From Point A to Point Z

I remember years ago, as I was teaching a group of aspiring artists, the main problem I had with students was not their level of artistic skill or creativity. The main problem can be illustrated by the exasperated comment I heard over and over again: “My painting doesn’t look as good as yours!”. This statement usually was followed by them just giving up entirely. I felt like half the time, I was teaching art technique and the rest of the time, I was playing psychotherapist, and I’m not a very good psychotherapist.

"My painting doesn’t look as good as yours!”.

Really?

NEWS FLASH…if your painting looked as good as mine, you would not be taking an art class from me now, would you? (See, I really stink as a psychotherapist.) You might think their problem is self confidence, but it’s not. Their problem, over and over again, is a complete misunderstanding of how long it takes to perfect a skill. How long does it take to be able to sit down at the piano and play your favorite Katy Perry song? How long would it take you to reach the point where you would be able to run a marathon? How longs does it take to learn enough math skills to be an accountant? How many years of medical training does it take to be a brain surgeon?

Honestly, the common conception that “well, ANYONE could be an artist” is not only ignorant, it’s insulting. Don’t get me wrong. Everyone can pick up a paint brush (and would be psychologically healthier if they did) and create something, but to create something really well takes time and practice and lots of patience and stubborn persistence. It takes time to get from point A to point Z.

Honestly, the common conception that “well, ANYONE could be an artist” is not only ignorant, it’s insulting.

The common push-back I get to the above paragraph is that a lot of people look at a lot of the artwork out there and conclude “Heck, my four year old could do that!” so they assume art takes no skill at all, just good marketing. Looking around at a lot of artwork, I totally understand why people would feel that way. But, can I respectfully respond to this notion with a question? If I called myself a neurosurgeon, would that make me a neurosurgeon? If I called myself a concert pianist, would that make me a pianist? If I called myself an auto mechanic, would that mean you’d turn me loose on your Lexus?

Skill. Look for the skill. Art is visual, so the skill is there to be seen, or it’s not art. It may be color, it may be expressive, it may even be interesting to look at, but if there is no skill, there is no art.

Skill takes time and patience and persistence to develop and the willingness of aspiring artists to expend that kind of energy is what will make them a master of their craft. And honestly, when someone (no matter their present artistic skill level) who has the fire inside their heart that drives them to keep creating and developing their craft, it’s nearly impossible for them to fail.

Regarding the Selection of an Artistic Theme

I was recently asked by a visitor to my Asheville Art Studio how I decided what to paint. He explained that he was an aspiring artist and had trouble deciding on the “theme” or “subject mater” for their work, and I thought that discussion was worth recounting here in this format because I think they were asking a good question. Deciding on the subject matter for a piece can literally take months.

“…Why landscapes? Because that’s what moves me…”

In selecting a theme for subject matter or artwork, I asked him why he was painting in the first place. In other words, “are you painting for the joy of painting or are you painting to ‘say’ something with your artwork? I.e. are you painting still life pieces because you love flowers, or are you painting something that addresses the problem of race relations or climate change? I explained that one motivation and goal is not better than the other; that it’s completely valid to paint from either or both.

Most of the pieces I paint are landscapes. Why landscapes? Because that’s what moves me. I love nature, and I love depicting the majesty or stillness or joy that nature inspires in me. So, most of my work doesn’t say anything profound in that it makes no political or moral statement. I say “most” of my artwork because there has been the occasional piece I’ve done that tackles some relevant issue head on. But for the most part, it’s safe to say I’m just trying to depict beauty, not “say something” with my artwork. But that’s just me. I have been deeply moved by other artists work (like Goya) that have something truly profound to say regarding an issue of the day. I remember his painting “Saturn Devouring his Son”. It’s an awesome and well executed piece. And it shocks and sickens me. I assure you, that’s precisely what Goya intended. In the painting, you have the god Saturn devouring the body of his son. Why depict that? Because everyone knows a father should love and protect his son, just like the government (of Spain in Goya’s case) should love and protect the citizens. But just as Saturn is despoiling his own son, the Spanish government was despoiling it’s own citizenry. That painting and so many others like that are very dark and very serious. They have a lot to say. I sometimes wish I was more like Goya, but…I am not (for the most part). But I’m happy with that.

"What's Your Best Price on This Piece?"

