The Artist’s Journal: Dustin Van Wechel

Announcements And Upcoming Shows

2011-05-27T13:42:00.004-07:00

I’ve had a string of good news as of late...

First, I’ve been selected the Southeastern Wildlife Expo’s featured painter for next year — their 30th anniversary. I’ve been participating in SEWE for 7 years now. Given my relatively short time in being a part of the show makes this honor all the more special.

Second, I was invited to participate in Trailside Gallery’s first annual summer miniatures show and sale; Masters in Miniature, to be held at their Jackson, Wyoming location. Trailside is one of the elite western art galleries in the U.S. and represents a number of artists who’s work I greatly admire — several of whom will also be in the miniatures show. To have been invited to be a part of this event is truly an honor.

"Grandstanding", Oil on linen, 11"x14"

"Meadow Mashers" Oil on linen, 10"x12"

And finally, I have again been asked to be a part of the National Museum of Wildlife Art’s Western Visions Show and Sale. This will be my 6th year and to say I'm excited and moved by the museum’s continued interest in my work would be a gross understatement.

"A Rare Find", Oil on linen, 9"x12"

A Word (or several) About Symbolisim In Art

2011-03-22T09:53:00.006-07:00

Symbolism in art. It's both one of art's greatest aspects, and one of its greatest drawbacks. Taken to extremes, the audience is duped into engaging in a pseudo-intellectual goose chase, attempting to decipher the symbolism of a splash of wasted red paint on a white canvas. And at the other end, an over-rendered piece of wall decoration with no intellectual value (or artistic value, for that matter).

Truly great art functions on many different levels, from the initial impact of its beauty, to eliciting an emotional connection from the viewer, to a deeper narrative of symbolism that communicates the artist's ideas, thoughts, feelings or beliefs. Art that excels in all of these areas is not just the product of a skilled artist, but is also the culmination of an artist's life-experiences.

Infusing a work of art with symbolism gives the viewer another opportunity for discovery. An artist who's work and ethic I greatly admire wrote that it's the artist's job to give the viewer direction and it's the viewer's responsibility to make the discoveries — I completely agree. Symbolism in painting enriches those discovers by giving the viewer a bit more about the artist. And if it's executed well, and is based in life-experience, symbolism in one's art can play a vital roll in helping to better the quality of one's work.

As I grow as an artist and a person, I hope to make symbolism a more important part of my paintings. I hope it enriches the experience of viewing my work and gives the art lover an opportunity to better understand me as an artist.

Transending Genre And The Subjective Nature Of Art

2011-03-21T11:37:00.019-07:00

This past weekend, I made my second-annual journey to bask in the wondrous glow that is the Masters of the American West show at the Autry Center in Los Angeles, CA. My wife, close friend and artist, Ray Brown, and I spent the better part of Saturday ogling the extraordinary works on display and had several jubilant conversations about the art.

One of those conversations spawned two important (but pretty obvious) realizations that I'd like to communicate here; first, great paintings transcend their subject matter. And second, at the level of work on display at the Masters show, personal preference of one painting (or artist) over another is subjective and has little to do with the quality of the artist's technique or skill.

The first realization came from our collective decision to partake in a little fantasy; What piece of art in the show would each of us take home over all the others if we had the means. My wife made an interesting point, her choice was based not necessarily on what she felt was the most aesthetically pleasing piece, or a painting or sculpture that would best suite the decor of our home, but rather, which work of art she connected with most on an emotional level.

I'm not all that into 'cowboy' or 'Indian' paintings as a genre of art. The subject matter isn't particularly interesting to me. But the painting I chose was a painting of three native Americans on horseback titled, Lost Tracks by Z.S. Liang. For me, this painting was beyond its subject. It transcended subject matter as the greatest of paintings do. I connected with it on an emotional level. It was exquisite and appealed to everything I personally find beautiful in representational painting. Much of Liang's paintings are like this for me, and my wife as well. One of his paintings at the show even made Yvonne a little teary-eyed (and no, she's not allergic to great paintings as she tried to make us to believe).

The artist's ability to create a work that can so deeply affect the viewer is, I think, what we are all striving for as artists. My goal as an artist is not to produce great wildlife or landscape paintings, but instead, is to produce great art. I hope that one day I will be capable of creating a painting that transcends its subject as my wife and I both felt Z.S. Liang's had done.

