First Influence

If you were to read my Bio/Statement on my Website http://southwestspaces.com/biography%20and%20statement.html (which is, of course, required reading for all!!), you would see some of the artists from the past who have influenced the way I work on my landscapes.

One artist, however, is missing from the list. This was a man with a German accent who I used to see at a weekly art show in the early 1970's at Griswold's in Claremont, CA. He painted mostly desert scenes that had an Old Master quality about them. His world was always "at the spring," with everything in bloom and rugged mountains rising tall behind the saguaros and ocotillos.

I was attending college in those days (actually, one of numerous runs in college) and wasn't working. So, sadly, I wasn't able to buy one of his paintings. I think this artist (whose name I don't remember) figured I might buy a piece sooner or later: he always made it a point to get up from his chair and come over to talk to me as I stood there, practically drooling over the beauty of his paintings.

Indeed, to this day I wish I would have found a way to hustle the money to buy one. He captured the sheer majesty of the desert in a way that inspires me today. I consider him the first influence in my painting career, and unfortunately, I'm unable to list his name because I don't know it. I doubt that he is alive today, and since Griswold's stopped doing the art shows years ago and has changed ownership at least once (it isn't even called "Griswold's" anymore), and since his studio/gallery that was located in Pomona, CA is long gone, I have no way to locate him or even search for his paintings online.

So the lesson is this: if you see art that touches you in a deeply profound way: BUY IT!! Now!! You, like me, may regret not doing so years from now. Truly one-of-a-kind art from one-in-a-kind artists is rare, and when you finally realize how much better your life would be if you only had "that painting" or "that sculpture" or whatever -- it may be too late.

You can buy that flat-screen TV anytime. They'll be around. Artists may not be.

Cactus and Other Critters

Bunnies aren't the only desert critters I put into paintings.

This is a cactus wren that I included in a large (48" x 60"/1.2m x 1.5m) painting. Cactus wrens are not the most colorful birds around, but they have a call that's unlike any other sound you've heard. When you hear it, you know you're in the desert.

Bunny Art

If you've ever wondered where my avatar (with the desert cottontail bunny-rabbit) came from:

It was one of our yard bunnies. I put out small amounts of food for the wild critters -- not enough for them to live on so they're not dependent on us -- and I take pictures of them. Bunnies, Gambels quail, roadrunners, coyotes (I don't put food out for them, but feeding prey indirectly feeds the predators), hawks, whatever. I use these photos as reference material to paint critters, almost always in a different, more dramatic context.

Look carefully at the attached image, and you'll see my avatar bunny near the bottom, right of center in a large (48" x 60"/1.2m x 1.5m) painting of the southern California desert in the Palm Springs area.

Concerned

I worry a lot, especially about things I can't control.

Take the painting, "Song of the Angels" on the right by William Bouguereau, quite possibly the best artist of the 19th century and arguably of all time. Many people today would not appreciate a painting like this and don't understand why it is an example of great art.

As one who is inspired by classical art, I'm concerned that kids today are not exposed to great art. Even college students are led to believe that work like this is "sentimental," "derivative, "boring" and worse.

Sadly, we have many art "professionals" who promote an agenda that de-emphasizes developing skill and discipline in the arts. It's like music students learning to play, sing or compose music without learning anything about scales, chord theory or other basics.

Add to this the fact that when school budgets get tight, the first things eliminated from the curricula are the art and music programs.

I'm one of those who believe so many people, maybe especially in America, see art as being entirely trivial -- nothing more than a decoration that matches the sofa and window treatment and that "ties the whole room together." And kids, and even many adults, know (and will learn) nothing about art and what great art can do for us. What will this do to the future of art and to those of us who make (and try to sell) traditional/classical art?

A fella by the name of Brian Yoder has a Website where he discusses the topic of great art in more depth than is possible here. Whether you agree with his viewpoint or not, his comments will make you think. Find his thoughts in his "frequently asked questions" section: http://www.goodart.org/faq.htm

Also, an outfit called the Art Renewal Center has many online articles and a vast collection of traditional artwork (also online): http://www.artrenewal.com (note: some of the art shown on this site, including the home page, does show nudity -- not to be confused with pornography IMO).

Meanwhile, I'll be busy -- painting in the classical style, and worrying whether or not anyone will even like this stuff in 10-20 years.

Art is My Drug

As I sit here at the confuser, I have a TV tuned to VH1's "Drug Years," a set of programs about the late 1960's-'70's and the proliferation of marijuana, LSD, speed and other stuff that became popular among the hippie culture. The programs bring back a lot of memories for me.

By 1968, I was already a year out of high school and was beginning to take on the look of the "hippies" I knew in community college. (The look eventually evolved into biker dress without the gang colors of Hells Angels et al). Many of the people I hung with used drugs; yet, for whatever reason, I didn't get into that stuff myself. Well, OK, I took ONE puff on a joint out of curiosity about the taste and how it felt to fill one's lungs intentionally with smoke. That was it. I've sometimes wondered why I never got caught up with drugs as others around me did.

I only thing I can figure is: I'm a rebel. Always have been. I wouldn't be an artist today if I wasn't willing to break away from convention and do something like that, especially when some people tell you "you can't make it as an artist." That just makes me want to prove them wrong.

I seem to rebel against whatever is popular, whatever the status symbols are, and -- of course -- the status quo. When the movie, "The Titanic" came out and it became such a hit, I made it a point NOT to see it. When SUVs became the rage, I hated 'em -- and still do. And when people tell me to accept things the way they are; or to take the safe, easy way -- hey! I'LL SHOW YOU!!!

And drugs and alcohol. Using them never struck me as being a very bright thng to do. I saw people who were out of control and acting stupid. I hate being out of control and acting stupid. I need discipline to do art and to grow in it, even when I wasn't that self-disciplined in the late '60's-early '70's.

I'm sure my rebellious nature has caused me a lot of problems over the years. But it also saved me from the negative consequences of using drugs.

Besides, art is my drug. Nothing else can compare to the high I get when a painting is turning out better than I expected. I'm not sure if art is cheaper than drugs, but I have something to show for it when the high is over. That works for me!

Desert Color

Most of the year, the desert can be a rather bland, colorless (though still dramatic) place. The greens that appear here tend to be grayed-down and subdued.

Spring is a whole 'nother matter, IF it rains in the right amounts and at the right time. Then the desert explodes with color. Flowers seem to appear from the brown sands and, in a matter of a few weeks, make up for the lack of color the rest of the year.

First to appear are the annuals, or ephemerals as they are sometimes called. This last name is appropriate, for they mysteriously appear quickly, last a short time and then totally vanish, leaving no trace or hint of their glorious existence.

Perennial shrubs and cactus bloom a bit later than the annuals. Cactus flowers, in particular, seem to glow in vivid, fluorescent hues. Pictures of some of these will follow this post soon.

The accompanying photo shows a Joshua tree, signature plant of the Mojave desert, in a field of light-yellow desert dandelions. I've already painted (and sold) a piece showing this view, which I witnessed in April 2008 in Joshua Tree National Park, CA. (I expect I'll be painting more works of this area soon).

Rainbow

It doesn't rain that often in the desert, as one might expect, so when it DOES rain and we get a rainbow out of it, that's pretty special!!