Painting without permission
a look into turner vinson's newest series
At a time when much of landscape painting leans safe and familiar, Turner Vinson has been looking back. not to tradition, but to the moment it broke open, to The artists who first challenged the rules.
Turner Vinson’s latest body of work didn’t come out of nowhere. It came from books listened to over long drives and studio sessions. For years, it was all business and marketing titles, the kind of practical reading you pick up when you’re trying to build a career with a paintbrush. But then came a shift.
Van Gogh: The Life. Mad Enchantment. In Montmartre.
The stories of Monet, Matisse, and Van Gogh inspired and reminded Turner of something: These artists weren’t following rules. They were following a feeling. Turner's newest series is rooted in that reminder. It holds onto place, but lets go of precision. Shapes break loose from realism and drift somewhere more immediate, more emotional. Thick with impasto, layered and sculptural.
“This particular day was bitterly cold,” Turner said about Into the February Sun. “The painting came together as I tried to capture the stark and graphic nature of the winter landscape.”
Michelle, gallery owner and longtime friend of Turner’s, sees a clear evolution in this work. “I’ve watched Turner grow as an artist for years now, and what’s remarkable is that no matter how much his style evolves, it never loses its core. His brushwork has always had conviction, but these new paintings feel even more intentional. They’re looser, yes, but also bolder, more sure of themselves.” That confidence is perhaps most visible in the way he handles light and reflection.
Winter Pond is a prime example. “The reflection of the pond seemed to contain the whole landscape on its surface,” Turner explains. “I tried to determine which was most important, the reflection on the pond or the land. I couldn't decide, so I treated them with almost equal importance in the painting.”
One of the most compelling pieces in this new series is When the Sun Was Frozen, a painting built around a brief, blinding encounter with winter light. The composition is direct, but the energy is layered: thick brushwork, raw color, and a vertical sweep of pale yellow that seems to hold the moment in place. “The low winter sun stretched across the landscape and struck the frozen stream, blinding me as I glanced from my painting to the scene and back,” Turner explains. “This painting is my attempt to hold onto that fleeting brilliance before it slipped back into shadow.”
The connection to Turner’s modernist influences is clear, not in imitation but in approach. Like Monet at the end of his life or Van Gogh in his fields, this piece treats light as more than an effect. It becomes the subject, the structure, the reason the painting exists. The result isn’t polished. It isn’t decorative. It’s immediate. Michelle, who’s worked with Turner for years, sees that shift clearly: “He’s not just painting what he sees. He’s painting what happens in the space between observation and memory. There’s a confidence in this piece that stands out.”
Michelle adds, "Turner’s work doesn’t try to impress with polish. It reaches for something more honest. There’s texture, mess, intuition, and that’s what makes it so compelling. You don’t just see the place. You feel how he was standing in it.”
In a painting like Tapestry of Color, that feeling is more electric than reflective. It’s motion, saturation, and sensory overload, translated through brush and pigment. “I aimed to capture not just the appearance of the garden but its overwhelming presence; the heat, the motion, the saturation of color,” Turner explains. “The result is a tapestry of color and gesture that reflects my ongoing exploration of place, energy, and the expressive potential of paint itself.”
Other works, like Beneath the Blue Mountain, lean into a calmer kind of gravity. The scale and atmosphere do most of the work: a looming mountain, autumn color, cold light. It’s less about visual drama and more about simplicity and peace. “It felt as if the mountain was towering over all of us,” Turner says, “and all we could do was sit beneath it and enjoy the colors of autumn on a cold and cloudy afternoon.” These are very different moments, but the approach is the same. Turner doesn’t decorate. He interprets. Whether the energy is loud or hushed, the goal is to let the place speak, and to meet it with honesty, not perfection.
These are paintings that remember modernism when it was still new. Still risky. Still wild. And they carry that energy forward with a voice entirely Turner’s own. Below you will find the rest of Turner's newest series. These works build on that modernistic momentum, with a clear sense of direction and intent. Take your time with it; there’s more going on than just paint.