Matins

I'm not sure if my latest painting is at a crossroads as far as what I'll be painting in the days ahead...

It's not exactly a desert landscape, and there's a human in the view! Still -- I like the results, but I'd have to do some serious thinking about how to include humans in the vast "wastelands" of the desert landscape.

In addition, conceiving of this image, and executing it, took longer than usual. I may have to increase the price to compensate!

Anyway, this is Baldwin Lake at the Los Angeles County Arboretum, Arcadia, CA. If you were a fan of "Fantasy Island," you've seen this lake as the "lagoon" that "Da plane! Da plane" supposedly landed in -- although, as you can see, it's much too small to land a plane here. (The Queen Anne House, the white-with-red-gingerbread trim structure Mr. Rourke used as his headquarters, is off to the right out of the field of view).

The painting is a combination of reality and fantasy. The Arboretum isn't open when the sun rises, so I've never seen the place with the backlighting I've depicted. Peacocks do roam the grounds, but they tend to remain near the entrance -- a good brisk walk off to the left. And I've never seen a young lady in a gauzy white dress standing there like this.

In addition, the lake's appearance goes back to 1997. Most of the papyrus plants (the green "pom-poms") seem to have died off. Also the curved palm tree on the right actually curves away from the lake, not toward it, and it's tall enough so the fronds should not even appear in the painting.

In any case, this is an idea I've had in my head for many, many years -- something tropical with exotic birds and an attractive young female (well, I assume she's attractive!) with my favorite color harmony -- yellow-green-blue. And the aquatic papyrus looks so tropical (African, in fact -- they grow along the Nile River from Egypt to Uganda and Tanzania).

I'll probably put the painting up for sale eventually. First, I'd like to see how prints of the image do.

Galleries...What to Do, What to Do?

I took a little trip to Palm Desert yesterday to run some errands...do some stuff I can't do here in the hi desert. One of those errands was to traverse El Paseo (a mile-long shopping district that's supposedly the equivalent of Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills) and see what's the latest with the art galleries there.

El Paseo, Palm Desert, CA   (Image by City of Palm Desert)

Well, let's see...some of the galleries I knew were gone -- out of business, I assume. A few other galleries moved around...not sure, but I think they downsized to lower square-footage spaces. Some of the places I remember are still there, and there were a few newer galleries, too, giving it a go.

What I also noticed was the continuing shift toward contemporary art. I didn't see much classical representation artwork, which -- of course -- that's the kind I do. With two exceptions, I didn't see any galleries on El Paseo where I thought I would fit.

Another thing -- seems like these days, I get feelings of discomfort just from being in galleries. I was handing out business cards and promotional postcards to a few of the galleries, but y'know -- I've had enough bad experiences with galleries (including one on El Paseo -- he's still there, by the way) that I'm still not sure I even want to go with them.

The balance of power definitely favors them. Galleries are so used to doing things a certain way (and it's worked for them) that artists like me really have no leverage. Consignment only. Contact them a certain way, even at a certain time of the year. Exclusivity rights -- artists can't show anywhere else within a defined region. No real contracts spelling out everyone's rights. And essentially being at their mercy.

Their cut is anywhere from 40% to 60% of the retail price of the art. Lots of hoops to jump through, and then they may take more than the artist can afford; at least, until the artists become "hot stuff," which tends to be unlikely.

So-o-o...I guess I'll have to continue to find other ways of selling art. Don't know what yet -- I feel like I've tried everything -- but I may have to try those same things somewhere else.

I'll keep painting and then storing the paintings until the right opportunities come along. I have to minimize these art-biz gambling losses -- I've lost too much already.

And, of course, I'll keep hoping that the economy will improve so people will return to buying "luxury" goods like art.

Painting in 2015

Alright...Now that we're three days into 2015, I guess I need to start thinking about what I'm gonna paint this year.

I wish I didn't have to be concerned with making money at art. But I need to. My Social Security doesn't bring in enough, and we don't have enough $$$ in our IRA accounts to last very long -- a few years at the most.

And the fact is -- while traditional/classical landscapes DO sell, My research shows they don't sell really well. Nowadays, art in general isn't selling, let alone for a relatively unknown artist-dude like me.

Not being negative here -- I'm facing the facts and being real. Sometimes in business, one must re-evaluate what it takes to make it all work.

This is a painting by Czechoslovakian artist Alphonse Maria Mucha. The style (Art Nouveau) is a little too dated for me, but it's colorful, playful, I (think I) could do similar work, and maybe it would sell better than what I do now. And I believe I could be happy doing it, so it's not like I'd be "selling out" or "not following my passion."

Fruit, Alphonse Maria Mucha, 1897

Another possibility might be a much more dramatic, but realistic, version of landscapes, similar to what one might see as a background in a sci-fi video game or movie. I can't show examples of what I have in mind do to copyright violation issues, but if I ever make some images in this genre, you're see them here.

Finally, I need to find a way to produce scenes that are less expensive -- the simpler style of Mucha would help with that -- less time spent on painting details -- and I may need to give up on the labor-intensive use of transparent glazes, which is a bit like doing the same painting over and over and over again because I paint in multiple layers when I use glazes. I love the stained-glass look of glazes, but I have to ask more $$$ for my paintings because they take much longer to do.

Prints would be another option -- I just need to find a way to make high-resolution, but inexpensive, digital files of the paintings, something I don't have the means to do now.

Well, in any case, 2015 is gonna hafta be the year I sell art -- more of it for less with a different look -- either a little or a lot different. meanwhile, I'll continue to paint the traditional work as a hobby -- works I'll be proud to hang on my own walls!

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.