Q&A: SESSION TWO

“Pointe de la Cuisse”

So, this is the second of probably three posts answering random (REALLY RANDOM) questions I’ve been asked. By you. Thank you!

Questions and Answers:

Question 1: Choose one place in the world to travel to for inspiration.

Oh, I so love that question. It’s really easy to answer: Venice, Italy. When I was there, it was (surprise!) packed with tourists, but honestly, all we had to do was to walk a couple blocks away from the main streets (filled with tourists) and we were all by ourselves. It was amazing. It’s a winding maze of awesome 3’ wide “streets” with laundry draped like prayer flags over each tiny street. And at the end of each “street” was a little courtyard flooded with light, so no matter where we explored, we were lured through dark narrow “streets” by the light just beyond. Because of this, Venice is a city that inspires curiosity and exploration. And…they have awesome food and wine. :)

Question 2: If you could write a book about your life, what would the title be?

“Where Are My Keys?, by Stephen St.Claire. How’s that?

The big issue is that I have to work hard and very deliberately to think about something deep enough to etch it into my mind. Like “okay, I’m putting my keys on the dining room table” (and actually say it out loud). If I don’t do something like that, I’ll just shed the keys and not give any thought at all as to where I shed them. And it’s not just keys, it’s everything. And it’s not just recently, it’s since I can remember. I think my problem is a “focusing” problem.

I remember my parents saying things like “THINK! Steve. Think!” That assumed that I wasn’t thinking, but I’m ALWAYS thinking. My mind is always turned “on”. I’m dreaming, pondering and creating in my head. I don’t know how to stop. There are places I go and practices I employ to help my brain slow down and that’s really helpful. But it doesn’t “stop” it.

This trait (I think it’s pretty common in creative people) is irritating but it’s also helpful to me. My artwork comes from this churning brain of mine. I’ve learned to love this trait actually (though my wife is not quite there yet). Because I’m an artist, the fact that I’m always thinking, dreaming, debating in my head, planning and creating makes my paintings the natural and logical outlet for what’s going on in my mind. That’s why I love artwork. I’m sure I’d go mad if I didn’t have that way to get it all out of my head (at least momentarily).

Q&A: SESSION ONE

If you've read my blog at all, you know that many of the posts address some (sometimes weird) question I'm asked at my studio. Since these days, my studio is closed to the public, I put the word out that I need your input. 

I'm opening the door to any and all questions. This may be good fodder for many blog posts! So think about it...if there's anything you want to know about me, my art, my art background, living in Asheville, ANYTHING.

Questions and Answers:

Question 1: Do you have a favorite painting that you could never part with?

Ooooo. Good question, but easy to answer. No, sort of. The whole reason I paint is to sell what I create and thereby support myself that way. I.e. I don’t have a “real” job. This IS my real job, so I need to pay close attention to which paintings and themes are getting the most interest in my studio and let that interest guide me as I dream up new ideas and themes.

That said, there are two paintings I’ve done that I will be heartbroken when they sell. One is my largest piece so far (a 6’ x 8’ waterfall that took 13 months to complete) and the other is a bridge at Giverny (Claude Monet’s home and garden). I’d kind of rather neither of them sold, but…Joy will hit me if I don’t have a price tag on them so…they’re for sale as “premium” pieces (meaning I’ll never discount them).

“Cullasaja Falls” (72” x 96”)

“Le rêve d'été de Giverny” (36” x 48”)

Question 2: Do you make your own canvases? Like the one in the picture, you would not normally find that on the shelf at Hobby Lobby.

I have a friend of mine make the panels for me. Because the weight of the materials I use to create my artwork (modeling compound and resin) will bow the canvas in the center, the canvas has to be backed with a then sheet of plywood. So, every panel is custom created, which means the size and proportions are not limited by what is “in stock” at the art store. I can get whatever size I order. That’s awesome.