The second conversation involved Ray and I. We began contemplating who's work might one day take the position of prominence in the show (as you enter, a large Howard Terpning painting greets you) after Howard has passed on — sort of morbid conversation but it wasn't as bad as it sounds here. I think we both agreed that it would likely be one of the great Chinese painters, in particular, Mian Situ. Although, I personally think Morgan Weistling will be in the running.

I mentioned that I actually prefer Z.S. Liang's paintings over Howard's. Ray, as a generalization, preferred Howard's. We had our differing reasons, but in the end, neither one of us could convince the other to switch our preference, because from a purely technical standpoint, the two artists are masters. You can't argue that one is technically better than the other because they're beyond that. It could only come down to personal preference of one artist's style over the other and that is a truly great example of the subjective nature of art — especially when considering Ray and I have very similar taste in art.

There are a number of artists in the Master Show that I feel belong on the 'wall of prominence'. Ray's and my opinion certainly doesn't matter. In the end, the choice will be somewhat subjective because at this level of painting, personal opinion is all there is left to argue.

To Trade Or Not To Trade? There Is No Question.

2011-03-08T14:16:00.001-07:00

I'm an artist, but I'm as much an art lover as I am an artist. Which, at this stage in my career, is a bit of a problem. I'm always broke (relatively speaking) and can't afford to buy original art.

However, being an artist that participates in a number of shows every year, I've finally been graced with a wondrous little perk — other artists that also do these shows, and who's work I admire, are getting interested in my work and the door to trade has been unlocked.

I now have a standing invitation with several artists (who I consider friends) to trade when I find a painting or sculpture of theirs I'm interested in having. What a fabulous opportunity to build my own personal art collection! In fact, at my last two shows, I was approached by several artists interested in trading work. I'd have a number of new pieces to start my collection if it wasn't for the fact that most of my current inventory was unavailable for trade due to prior commitments. But, as I create more work over the coming months, I'll be keeping their offers firmly in mind.

Trade, as incredible as it sounds, is a BIG responsibility. I want to make sure I not only select art that I connect with emotionally, but I also want to be sure I get work that best reflects the artist's style and skill. Now I know how serious collectors feel.

Thanks to those artists who enjoy my work enough that they're interested in trading for it — it’s tremendously flattering. I'm really looking forward to starting my collection.

It's About The Journey

2011-02-23T09:50:00.008-07:00

An artist friend of mine (with whom I was traveling) mentioned over dinner that when she was in college, she spent countless hours working to be a better artist. One day, an art instructor pulled her aside and said to her that she should slow down and enjoy her time in school, because to become a great artist, one must get some life-experience behind them. He told her that she probably wouldn't be saying anything too important with her work until she hit 40ish.

My artist friend took this to heart and did relax a bit, but in the back of her mind, her instructor had seeded a somewhat arbitrary goal — that she should be successful as an artist (whatever that means to her) by the time she reached 40. And now that she's approaching that age, she feels a sense of urgency in "making it" as an artist.

On the one hand, what her instructor said is true — most artists don't hit their stride until they've got some life-experience behind them. However, I can name a number of artists that were doing profound work in their 20s, so take such assertions with a grain of salt. On the other hand, and more importantly, I feel her instructor missed an opportunity to let her know that while goals are an important part of artistic growth, we often put too much emphasis on them and not enough on the real joy of being an artist; the journey to reaching our goals.

The journey of an artist is a life-long one. It should never end as long as one continues to pursue growth in their work. Goals are simply destinations on our journey and should not be viewed as the defining achievements that make us who we are as artists. It's the journey that defines us. As long as we continue to enjoy the process of being an artist, and dedicate ourselves to moving forward, we will reach our goals. And more importantly, we will have done so without being smothered under the self-imposed burden of attaining them.

Enjoy your journey. Lose yourself in the process and don't let your sense of urgency in reaching your goals lessen the fun of realizing them.

Time For Some Thank Yous...And A Little Boasting

2011-02-23T09:18:00.000-07:00

I had another great show this year at the Southeastern Wildlife Expo in Charleston, SC — tons of fun, friends, food and art (maybe not in that particular order). I wanted to thank all of the wonderful art lovers who purchased my work this year. I can't tell you how flattering it is when you enjoy my work enough to make it a part of your collection.

I'd also like to thank all the folks at SEWE for putting on such a great event. You guys always make my time at SEWE so enjoyable and your hard work really shined this year. Thanks so much for inviting me to participate.