Most of the time, when people visit Asheville and come into my studio to browse the artwork, they either like it or they don’t. If they don’t like it, they leave. If they like it and if the price fits their budget, they make a purchase. Of that group of interested people though, are people who like to play the “what’s your best price?” game. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE that game. I love talking someone down in price. It’s part of the fun of going to a garage sale. But…other than buying a house or a car, people don’t EVER try to bargain their way to a lower price with what they buy. I mean, imagine you’re at Walmart or Kohl’s or Home Depot and EverGreen Garden Center and you go up to the cashier, they inform you your total is $60.54. Is your response, “Okay, would you take $40?”

“The way I was taught to price my artwork makes the most sense…”

But there are people who buy artwork that way. I even had a gentleman visiting my Asheville art studio a couple years ago and he was looking at a painting and hollered across the room “well, you don’t seem to want to sell THIS one very much!” That was his way of asking if I’d come down in the price.

The way I was taught to price my artwork makes the most sense, and I wish everyone understood that I never price anything on a whim….”Oh, this one is awesome…I’ll price that high. This one…this is just okay, so I’ll price that lower.” If something is just “okay” I don’t put it on my wall. I remove the canvas from the frame and start all over. What ends up on my wall represents the best I can produce. I think everyone visiting my studio in the River Arts District deserves that. The only thing that determines my price is the rate of my sales. This year, I’m charging $3/square inch for my work. When I started selling my art, I was at $2.50/square inch. That was fine for a while, but when my artwork was selling faster than I could replace it on the wall, I bumped the price to $2.65. Then a year later, I had to bump it again, and then again. My goal is to paint as fast as I sell them.

All that said, if someone purchases something really large, or wants multiple pieces, of course I’ll give them a break on the pricing. THAT is the only point things get subjective as far as pricing goes. But I want to say “thank you” for someone willing to invest that much in me and my craft, and the most logical way to do that is by giving that type of a client a price break.

Aside from that though, I never, ever set prices based on what I “think” it’s worth. Based on my sales, I know what it will sell for and that’s the price I write on the tag. This is really important for my clients as well. They need to know that the value of the art they purchase is based on something more than what I “felt” like pricing it at. And so far, almost every year since I’ve started painting, the value (as set by purchases) is raising.

So setting prices is really a very simple and straightforward thing. If paintings sell too slow, you lower prices. If artwork sells too fast, you raise the price just a bit to slow sales down to a comfortable level. That’s how I was trained anyway, and it makes the most sense to me. If you have any questions or comments though, I’m really open to hearing.

A Really Unique Commission Project

“Triple Falls Triptych” (30” x 60” — each panel)

I love artwork commissions. I’ve found that as an artist, a commissioned painting oftentimes gives me the opportunity to paint something really unique. I’ve painting the canals of Venice, the Alps, Queenstown Harbour in New Zealand, Jasper National Park in Alberta, British Columbia, and even an Antarctic scene!

Several weeks ago now, a nice local couple came to visit me in my Asheville arts studio and liked what they saw. After several minutes of discussion about commissioning possibilities, they went home to look through their photos. In the mean time, I looked through some of mine.

So, I played God just a bit…

The idea they came up with was partially determined by the eventual location where the artwork would be installed: a stairwell. So here was the assignment: “We’d like a triptych, and we’d like the panels to be offset from each other, each one mounted a bit lower than the previous as they move down the steps. Basically, we’d like a local scene that can, in a sense, move down the wall with the stairs.”

Applying the finishing touches to the panels

SO… if they wanted a scene that “moved down” a stairwell, then one idea immediately came to mind: Triple Falls. Triple Falls is one of the most accessible, iconic and truly majestic waterfalls in western North Carolina, only an hour away from Asheville. But, as I looked at all the photos of the falls, I saw I problem. The waterfall moved from right to left as it cascaded down the mountain. But their stairwell goes down from left to right. So, I played God just a bit and flipped the photo. Viola! Perfection!

Fun with Art Scammers

Here’s an interesting email just received:

Greetings! My name is Brad Robinson from Austin, Texas I actually observed my wife has been viewing your website on my laptop and i guess she likes your piece of work, I'm also impressed and amazed to have seen your various works too.You are doing a great job. I would like to receive further information about your piece of work and what inspires you. I am very much interested in the purchase of your pieces to surprise my wife. Kindly confirm the availability of beautiful pieces for immediate sales.

