My Art Philosophy

I suppose for anyone to figure out their niche in the art world, it's commonly said that he or she must start with a philosophy behind their art--their "why." Trouble is, communicating my philosophy is almost as difficult as finding my style. It just so happens I'm a very practical person and am usually bored by the flowery, emotion-laden statements many artists make about their work.

Lest I sound cynical, let me describe it this way: we've all heard it said that a picture is worth 1,000 words, right? Well, what if I post this picture?



Above is a random image I stole from this site after a quick Google search for "cute baby." Do you have 1,000 words come to mind when you look at it? I know I don't. I think, "Oh, another cute baby photo," and move on with my day. That's only 5 words.

You probably say something similar upon seeing this photo:



But, for me, I see much more in this one because this is my oldest daughter, Brynn. Don't worry . . . I'll spare you the Mommy bragging. It will suffice to say that she was born weighing a whopping 1 lb 4 oz and has spent a great deal of time fighting for her life.

It's all about experience.

In the painting world, many artists pour their hearts and souls into some emotional expression as they paint and then define their art by those emotions. They could talk forever about their work, their experience, etc, but does that come across perfectly as intended? In my (humble) opinion, probably not. A viewer only sees what connects with their experience. If they don't have an experience or an appreciation for what or how an artist paints, far less than 1,000 words come to mind. In fact, they barely glance in the general direction of the piece representing the blood, sweat, and tears of that artist. And, when the viewer actually does have 1,000 words come to mind, what are the chances they are the same 1,000 words as the artist? Practically nil.

Does that mean the viewer isn't "enlightened" about art? Despite what some NY Abstract Gallery owners may say, I think not. Not everyone is going to appreciate your art . . . but some people will and that's all that matters.

My point is, although I do have a philosophy behind my art, that's not why I create it. I have large doubts that anyone will spontaneously pick up on my philosophy without reading my blog or getting to know me personally; and at that point, I've communicated much more effectively through verbal language than visual.

But as far as concrete visual communication goes, I connect a lot with painters like David Leffel, who are very practical. He said in his book, Oil Painting Secrets from a Master, that the concept behind one of his paintings was "the movement of light from left to right." Another painting's purpose was about, "purple and yellow." Now THAT is something I think I could try to communicate visually. And yet, even still, one of his patrons said, "Oh, I thought your work was about 'quiet.'"

And that's okay.

Even without perfect communication of some overarching philosophy, I still paint. Why? Because I love to paint. I love to learn about light and how it reacts with stuff. I love to play in the oils and see what they can do. I'm fascinated by the effects you can create with different tools--a brush, a knife, my fingers, a paper towel, sandpaper, saran wrap, etc. I love getting lost in a concept--even if it's a concept that only I will ever fully understand--and how the rest of the world melts away as I totally lose track of time. I even love my failures--okay, maybe at the time I really want to throw the painting across the room--but eventually I love that the failure happened because I improve for the next one.

So what's my philosophy? Well, I suppose it's the same for my art as it is for everything else. It would be this: seek lasting peace in all aspects of your life, pursue excellence in the things that matter most, embrace pain when it's necessary, and then share what you've learned with others.

But if you connect with my art or my blog in some other way, I will clap my hands and say "That's wonderful!"

Review #2

After wasting a few college years being convinced that Fine Art was not a "real" profession, I decided to get back to the roots of what I love. Seeing the work of Marvin Mattelson made me realize there is, indeed, a market for art and clients who want realism. So, I did what any rational artist would do: I rebelled against all the teachers I'd had that taught realism was baaaaaaad while abstract was gooooood--and went to super tight portrait work. At my peak, I was turning out stuff like this painting of Dr. Lew and Cheryl Roht:



Since then, I've fallen more in love with painters who magically blend realism with looser, more expressive brushwork. My biggest hero was William Whitaker, who was kind enough to let me study under him any time I was in his area. I spent weeks under his tutoring (and still do on occasion) and learned invaluable lessons I never would have learned any other way.

As I continued to develop, I studied more and more historical as well as modern realists and am starting to really filter out what I simply admire from what I want to become. I'm still not there yet, so I feel my work lacks some cohesion, but my style is definitely starting to emerge. After playing with the knife and some high-contrast lighting, this recent painting is one of my favorite Plein Air landscapes so far:



My good friend Mara Schasteen convinced me to start this blog to chart my growth from here and I invite you to join me. Hopefully, this journey will be helpful to those of you who are also finding your unique artistic voice in a sea of "anything goes."

Review #1

Since this blog is about my journey as an artist--and I'm already 20+ years into that journey--I better give a short background.

I began as most artists do: drawing incessantly. By the time I was 11, I was selling portraits of dogs at AKC shows to kind people who had pity on my makeshift "lemonade stand" way of selling things. Here I am then:



I was turning out pictures like this after I ventured into color (in this case, Prisma colored pencils):



And by high school, I decided to try my hand at painting. This is one of my first acrylic paintings--an assignment to put together a still life:



I loved to draw and grew up with an image of myself as a stay-at-home mom, running an art business from home in my spare time. Though the details are still being worked out, the only thing about that image that has changed is the realization that there is no such thing as "spare time!"

Opening Day

Sometimes I laugh when I think about all the "mysticism" surrounding the profession of an artist. Why images of berets--or, worse, purple hair and spikes through the lip--are conjured up in my own mind, I will never know. Except it does serve to remind me that the power of stereotypes can still benefit me--especially when I've forgotten yet another important date or delivery and someone says, "It's okay, aren't all artists a little loopy?"

But stereotypes aside, I'm just an average girl on an average journey, trying to figure out what kind of art career I want to have "when I grow up." I thought I should wait until I had it all figured out before I exposed myself in cyberspace; but at the encouragement of my Artistic Accomplice, Mara Schasteen, this blog is actually about that journey of figuring it all out. I hope you enjoy it; or better yet, I hope it helps you on your journey.