Question 3: Have either you or Joy ever tossed away a half - finished work, completely disgusted and convinced that it is not going to turn out right, and then wished that you'd kept at it and finished it?

Not exactly. There are some pieces both Joy and I have gotten to about half-completed and realized it was not going to be improved with any amount of artistic cajoling, so we then rip the canvas off the panel, re-stretch the canvas and begin all over again. I’ve never, ever been sorry I’ve done that, because the second time I approach that theme (the re-do) is always so much better. I’ve even completely finished a piece, hung it on the wall for a few days and realize I hate looking at it. It doesn’t happen often, but I rip the painting off the backer panel and start over in that case as well. I want absolutely everything hanging on my studio walls to represent the very best I can create. If I know that’s not the case, I’ll start all over again.

That’s all for this entry…more questions and answers to come. If you have a question for me — personal, creative, technique, anything…just ask. I’ll answer every question I get. :)

"Can I Watch You?"

Me and my assistant, Asher St.Claire

People visiting my River Arts District studio in Asheville, North Carolina were surprised when I told them where I was spending my winter. My studio hours are reduced this time of year and my awesome and capable assistant Brenna welcomes visitors for me every Friday, Saturday and Monday until mid-March when I arrive back in Asheville until next winter. “Dallas, Texas?” they’d exclaim. “Why?” Well, it’s not because of the natural beauty of the state. I feel sorry for it. It does have a raw and very simple beauty but honestly, let’s not argue about it. The second best thing about Texas is the BBQ and that’s it. The first best thing is that three out of our four kids live here, right next door to each other and we live life with family all around us (including eight of our ten grand children). Every day, painting gets pushed aside by running outside and hugging these kids as they scooter by the house.

It is such a life source for Joy and I. Rather than distracting us from creativity, that closeness greatly enhances creativity for me, because my “tank” is so full here. Ideas are ignited and new concepts are experimented with. It’s just than rather than being asked how I get my shiny finish or asked to explain what aluminum leaf is, I get asked if I want to watch them try out their new beyblade. I love it.

My first set of 2020 commissions are about done now and my next set is ready to start next week. And looking ahead to the challenges of the rest of the year, I’m really excited about the results of experiments I’m tried over the last few weeks. These experiments have included playing with layering of paint (trying to keep as much light penetrating as possible) and more texture, applying a higher relief than I’ve worked with before. The result gives even more depth to each piece.

So despite the sweet distractions all day long, I am getting more accomplished here than when I’m back in Asheville, and that’s an awesome validation that this “winter art studio” idea was a good one!

An Impractical Idea

Soon to be “The Bridge” (36” x 48”)

As I was sitting in my studio as the new year was just beginning, I was mulling over the past year and thinking in terms of “what do I want to do different in 2020?” Most of the time, I’m blissfully content just doing what I’m used to doing, but that can be dangerous as an artist. Look at some of the big name artists in recent history and you’ll see what I mean. Someone starts painting a charming little cabin in the woods with a beautiful sunset behind it and warm lights shining in the windows. Nice. But then that person (not mentioning names here) becomes super famous for his cabins and soon, that’s all he paints. Sounds financially lucrative (just painting the same thing over and over again is easy) but it sounds really boring. Boring is not why I’m an artist. It’s not my ultimate goal in life.

“…I have to pay close attention to people’s comments and purchases…”

As a full-time artist in (I think) the most awesome community of artists anywhere in the world (there are over 220 artists in Asheville’s River Arts District), I am very aware of what people are drawn to as far as my paintings go. I come up with what I think is a great idea and if it sells, it WAS a great idea. Sometimes they don’t sell, so I strip off the canvas and start all over again. That doesn’t happen often but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t happen sometimes. But because when I finish a painting and hang it on the wall, I’m right there working as people come in and visit my studio (and view my artwork). I can hear their reaction to my artwork and that’s super helpful in figuring out what people are drawn to. Because I’m financially dependent on SELLING my artwork, I have to pay close attention to people’s comments and purchases, and for the most part, that dictates what I paint in the future. Some might call me a sell-out but that’s not the case. I love painting and I don’t really care what it is I’m painting. If I’m painting, I’m having fun. But for the most part, I try to be attentive to what people will actually purchase, and my prices are guided by the quantity of work I sell (supply and demand).