Thanks to my artist housemates for the laughs and the company. You know who you are, and if you don't, well then you probably drank too much over the weekend.

And finally, thanks to the judges for awarding me the 'Best In Show' award. It's a true honor to have my painting Watchtower selected from such an incredible collection of work at this year's show. (There, that's enough boasting... I think)

Gearing Up For SEWE

2011-02-05T08:15:00.000-07:00

In just about a week and a half I'll be flying out to Charleston, SC to attend the Southeastern Wildlife Expo. It's a large, group wildlife art show and is one of my favorites. The city of Charleston is exquisite, the people are charming and the show itself is a blast.

In my 7 years (has it been that long?) of exhibiting in the show, I've made many friends — collectors, art lovers and other artists — who I very much look forward to seeing. And that's the strange part, at least in a way. I'm much more excited about seeing all of my friends than I am the prospect of selling artwork. It's sort of counter productive considering I make my living by selling my work. One would think my first priority would be to focus on getting my paintings sold, but that's not so in the case of SEWE. I just love being there and my first priority is to enjoy my friends and the town I've grown so fond of.

If you're in the area, be sure and stop by!

The Glacier National Park Project

2011-01-23T21:31:00.001-07:00

I recently discovered a web site called "Kickstarter". They facilitate fundraising for artists, musicians, filmmakers, and other creative folk who are interested in developing creative projects. It's incredible how far technology has come — this kind of opportunity didn't exist just a few years ago. Now the individual artist, musician, etc., has access to a much larger base of people who are interested in funding the arts and those that do wish to fund creative projects have access to a much larger pool of talented creatives.

With my discovery of Kickstarter, I decided to take the opportunity to try and get a project of my own funded...

Due to the financial limitations many of us artists face, we can often feel limited in producing the best work we're capable of. In many ways, I've felt such limitations. In particular, I've felt limited in my access to the subject matter I love; the mountains and their inhabitants. Every year I try to get out for as long as I can afford and immerse myself in the landscape — soaking up as much as I can. But all too often, I'm limited, financially, to spend as much time as I feel I need to truly connect with my subject matter. But that's life and I try to make due. However, with my discovery of Kickstarter, I have an opportunity to fulfill a long-held dream of mine; to spend an extended period of time in one of the most pristine and remote of America's National Parks painting, sketching, and photographing my subjects without feeling rushed. If my project were funded, I could relax and focus on my work and my subject in ways I've never been able to before.

In the end, my project is about producing my most comprehensive, reflective and personal body of work to date.

I invite you all to take a closer look at my project. For those of you interested in supporting the arts, please consider my project. For those artists out there, take a close look at Kickstarter. Maybe it can help you to fund a project you wouldn't otherwise be financially able to on your own.

Click here to check out my project!

Shows: What To Bring And What Not To Bring

2011-01-14T09:02:00.001-07:00

I'm often asked by artists just getting into group art shows about what they should be bringing in the way of artwork, i.e., how many pieces, what sizes, what subjects, etc. I stressed over these same questions when I first began, and in my relatively short time doing shows, I've now arrived at a conclusion that seems to work for me.

First, I try to bring a wide selection of work. Depending on the show and the amount of space I'll have, I typically bring anywhere from 12 to 20 paintings. Sounds like a lot doesn't it? Well, it's not as bad as you might think.

The paintings I bring are basically divided up into three groups — small (11x14" or smaller), medium (12x16" - 18x24"), and large (anything above 18x24"). These groups are based on my pricing structure. Smaller paintings are more expensive per square inch, medium paintings get a little less expensive and larger ones drop even more. This selection of small, medium and large works are typically divided as follows; 1 half of the paintings are small, the rest are medium and I'll bring one, or maybe two, large paintings depending on my available space. Large paintings are great to bring folks into your space, but in my experience, they can be difficult to sell in these kinds of show environments.

What subjects should you bring? You’ll hear a number of varying opinions about this from other artists. My opinion is simple — bring the subjects you enjoy painting. Period. Do not try to cater to what you think a particular show's demographic is interested in purchasing. You'll almost always be wrong and as an artist, you're missing the very point of being a fine artist — you paint what you want because that's what you love to paint.

And finally, I'd like to say something about making your work available to everyone. I bring a number of very small paintings to these shows (6x8") because 1st, I enjoy painting them. They're simple, expressive and they give me an opportunity to focus on my brushwork and color usage without struggling with the complexities a larger painting might bring. And 2nd, they are very inexpensive (when it comes to fine art) which allows serious art buyers who may not have much discretionary income to spend, an opportunity to obtain one of my paintings if they so choose.

