By: Jennifer Prevost
10 minute read 
2050 words

Explaining My Painting Style

How I Capture Ottawa Through Oil Paint

People often tell me they feel something when they stand in front of one of my paintings, even before they know what the subject is or where it was painted. That emotional response is always my starting point. In my opinion, art does not need to be understood before it is felt. Still, many collectors are curious about how a painting comes to life, why it looks the way it does, and what choices an artist makes along the way.

This blog is an invitation behind the scenes. It is a way of sharing how I work, why I choose to paint with oils, and how my approach helps me capture the atmosphere, rhythm, and quiet beauty of Ottawa.

Why I Choose Oil Paint

Oil paint has always felt like home to me. I am drawn to its richness, its physicality, and the way it holds colour. Oils allow me to work boldly and decisively, placing colour directly onto the canvas with confidence. The paint itself has weight and presence, which matters to me because I want my paintings to feel grounded and substantial.

There is also a timeless quality to oil paint. It has been used for centuries, and when properly cared for, it lasts longer than a lifetime. For collectors, this matters. An oil painting is not fleeting. It is something made to endure, to be passed down, to quietly accumulate meaning over time.

I do not layer my oil paint in the traditional sense. Instead, I paint wet into wet, placing strokes of colour side by side in a single session. This approach keeps the painting fresh and alive. Each mark is intentional. There is no hiding behind layers or correcting later. What you see is the result of focused observation and spontaneous instinct in the moment.

My Foundations in Oil Painting

I learned to work with traditional oil paints while studying at Queen’s University, where I was fortunate to learn under the guidance of Jan Winton and Dan Oxley. Their mentorship emphasized observation, discipline, and a respect for materials, lessons that continue to shape my practice today. I worked in a shared studio space alongside a diverse group of artists, each of us at different stages of our artistic development. That environment was formative. We learned not only from our instructors, but from one another, through conversation, critique, and the act of working side by side. There was a sense of collective momentum, discovering these techniques together.

It was in that studio that I first fell in love with oil paint. I was drawn immediately to the intensity of the colours, their depth and richness, and the way the paint responded to the brush. Oil allowed for a physical connection to the surface that felt intuitive and expressive. I began painting with Stevenson’s oil paints, learning how to control the medium while also allowing it to retain its vitality. The colours felt alive, capable of conveying both subtlety and boldness within the same painting.

As my practice evolved, so did my relationship with materials. While the fundamentals of working in oil have remained central to my approach, I have gradually transitioned to painting with water-based oil paints, primarily using the brands Windsor & Newton and Cobra. These paints allow me to maintain the same vibrancy, texture, and painterly confidence I value in traditional oils, while offering greater flexibility in my studio practice. Working with water based oil paints gives me flexibility to paint in the plein-air style (with easy clean-up) or even in the tiny condo which I call home. The shift has been a natural progression rather than a departure, rooted in the same principles I learned early on: respect for the medium, clarity of intention, and a commitment to letting colour and brushwork carry the emotional weight of the painting.

Painting With an Open Impressionist Approach

My style is rooted in open impressionism. Rather than blending colours smoothly or rendering every detail, I lay distinct strokes of paint next to one another, allowing the viewer’s eye to do the work of mixing. Up close, the surface reads as a mosaic of colour. Step back, and the scene comes together.

This way of painting mirrors how we actually experience the world. We do not see everything at once in sharp focus. Our eyes move, light shifts, and impressions accumulate. I am interested in capturing that experience rather than a photographic record.

Before I begin painting, a great deal of planning happens quietly behind the scenes. I start with sketches, working through the composition on paper before ever touching the canvas. Often, I colour these drawings with pencil crayons or sometimes watercolours, using them to explore the palette and test how colours will sit beside one another. This step allows me to think through the emotional direction of the painting, the balance of colour, and the overall rhythm of the composition. By the time I move to paint, the decisions are already rooted in intention rather than guesswork.

Once the plan is established, I create a bright underpainting, either in acrylic paint or with a very thin, lightly applied layer of oil paint. This stage is done tone on tone and focuses entirely on structure. I am checking proportions, placement, and value relationships, making sure the scene is laid out correctly before moving forward. This step is especially important when I am painting a familiar or specific place in Ottawa. The underpainting acts as a map. When it is complete, I know exactly where I am going, and that is when the real joy of painting begins.

Before laying any oil paint onto the canvas, I mix all of my colours in advance. I prepare my palette carefully, laying the paint out on a large surface and adjusting each mixture until the colour and value feel right. Having everything mixed ahead of time allows me to paint with confidence and momentum. I can move freely, staying present with the painting rather than stopping to problem-solve. This preparation supports the spontaneity of the final surface, allowing the painting to unfold with clarity, energy, and intention.