But every now and then, I make an exception to this rule. On New Years day as I was sitting in my studio mulling over life, a voice in my head seemed to whisper “make more exceptions to your rule this year”. Well, who am I to silence that little voice? So the afternoon of January 1, I prepped my canvas and pulled out one of my favorite photos I took in France. The photo is of what is probably the most famous Japanese bridge in the world: Monet’s bridge in his lily pond in Giverny (just northwest of Paris). I have spent more time applying the texture than I ever take. But for these “exception” paintings, time will not matter. This piece (pictured here) is now ready for the Italian aluminum leaf to be applied, followed by countless layers of oil paint.

This is not a “practical” idea, and I love that. This year, my goal is to complete at least three “impractical” pieces. How’s that for a New Year’s resolution? Watch out 2020!

How do you know when a painting is "done"?

With all the people strolling through my art studio in Asheville, I am asked a whole lot of questions. Usually, they’re pretty much the same questions like:

• What’s the shiny stuff on your paintings? Answer: it’s solar resistant resin.

• Do you HAVE to paint on aluminum leaf? Answer: Define “HAVE” to.

• How long have you been painting? Answer: Since I was four.

• Are you St.Claire? Answer: Yes. You wanna kiss my ring?

• Are these all local scenes? Answer: Not all, but mostly.

• What are all the circles? Answer: What do YOU think they are?

• Is there a restroom nearby? Answer: Yes, the blue door over there on the right

Last week, I was asked a question I don’t remember ever being asked before: “How do you know when a painting is done?” Hmmm. I’ve never really thought about that. My first thought was “well, how do you know when your dinner is done?” It’s just done when it’s done, right? But then I started analyzing that decision and realized the answer is pretty complex.

It’s just done when it’s done, right?

There are at least twenty steps each painting goes through to bring it from beginning to completion and I know from experience when a painting is getting close to that end point. I’m working with layer on layer of texture underneath a thin layer of aluminum leaf. And then I begin applying thin layer on thin layer of oil paint. I’ll first apply the paint on the piece per the different color families I’m using. I’ll apply the warm colors first, let them dry, then apply the cool colors (or the other way around), and work from the farthest background (usually the sky in a landscape) up to the foreground, letting each step dry before working on the closer section. Then I repeat, and repeat and repeat. Each time I apply another layer of paint, the colors are enriched. The very end of the process is just working with contrast so that the piece “pops”, so I’ll darken the darks and lighten the lights in certain areas so that the eye is led by the contrast of those two elements.

And then…I ask Joy if it’s done and she gets the last word. There’s a life lesson there I think.

What Was Art School Like?

Art Center College of Design, Pasadena, CA

The other day, a family of five came into my art studio in Asheville. They’d been browsing in and out of the different art studios in the River Arts District and had a lot to say about the artwork they’d seen and artists they’d met. Super nice people. This couple’s son said he was interested in pursuing art as a career and Jim (the dad) asked me if I’d been to art school for training and if so, what was it really like? Was it worth it? Oooooo. Good blog post idea!

So, I’ll try to condense what was a half hour conversation into a short blog.

I really think that if it’s the “right” art school, it can be really valuable to an artist. “Self-taught” is fine, don’t get me wrong. No one taught me the technique I’m known for in my artwork. I made it up. But…I made it up using the tools I got from my education. I went to Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, CA. It was extraordinarily challenging but was definitely an amazing experience. I absolutely loved college. One of the things I learned there was to be organized with my time (a valuable tool I’ve used ever since). The work load was so intense and the pressure on the students was incredible. The years I attended, Art Center was ranked #2 (right behind Harvard School of Law) in terms of stress level on the students.