Here's an example of a recent 6x8" painting of mine titled, "Iorek".

In The Zone Or Just Making Excuses

2011-01-01T09:49:00.001-07:00

Ok, I'll admit it. I've let slide my electronic responsibilities. It's been more than two months since I've posted an entry here. I apologize (assuming of course that anyone out there actually cares).

But, I do have an excuse. I've been painting — feverishly. I'm in the process of creating new pieces for my upcoming shows and I've made little time for anything else. Now that the holidays have arrived, I've been somewhat forced to take some time off and be with family — which is why I'm hiding here in my office writing on my blog.

New Year's Resolution #1: Make no more excuses and write more frequently on my blog. Check.

So, here's a small peek into what I've been working on. It's a 16x20" oil on linen. Hope you like it!

Happy New Year everyone!

My Latest Painting And A Note About Artistic License

2010-10-14T14:41:00.002-07:00

Here is my latest painting. It's a smallish, 16"x12" oil on linen. No title as of yet.

And, here is the reference photo I used for the bear.

The reason I'm posting these is because I'd like to point out the importance of taking artistic license when painting representational subjects...

I observed the bear in this painting for many hours over the course of a week in Jackson Hole, WY. He was a great example of a cinnamon-colored black bear. But, you may notice that in the reference photo I used for this painting, the bear's head appears extremely small — especially for his body. This wasn't due to photographic distortion, he just had a head that looked disproportionately small when compared with the rest of his body. So, I took artistic license and made his head much larger in the painting (among other things) because painting it as it actually was would have appeared strange, even distracting to me. Maybe it wouldn't have bothered anyone else, but it bugged me. So I changed it.

My point being, don't be afraid to alter reality if it means making a better painting. Because a good painting is always the top priority, and not necessarily anatomical accuracy (at least in this case).

Art Tip #5: Photographing Your Work

2010-10-14T07:53:00.001-07:00

For my 5th art tip in the series, here's a link to Robert Hunt's web page on "Photographing Reflective Art". It's one of the best "How-To" on photographing one's artwork I've read.

Thanks to Robert for such an informative post!

Enjoy!

The Subtle (But Most Important) Benefit Of Doing Shows

2010-09-27T09:02:00.005-07:00

Shows can be tough. The difficulties of needing to generate revenue as an artist and balancing the sometimes huge costs associated with doing shows can wear down even the most enthusiastic of us artists. We need to make money when galleries are having trouble selling our work (or even when they aren’t), but there are no guarantees we'll sell at any particular show. The only real guarantee is that we'll spend money just attending them — and lots of it. When you calculate everything from show fees to travel expenses, lodging and food, shipping costs, commissions...it really starts to add up.

This constant, nagging need to produce revenue just to cover expenses can overshadow some of the more subtle benefits of doing shows. Benefits that often times bear more fruit than just making a little money.

Understand that shows are the ultimate connection to an art-loving audience. Within that audience there are likely collectors, gallery curators, art publication editors, other show coordinators and people that may not as of yet be financially able to purchase your work, but may be able to in the future. This is the true benefit of doing art shows as an artist — making connections with folks that can help you in your journey as an artist. It supercedes the immediate possibility (and need) of generating revenue because it is an opportunity to put into place the elements that will help to build your career. The connections that can be made at shows are often the catalyst for an artist's success, and when nurtured over time, the relationships originated at shows build a firm foundation the artist can rely on for future revenue. Shows are exposure — exposure to a highly targeted audience. As an artist, this exposure is your greatest asset in building your career. Don’t underestimate it. And whatever you do, don’t let any lack of sales at any particular show dampen your outlook if you're able to make connections with people who love your work.

Art Tip #4: Drawing; Getting Your Proportions Right

2010-09-26T07:47:00.003-07:00

This month's art tip is geared towards helping you focus on the fundamentals. In this case, drawing—and more specifically, proportions.

Many artists struggle with drawing and it can be difficult to find help in getting the tools they need to improve their drawing skills. I'm often blown away by the number of artists that are unaware of measuring. Measuring is part of learning to see as an artist. An artist must see in very literal terms and not let the brain’s learned biases get in the way. A great example is if you asked an adult how tall a man is that is standing off in the distance, they would most likely take a guess at his height; “Oh, he’s about 6’2” I would guess.” As an artist, you can’t think that way! Think like a very young child. If you ask a very young child how tall that same man is, they might give you his height by sticking out their hand and placing him between their first finger and thumb and exclaim; “He’s this tall!” That’s how an artist needs to think and see—as literal as one can, and measuring is an integral part of learning to see this way.