Thanks and best regards, Brad

This is a classic email from an art scammer. Iterations of this same email are sent to unsuspecting (and sometimes trusting) artists all over the country. I literally get a version of this exact email (these scammers are not very creative) every week. I usually either delete the email or write something snide back to them indicating that they should be ashamed of themselves for treating people this way, or asking them how the weather was in Russia.

This week…I was in the mood to play…

This week though, I was in the mood to play (and waste their time). This is how it all went down (the scammer’s email is in bold, and my responses are in regular type):

My name is Larry from Phoenix was looking for some artwork online and i found your contact while searching. I will like to purchase some of your work for my wife as a surprise gift for our 20th anniversary. Please send pics and prices of some of your art which are ready for immediate sale within price range $200- $1000 I hope to hear a lot more about any available piece in your inventory ready for immediate sale.

Thanks and best regards, Larry

Me: Oh! How nice!

“Larry”: Believe you work as an artist,If yes forward to me your works. Where do you live?.

Me: Yes I do! Thank you so much!

“Larry”: Alright, i will be waiting for the pictures so we can proceed further. Thanks

Me: Can you send me pictures too? I love pictures.

“Larry”: I want to see the pictures you have so we can proceed further. Thanks

Me: What would you like to see?

“Larry”: Some pictures of your work within the price range so we can proceed further. Thanks

Me: What kind of paintings do you want? I have lots of them.

“Larry”: You can choose please from what you have available for immediate purchase.

Me: It’s hard for me to choose. I like all of them.

“Larry”: How about your paintings called “Autumn Day Afternoon” and “Morning Light in the Woods”? I will like to purchase both. What is your price?

Me: They’re sold.

“Larry”: Can you send me please some photos and prices of paintings you have available that are not sold?

Me: Actually, I can do better than that Larry. I have an art agent in Phoenix and he said he can meet with you to show you several very nice paintings in your price range. Please feel free to give him a call! His name is William Abernathy and can be reached at (623) 466-1999. I know you'll be delighted. Please let me know which painting you end up purchasing for your wife! :)

__________________________________

I never did hear back from “Larry”. The number I gave him was for the Phoenix office of the FBI. SURPRISE!

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.

Contentment vs Restlessness

It seems that one of the goals of every world religion, philosophy and self-help guru is the propagation of inner contentment. I love that all too seldom cherished inner quiet. The search for that illusive contentment is why I go hiking as much as I do, but it honestly seems that the world, though preaching the value of contentment, is dead set against us actually experiencing it. I mean really, turn on the TV or listen to the radio or go to the mall and we are constantly and ruthlessly bombarded with the message “you are not content! But…THIS will make you feel content!” The thing is, nearly EVERYTHING is sold with the promise of contentment, and because we’re so desperate for it, we buy “it” (whatever it is). Then we feel a moment of bliss (maybe) and then in moments, “it” gets old and no longer delivers any contentment at all.

In no way do I want to diminish the longing for contentment. I could not do that even if I tried. My faith informs me that every human being was created for absolute contentment, but that the whole system is broken now and humankind currently is cut off from the very source of contentment. And so we long for the very thing we run from. This is the ultimate conundrum.

Restlessness has fueled every quest and exploration and is responsible for all the innovation of our race.

However, I don’t think the concept of restlessness is the opposite of contentment. I think ingratitude, entitlement and greed are the opposite of that inner peace we value and search for, but I don’t really think restlessness qualifies as the opposite. Honestly, my opinion is that restlessness is to an artist what life blood is to a living creature: it feeds and stimulates the creation of something amazing and beautiful and life-giving. What I’m most afraid of is to become too “comfortable” and “complacent”, that I stop longing for something new, dreaming of something better and pursuing something of greater value and beauty. For the most part, I think restlessness has fueled every quest and exploration and is responsible for all the innovation of our race.

So, we may well sit and think of all that we have, all that we’ve achieved (or have been given, depending on your own outlook on such matters) and we can feel a sense of immense gratitude, peace and contentment. And the next moment begin wondering “but I wonder what would happen if I tried THIS?”. Can restlessness and contentment become friends? I believe so. I don’t think one negates the other at all. In fact, I think that true contentment and gratitude creates a quiet place in our minds and in that quiet, dreams are born and imagination can explode.

As an artist, as a painter, I paint mostly landscapes. I love my studio in Asheville’s River Arts District. I love creating artwork in that context, amidst such a great group (over 220) of artists with open studios. It feels tempting to just get comfortable with what I do; to get comfortable with what sells and to become predictable. But then I’d never feel restless, and though comfortable, I’d stop truly creating. And I would more closely resemble an assembly line worker than an artist.

