Thoughts About Art in 2015

The following is part of a news e-mail that I receive from the editor of a major art magazine:


"Would it surprise you that I know many artists who have become wealthy -- some incredibly wealthy -- from their art? You probably know who some of them are, but there are many more you haven't heard of who are making a killer living off their art."


This was the kind of thing that always energized me in terms of pursuing a career in art. I never even expected to become wealthy at making and selling art -- a comfortable living would be just fine.

The thing of it is -- I do know artists who do quite well, financially and emotionally. Some of them are excellent artists and others -- well, let's just say I don't connect as well with what they do.

For some reason, it hasn't turned out as well for me. Some of the problem, possibly, is that in southern California, buyers seem obsessed with impressionism and the plein air look. These people really seem to believe that this style is superior to the more photographic/classical realist look that I prefer. The blurry impressionist works "leave more for the imagination to fill in and is therefore 'better' than traditional realism." In fact, I read/hear this notion so much, it seems like it's a line that has been passed around, taught somewhere, gone viral and taken on a life of its own.

I suspect abstract expressionists feel their art is at the very top of intellectual involvement, then -- what could leave more to the imagination than artworks that don't have a subject at all?

Maybe it's a marketing thing -- the editor who wrote the above quote is selling a set of DVDs that is intended to help artists do better with the $$$. However, I know for a fact that what he said above is true -- there are artists (most are not household names like Thomas Kinkade) who sell -- even in this economy -- works that sell for much more than I ask for my pieces.

So -- where do I go from here? Well, for now I look upon my website (SouthwestSpaces.com) as more of an online portfolio than a real selling tool, although I have provided a means to sell from my site. I probably could do more with it, such as frame the paintings so they're ready to hang as soon as they arrive at the buyers' homes (as one friend suggested I do). It means shipping would be more involved, but not impossible.

Then there are galleries. I haven't had great luck with them. I think it helps if the artists already have an impressive following of buyers, but I don't have that. I find that gallery owners like my work, but they have difficulty selling it, at least in SoCal.

Outdoor art shows? Too much of a gamble. They're expensive to do and involve a lot of physical exertion. At too many of them, I had just enough sales to cover expenses (which is not the point of doing shows), or no sales at all.

In the end, not much will probably change next year. I'm painting landscapes that are not deserts in the hopes of attracting a more diverse crowd, and I'll continue to doodle along at a relaxed pace (I'm getting too tired to push like I used to). And I'll paint more holiday scenes for the book I want to put together together (Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas -- maybe Hanukkah -- images). Like this:

I can't afford the guy's DVDs (even with his moneyback guarantee), so I'll have to continue on my own.

Have a great 2015!

Decorating with Art: One More Time!

As you may have noticed, I really love the old-style, classical realism kind of art, whether 2D (paintings) or 3D (sculptures).

So when we used to watch TV (which we don't do so much anymore), it was often a bit distressing to see modern art/abstract expressionism work in shows where up-to-dateness and high style was the look intended for the backgrounds and actors. Realism was for lower-class characters or stuffy old rich folk who could afford to collect the Old Masters.

Most frustrating of all are the D-I-Y interior decorating programs such as those on Home & Garden TV (HGTV), where artwork is the last thing one does, one can make it him/herself, and its sole function is to "tie the room together." In short, anything that can be created quickly and that uses the same colors as those elsewhere in the room is fine. Eliciting emotional responses are not necessary.

Offhand, I don't know if the "artwork" to the left was made on a TV program, but it is fairly typical of an HGTV-generated piece. No doubt all of the colors that appeared in the furniture, throw pillows, carpeting et al are in this painting; in fact, many of the hues also show in the figurine of the macaw on the mantle, as well as in the glassware to the right of the macaw. It ties the room together. How color-coordinated.

Any guesses as to how long it took to paint this masterpiece?

And sadly, this kind of stuff has so infused the American consciousness that it's all accepted without question or comment. Excellence is no longer a criteria for what we look at every day on our walls.

On the right is a different approach for adding culture to a room. This is a shower curtain that has been turned into a wall hanging. I assume it wasn't expensive, and if you like octopuses (ocotopi?), then this is just the thing for you.

I've also seen TV designers heading over to fabric stores and buying material with either a pattern or pictures, stretched on art canvas stretcher bars, and hung.




