Painting the Bow Valley: Why I Keep Returning to the Three Sisters

There are mountains you paint once, and there are mountains that keep calling you back. For me, the Three Sisters above Canmore are the second kind. I have painted these three peaks more times than I can count, and every time the Bow Valley shows me something I had missed before: a different light, a shift in the season, a colour in the rock I had never noticed.

I live and work in the heart of the Canadian Rockies, and that closeness shapes everything I make. Most mornings the light comes up cold and blue over the valley, then warms as it climbs, and by the time it reaches the summits the stone has turned almost gold. That short window is what I chase in the studio. I am not trying to make a photograph of the mountains; I am trying to hold onto the feeling of standing at the foot of them, small and awake, with the whole valley opening out in front of you.

People sometimes ask why my Rockies paintings lean toward bold shape and colour rather than fine detail. The honest answer is that the mountains themselves are graphic. Seen from the valley floor, the Three Sisters read as strong, simple forms, ridgelines stacked against the sky. When I paint them I work in layers, blocking in those large shapes first and letting the colour carry the emotion. A palette knife and confident strokes get me closer to the truth of the place than careful blending ever could.

The Bow Valley is more than a backdrop for me. It is home to Canmore and Banff, to glacial lakes like Moraine, to wildlife moving through the trees, and to a light that changes by the hour. Each of those subjects has found its way onto a canvas, and each one teaches me to slow down and look harder.

If you have stood in this valley yourself, my hope is that these paintings carry a little of that feeling home with you. And if you have not been yet, come in the early morning, look up at the Three Sisters, and you will understand exactly why I keep painting them.

I will be sharing more of these stories here in the Journal, one painting at a time. Thank you for following along. — Martin