I’m an artist, and I long for contentment. But I am trying to experience contentment in the context of a sublime restlessness that never seems to stop looking around the next turn in the road. What’s there? Is it the same as here? Let’s go and see. That mindset fuels all my creativity and I think compliments the inner quiet I (sometimes) truly experience in life.

"Why Should I Purchase Artwork?"

As an artist with an open studio, there are lots of questions I get asked from people who are visiting Asheville’s River Arts District. Sometime, I should make a list of the funniest (i.e. strangest!) questions I get asked but that’s for another blog post. :)

There is one question out there that is very rarely asked but is actually a valid question: Why should I purchase artwork? I almost think that if you’re asking that question, you probably shouldn’t be buying artwork. You should just go home to your concrete cube, turn on your single light bulb in the middle of the cube, sit down on your mat and stare at the wall and drink your protein smoothie. What? You have a nice house on a hillside with a nice view? You have a wide screen TV? You have granite countertops in your kitchen? Why? Is that necessary? As far as basic human needs go, we just need shelter (a roof and preferably some walls). Is the rest necessary? As far as basic human needs go, we just need food. Are herbs and spices necessary? Is awesome flavor “necessary”?

Is artwork a good investment? Yes. Absolutely every time.

Why have a nice house? Why have a nice car? Why have anything other than what is absolutely necessary? Simply because those extra things give us joy. Why sprinkle herbs de Provence on your chicken? Those herbs don’t add any nutritional value, so they’re unnecessary, correct? Technically, yes. But we add them because it just really makes the chicken taste awesome, right? Herbs de Provence gives us joy. The nice extras on top of the absolute rock-bottom necessities are added to life because they give us joy.

So, is artwork a good investment? Yes. Absolutely every time. Joy is beyond value. Can’t afford a $100,000 painting by some famous artist? Neither can I. (That’s why I paint my own paintings!) What I’m talking about is not necessarily a huge financial investment in art (unless you have deep pockets and that artwork you would like to purchase gives you joy. If that’s you, please email me at stclaireart@gmail.com or visit my studio at 344 Depot Street, Asheville NC. For the rest of us, what I’m talking about is even small, wise investments into a local artist because he or she is creating things that add joy to this world. When you purchase a painting or glass vase or a ceramic pitcher or piece of hand crafted furniture, you not only invest into something that adds joy to your own life, but you’re investing in another human being, enabling them to continue to create, which gives them joy. Joy goes all around!

So now and then, reach for that nice bottle of wine, sprinkle those herbs on your meat (or veggies) turn on some beautiful music, watch a sunset and sing. Why? Because it’s a necessity? Well actually, yes I think it is.

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. :)

"The Four Seasons on the French Broad River"

“The Four Seasons”

Growing up in Southern California, I never really experienced “seasons” per se. There was “foggy season” (May-June), “Fire Season” (September-October) and the rest was just hot. Living now in Asheville, North Carolina, I’m so loving the rhythm actual seasons bring to the year. Winter doesn’t last ALL that long, and it usually brings with it a few beautiful snow days. Spring is amazing. Absolutely awesome. Dogwoods are blooming and daffodils and tulips are going crazy. Summer is hot yes, but perfect for tubing down the French Broad River, hiking and camping up in the higher elevations. And then there is autumn. Oh my gosh. Autumn was always just a “theoretical” season growing up. Autumn in the Blue Ridge mountains of Western North Carolina is amazing. Autumn brings more visitors to my art studio in Asheville’s River Arts District than any other season of the year.

“…the power of beauty inspires the power of healing…”

The beauty of seasonal change is a big part of what I love about living in Asheville and working in my art studio. So I was really excited to have been asked by Mission Hospital to create a “Four Seasons” series for their Asheville campus. Each panel is 42” x 16” and each are covered with multiple layers of solar-resistant resin (so the surface is glassy-smooth).

This series was inspired by the many floats down the French Broad River that Joy and I make every summer, and it was great fun depicting each season, trying to think of the particulars about each one (blooming dogwoods in the spring panel and pink rhododendrons in the summer panel). My hope is that this series gives the doctors, nurses and patients at Mission the opportunity to “get lost” in each scene, and that the power of beauty inspires the power of healing. I think that’s possible!