Now -- maybe this is all intended to be temporary. When the decorating budget recovers, maybe the home owners will pick up some real art -- as long as it's in the appropriate colors. One can hope.

Many years ago, I took a college course in interior decorating. The instructor told us it's best to choose the carpeting and furniture colors first, since colors are more limited in these items. Then choose the paint color to go with the furnishings.

I'd go a step further: choose the artwork first -- the works that move you and that speak to you in a way like nothing else can. Then get the furniture, and then get the wall paint.

Do it this way, and you'll have a beautifully-designed room that you'll want to come home to and that makes your life better because of the art that touches your soul in special ways.

The Biology of ... Mermaids???

My best paintings tend to be of subjects I know very well -- deserts, especially.

So doing an underwater scene, in the Mediterranean Sea, mermaids, sunken classical ruins -- these are new things to me, as least as far as painting them myself is concerned.

The City of Mermaids shows the sunken city of Atlantis, which I always imagined was somewhere (if it existed at all) in the Mediterranean Sea, perhaps near Greece or Italy. Legend has it that the place was an island that sunk into the sea due to an earthquake, volcanic eruption or both.

Thus, I did a lot of research so the fish and invertebrates that I depicted would be those one would find in the Mediterranean, including the sea grass (Posidonia oceanica) which seems to be the dominant plant there. (Thank God for the Internet and Google Images!)

Mermaids are another story. I went with the legends of the half-human female - half fish. Mermaids (and fairies) are beings I kind of wish existed. While I'm not obsessed with either as art subjects, they're fun and an escape from what I usually do.

Being both an artist and a biologist, I had to think of what a mermaid would be like from an anatomical standpoint. Unlike women who perform as mermaids by wearing a pull-on fluke (or tail), mermaids would not propel themselves like humans moving their legs inside of the fluke. Mermaid backbones would extend all the way to their caudal (tail) fins, and thus would feature that neat up-and-down motion of dolphins and whales. Humans' knees don't allow for this and only bend in one direction.

Likewise, I don't believe mermaids could sit on their "knees" as humans do -- their tails wouldn't be flexible enough for that, not could they wrap their tails around themselves as I've seen depicted in 19th century paintings of the critters.

Oh, yes -- my mermaids don't wear clothing to cover up anything. I can't imagine marine creatures needing to do that -- modesty is a human failing, after all!

Finally, my mermaids are not exactly skinny. Besides the fact that a little weight on women is attractive to me, the warmblooded mammalian half of mermaids would require fat (aka "blubber" in seals and whales) to insulate them from the cold ocean depths.

In the legends, mermaids seemed to like human males, and they somehow managed to enjoy each others' company. I didn't touch on those themes here, and I didn't get into mermen or merkids -- that might appear in a future project. Supposedly, mermaids were known for being fickle; for that reason, I would avoid trying to have a relationship with them. ☺

Meanwhile, The City of Mermaids is one of the hardest pieces I've ever made, and I'm not entirely sure it's of the quality I want to see in my terrestrial scenes. But it's hard to say, really. I've never seen a view like this! Feel free to comment and let me know if you think this image works!

Finding Light in the Desert

Finding light in the desert...well, OK, it's normally not hard to find light in the desert, of all places. But finding the right kind of light can be problematic.

One of the major blessings of living so close to Joshua Tree National Park -- a place I love to paint -- is being able to pop on over there any time I need to so I can be there when the time -- and the lighting -- is right.

Dawn

The above image is one of my prints that is available at FineArtAmerica.com. I went to the Park just before sunrise so I could be in a good spot to capture the rising sun along with some Joshua trees and the monzogranite rock formations that climbers love to scramble over.

For, you see, it isn't just any kind of light that I look for. Lighting changes so much during the day and in different seasons. Early-morning and pre-sunset light (my favorites) come from different directions, and summer lighting at those times comes from further north than winter lighting which is more from the south. As both a photographer and a painter (especially the latter), it helps to go to the Park knowing what kind of light to expect. And since I know the Park reasonably well, I often know where I need to go to take advantage of the light I'll find.

In fact, sometimes I develop an idea for a painting and then go to where I will find a locale to match. Sometimes I'll wait as long as six months to return to the site i want to photograph/paint because I know the lighting will be what I want to depict.