With the structure in place, I begin building the surface through a collage of oil paint marks. I work with a wide variety of brush sizes, which is essential to my process. I am not interested in repetitive marks or predictable patterns. I want each brushstroke to feel distinct, energetic, and spontaneous. Some marks are thin and dragged across the surface, allowing the underpainting to show through. Others are heavier, more confident, and full of presence. The amount of paint varies constantly. Together, these marks create a visual language that speaks on an intuitive level, engaging the unconscious mind rather than the analytical one. This is where I enter a flow state. Time falls away. Hours pass unnoticed as I move through a kind of meditation, responding only to colour, rhythm, and instinct. This is where I feel most alive and most at home in my work.

Working this way requires trust. Once a brushstroke is placed, it stays. I have learned to accept my spontaneous marks as they are, without trying to perfect them or fuss too much. In my opinion, this makes the painting feel more energetic, loose, and alive. Each colour choice must respond to the ones around it. The painting builds through relationships between shapes, tones, and temperatures rather than through outlines or fine detail. The result is energetic and expressive, while still grounded in a real place.

Texture, Surface, and Movement

Texture plays a quiet but important role in my work. The paint sits on the surface of the canvas with confidence. Brushstrokes are visible. You can follow the movement of my hand as it responds to the landscape in front of me or to the memory of it back in the studio.

This texture brings the painting to life, especially when it is hanging in a home. Light interacts with the surface throughout the day. Morning light reveals different passages than evening light. As you move past the painting, the surface shifts subtly. It becomes something you experience rather than simply observe.

I like this sense of movement. Ottawa is a city of transitions. Seasons change dramatically. Light moves quickly across the landscape. My brushwork reflects that sense of motion and impermanence.

Using Colour to Capture Emotion and Place

Colour is where emotion lives in my work. I am less interested in matching exact hues than in conveying atmosphere. A sky might lean warmer than expected. Snow may carry blues, purples, or soft greens. These choices are intuitive, guided by how the scene feels rather than how it appears in a single frozen moment.

Ottawa offers an incredible range of colour throughout the year. Spring arrives tentatively, with pale greens and soft light. Summer is lush and saturated. Fall brings warmth and contrast, while winter strips everything back to essentials, revealing subtle shifts in tone that often go unnoticed.

By placing colours side by side, I allow them to vibrate against one another. This creates energy within the painting and helps convey mood. A quiet evening scene might rely on gentle transitions and muted tones. A bright summer day calls for bolder contrasts and more saturated colour.

For collectors, this approach means the painting continues to reveal itself over time. You may notice new colour relationships months or years after bringing it home.

Painting Ottawa as a Lived Experience

Ottawa is not just a subject for me. It is a place I live, walk, and observe daily. I am drawn to both its iconic landmarks and its quieter corners. The canal at dusk. A stretch of path in late winter. A neighbourhood street softened by falling snow.

Because I paint from lived experience, the city becomes personal. I am not trying to document it. I am responding to it. The rhythm of the seasons, the way light behaves at different times of day, and the feeling of familiarity all inform my work.

Each season demands a different approach. Winter asks for restraint and sensitivity. Summer allows for exuberance. Fall invites warmth and reflection. These shifts influence my palette, my brushwork, and the overall mood of each piece.

Collectors who live in Ottawa often recognize something of their own experience in these paintings. Even when the location is not immediately identifiable, the feeling is familiar.

What Makes My Approach Unique

My paintings sit in a space between abstraction and representation. They are grounded in real places, yet they leave room for interpretation. I want viewers to bring their own memories and emotions to the work.

I am especially interested in overlooked moments. Scenes that might be passed by without a second thought. A quiet path. A bank of trees. A fleeting change in light. By painting these moments, I hope to elevate them, to encourage a slower way of seeing.

Ultimately, my goal is to help people fall in love with where they live. To see Ottawa not just as a capital city, but as a place of subtle beauty and endless inspiration.

Living With an Oil Painting

When you live with an oil painting, it becomes part of your daily life. It greets you in the morning. It changes with the seasons and with the light in your home. Over time, it gathers meaning.

My paintings are made to be lived with. They are not precious objects meant to be kept at a distance. They are meant to bring warmth, atmosphere, and a sense of place into your space. If you are drawn to a particular painting, trust that response. Art does not need to be overthought. Often, the pieces we return to again and again are the ones that resonate most deeply.

A Continuing Conversation

Painting Ottawa is an ongoing conversation between place, paint, and perception. Each new work builds on the last, shaped by experience, memory, and observation.

If you would like to explore available paintings, learn more about upcoming work, or discuss a commission inspired by a place that matters to you, I invite you to reach out. I am always happy to share more about my process and the stories behind the work.

Thank you for taking the time to look more closely.