“Crit time” reduced us college students to tears…”

This was also the place I learned to take artistic criticism. I had to either learn to take critique or emotionally crumble! See, upon completion of our assignment, we would post our work on the walls around the classroom. Then we’d each present our assignment, and each of the other students would take turns expressing what was right and what was wrong with what we’d done. There was none of this “now remember, with art, there are NO MISTAKES”. Don’t believe it. “Crit time” reduced us college students to tears. It was brutal and really, really helpful (if you opened up to listening).

The other really helpful thing we learned was about the correct way to compose a piece of art. Did you know there are good and bad color combinations and good and bad compositions for a painting? Oh yes. We learned color theory and we learned about the laws (google "the Golden Section” sometime) that govern makes a pleasing composition of a piece of art. When I got to this point, Jim (the dad in my now captive audience) asked “What about abstract art? Would those rules apply to types of art other than landscapes or still life?” Oh my gosh, YES. Color and good composition are all you have with an abstract painting. Knowing the rules is even MORE important in an abstract.

My time at art college was amazing. I so appreciate the instructors, the brutal critique (though I didn’t enjoy that at the time) and the awesome life-long friends I made there. Because of all that, I’m able to now paint full-time and live in an awesome place like Asheville (and talk to nice families coming into my art studio asking me about my experience at art school. :)

"What are you Working on These Days?"

My Happy Mess

I had a client come into my art studio last week and he asked what I was working on these days. After I recounted some of the projects I’ve got in process, I thought “Wow, I’m really busy!” Thankfully, this has been a very busy season so far and I have lots on my plate and lots more projects I have in mind. So where to start?

• I’ve got a three month show coming up in the summer at one of the premier hotel/restaurants in downtown Asheville. This will require 10 to 12 paintings, with more waiting “in the wings” to replace pieces as they sell (thinking positive here). Most of those paintings are completed now and ready for the show.

• I am finishing up a commission (just completed today actually) for a couple that got married in Maine. The wedding venue had an amazing view of the mountains, so that vista was what I painted for their anniversary present to each other. I love creating a painting that’s not only a nice piece of artwork (hopefully!) but actually means something to the client. This one very definitely means a lot to them. How cool is that?

• I’m also working on a rather large piece for a client that lives on a mountainside just south of Asheville. The view from their back deck is really spectacular so I’m creating a sunset inspired piece from the viewpoint of their back deck. This one is nearly completed now as well.

• I just finished up a set of eight new pieces and have started a brand new 8-piece set to get ready for our busy summer season. Most of these paintings are on the smaller size (like 16” x 20” and 18” x 24”) so it’s easier on the wallet (since my prices are determined by the size). Come by this summer and there will be a lot to see!

How boring would life be if the motivation for everything we did was simply because it was practical?”

• I saved the completely impractical (but really fun) projects for last in this list. This year, I wanted to depict a very large wave crashing on rocks and I just finished the line drawing of that composition on the canvas last week. The other project is a jagged peak of a mountain (up close view). I know…I’m in Asheville and how do I expect to sell a crashing wave (we’re five hours from the ocean and we only get huge waves here when there’s a hurricane) and we’re about a 30 hour drive from the nearest “jagged” mountains. So the reason I’m painting these two is because I want to. I don’t really care if these sell or not. I may end up with these on my own wall and if that’s the case, I’m very much okay with that. How boring would life be if the motivation for everything we did was simply because it was practical?” Seriously, I’d be excited if they don’t sell because I wouldn’t mind ending up with two of my very best pieces (and that’s what I intend to create). That said, if. you like waves and/or mountains, let’s talk. :)

Well, that about sums up the current work load of this Asheville artist. If you’re planning a trip to visit western North Carolina this year, please make sure you include our art studio (in Asheville’s historic River Arts District) in your itinerary. With over 220 artists with open art studios, you could spend a whole day browsing artwork and meeting artists. Cheers!