The photo above that I took will assist me in a painting I want to make, hopefully soon. Since I wanted to offer it as a print, too, and I don't have an ultra high-resolution camera that costs more than our house, I had to Photoshop it just a little -- I used a watercolor look which a.) makes it appear to be a watercolor painting, and 2.) hides the blurred edges that would show at larger magnifications since my camera is only an 8MP camera. And: I cheated and added the image of the red-tailed hawk in flight. Personally, I think the image turned out well.

In the end, both photography and painting work better when the artist chooses his/her lighting carefully. And if the artist lives close to a place that makes it quick and easy to get to a favorite spot when the lighting is fantastic, so much the better.

Art is a Jealous Mistress

Art is a jealous mistress, and if a man have a genius for painting, poetry, music, architecture or philosophy, he makes a bad husband and an ill provider, and should be wise in season and not fetter himself with duties which will embitter his days and spoil him for his proper work.
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson


OK -- I hope I'm not THAT bad. But the first five words of Emerson's brief observation certainly rings true with me.

If one is really serious about art and trying to make each work the best work one he/she ever done, it must be practiced a LOT. One must give up everything to be an artist -- or so I've heard. An artist can't become good in his/her craft by taking the casual approach.
 

But then there's this: Matthew 6:24 (KJV) -- No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon. (My emphasis).

Mammon, in this case, is a reference to money, but it can be anything that becomes #1 in our lives. I don't think art comes before God in my life, but it is pretty important, save for those times when I feel fed-up with art and the art world.

And then there's the issue of trying to sell art -- another entire source of stress and frustration. Whether paintings sell or not, I have to keep working -- either to replace the items that sold, or trying to find paintings that people are willing to buy.

I've also learned that selling art is not as simple as "paint what they like and they'll buy it." Having a "following" -- a certain amount of fame -- tends to be a major component of an artist's success. This has been a little out of my reach, unfortunately. And in some cases, painting in the current trend of decorator colors -- matching the sofa -- is important, too. When you paint in a classical way as I like to do, color matching has nothing to do with it. But try convincing decor-orientated buyers of that!

So in short -- art has taken over my life, but I almost can't afford to do it anymore. Art is a jealous mistress. One must give up everything to be an artist.

That includes any semblance of financial stability and, perhaps, sanity!

By the way -- these paintings are available for purchase at Crystal Fantasy in Palm Springs, CA. Stop by or contact them soon. Don't wait too long!

The Enchanted Realm

For desertophiles like me, most of the desert is an enchanted realm. But in this case, it's also the title I gave to my latest painting of Joshua Tree National Park in California.

The Enchanted Realm                                                                         18" x 24"

I was in this spot a couple of times (although I may not return -- the desert has a delicate layer of cryptobiotic soil -- "dirt" + microorganisms -- that is disturbed easily by hiking on it and that can take years to heal). The first time I was there, a neat cloud shadow spread across the land as you see it here.

I added some minor touches of my own, but I was so moved by the way nature painted this magical place, I felt it didn't need much help from me.

I use "The Vast Spaces of the Southwest" as my tagline. This scene is a perfect example of what I love about the desert and all of that distance that seems to touch infinity. It's a place where one can go and be in touch with the universe because we can see so much of it here. Not intergalactic space, obviously, but just -- big spaces and small us!

Sometimes I Long for the Old Days

Sometimes I long for the old days. With photography, that is.

In many ways, digital photography has been a real blessing -- no film, no processing, no darkrooms, instant results (if the pic didn't turn out, you can do a re-shoot on the spot). And, of course, the images are immediately website/Internet-friendly with minor tweaking. Even infrared photography is so much easier to deal with, as in the following picture:

What bothers me is: all of the 35mm cameras and accessories that are just sitting in a large camera bag and a box. I put a LOT of money into getting the best items that were available for my Minolta X-700 (and XGM) cameras, including zoom lenses, fixed-focal lenses, closeup extension bellows and two lenses to use with it, slide copier... I never totalled up how much $$$ I spent on all of it. But now it all just sits there.

Meanwhile, I'm using digital cameras that were affordable and they do the job (mostly), but they can't begin to compare in quality to my 35mm setup.

Oh, well. There's a season for everything, I guess. Maybe someday the 35mm season will return.