"Frankenstein-ing" a painting

One afternoon last autumn, Joy and I had a hankerin’ (Southern for “urge”) to pack a picnic and watch the sunset. So we stopped at the store and grabbed what is now “standard picnic fare”: a roasted chicken, whole wheat rolls, potato salad, a bottle of decent wine and Pim’s (for dessert). It was somewhat cloudy that day but the afternoon seemed clearer than the morning, so this was one of those evenings I wasn’t sure about the weather but it was still worth taking a chance. In short, it was wonderful (but cloudy). We drove up onto the Blue Ridge Parkway and headed south (toward Smoky Mountain National Park). About a half hour drive from Asheville, we found a good west-facing turn out and parked the car and feasted, enjoying the muted sunset and the peace and quiet of the place. I took several photos, always hoping for the sun to break through but alas, that evening the sun was a “no show”.

That’s the really great thing about being an artist: we get to “play God” every now and then…

That’s how it goes sometimes. I had what I thought was a great composition in my photos but just not the perfect lighting because of the clouds. So, in looking at my photos afterwards, I concluded it was the right composition for a painting but the wrong sky. What to do, what to do…

That’s the really great thing about being an artist: we get to “play God” every now and then. It occurred to me that I could use an older photo of a really beautiful sunset I had taken on my walk home from my art studio in Asheville’s River Arts District. The sunset was gorgeous, but the foreground was the French Broad River (nice enough) and the New Belgium brewery (also, nice enough but…uh…not “painting” worthy. So…I decided this was a chance to do a bit of artistic “Frankenstein-ing”: taking a bit of this and a bit of that and combining it into one piece, add 10,000 volts of electricity (just kidding) and VIOLA! IT’S ALIVE! (Just kidding.)

So the photo of the painting you see pictured here is from two very separate experiences I had with nature. One in May of 2017 and one in September 2018. There. Now you know my secrets. I unabashedly (and quite regularly) combine foregrounds, midgrounds and backgrounds of photos I take (or find) and create (with the addition of 10,000 volts of electricity — just kidding) a new and unique piece of art.

That’s how we roll here. That’s how we roll.

The Big Reveal

“Triskele” (approximately 28” x 32”)

For months now, I’ve been concocting a new type of artwork. I wanted to create a new type of painting that was dynamic rather than static; a painting that billowed out from the wall rather than lie flat against a wall. I’ve shared the earliest experiments here in an earlier post, the early development of those experiments and some problems I had along the way. Now finally, my first “Sails” piece is hanging in my studio and it’s even better than I’d originally planned.

I had thought I’d just create different shapes of “sails” mounted into a hardwood “rail” top and bottom (see photos below). That was where the first experiment ended and I liked them but had yet another idea that sprouted out of this one: What if the sail shapes overlapped each other and were mounted at different angles? Can I do that? How would you mount them? Ahhh…questions to answer and problems to solve!

Experiment #1: “Vele Bianche” Experiment #2: “Vele Azure”

As it turned out, mounting them at different angles to each other was somewhat of a simple problem to solve, and the result is something much more dynamic (in my opinion) and much more visually interesting (again, in my opinion). I can imaging this type of artwork running down a 40’ corridor or across the lobby of a hotel or bank. I can also see these in a contemporary home.

This is the thing I love about creativity. These are made using exactly the same steps as any of my landscape paintings (though you’d never know it). The only difference is that I’m painting on a flexible panel and I’m mounting it to the wall on slotted rails.

What if the sail shapes overlapped each other and were mounted at different angles? Can I do that?

So my first experiment for 2019 is complete. I have two other experiments to tackle this year (as soon as I finish a few more commissions — they come first). So the next time you’re wondering around the streets of Asheville’s awesome River Arts District, please come and visit my studio, take a look at these pieces and let me know what you think! Cheers!