Measuring is a key component in getting proportions correct in your drawing. I'm sure you've seen the cliché of an artist holding their thumb, pencil, brush, or whatever, out in front of their subject. I can tell you they aren't checking wind direction — they're measuring. Measuring works like this (I'll use figure drawing as my example)... Let's say you're painting from a live model. On your substrate you first establish a baseline to work from. The head is the most common use of measurement in figure drawing and makes a good baseline to from which to work. I first draw a very loose shape on my substrate that represents the head of my model.

Then, using whatever tool I'm drawing with as a measuring stick, I close one eye, stick out my tool, and using my thumb to mark off a unit of measurement, I measure the height of my model's head. Then, I step off how many of my model's heads it takes to equal the height of his or her entire body. I count the number (let's say she or he was 7 heads tall) and then I measure the shape I drew for a head on my substrate and mark off 7 heads. I now have a fairly accurate estimate of the height of my model — and I've been able to get that same height/head ratio down on my substrate.

This process of measuring works for everything you draw. If I was doing a portrait, I could use the model's eye or nose as the standard of measurement. I.e., my model's head is 4 and a half noses in height and 3 wide.

Measuring is great for judging foreshortening. For example, if your model is sitting with his or her legs coming out towards you, using their head to measure how long their legs should appear works excellent — something you may misjudge without measuring. You'd be surprised just how many heads it may take to equal the length of a pair of legs coming out at you. That's a strange phrase, but you get the point.

When I'm painting in plein air, I often use a stone or tree or something else prominent in the image, as my unit of measurement. For example, I might be painting a scene where I want the mountain to be the dominate subject — towering over everything else. I can use a tree as my unit of measurement to see just how tall the mountain should be in relation to my trees. Is the mountain in my image 4 trees tall or is it 3? In landscape painting you can get away with less proportional accuracy because you may want to exaggerate certain elements in a scene and it will still look right. In drawing and painting living beings, people or animals, you don’t have as much room to play if you want them to remain believable. This is why measuring, and getting the proportions correct through measuring, is so important.

I hope you found this tip useful. And as always, have fun drawing and painting!

New Paintings For The Benefit Show At The Moose Horn Gallery

2010-08-04T09:58:00.001-07:00

As I posted previously, I'm participating in a benefit art show and sale at the Moose Horn Gallery, August 20th — 22nd. Here are some of the new works that will be for sale at the show. Hope to see you there!


"Desert Dwellers", 16" x 20" Oil on Linen

"The Rubberneckers", 11" x 14" Oil on Linen

"Manny", 8" x 6" Oil on Linen

"Moe", 8" x 6" Oil on Linen

"Jack", 8" x 6" Oil on Linen

Art Tip #3: Tips For Beginning Plein Air Painters From A Beginner

2010-08-02T14:54:00.010-07:00

I'm a beginner when it comes to plein air painting. I've been doing it for about 6 years and have made it an important part of my artistic growth now for about the last 4 years — but I'm still very much a beginner.

With that in mind, I have picked up some very useful tips on making plein air painting easier. OK, maybe not easier, but certainly a tad less frustrating. Here are my top 10 tips...

1) If you're just starting out, start out small.
I dived in headfirst and initially tried painting on larger canvases — DON'T! You're just going to be spending time filling in space and not bettering your painting skills. Time is short in doing plein air work, so until you feel you can do it with authority, I'd recommend not going larger than 11x14 (that's inches not feet, and that's pushing it).

2) Time goes by fast so get the important stuff down.
And by that I mean the shadows. Shadows are the most dominate element in defining form and they change quickly. Record them on your canvas first and that way you won't end up chasing them later. Also, start with the darkest shadow or element in the scene. It will allow you to judge all of your values back from there.

3) Setup your colors on your pallet the same way every time you go out.
There's no time to lose, including hunting for your colors. If you lay them out the same each time you paint en plein air, eventually you'll barely have to look down to see where they are — saving you precious time.

4) Wipe that messy brush after every stroke.
It's very easy to get mud when painting en plein air because the urgency of it tends to override things you might normally do in the studio, like keeping your brush from contaminating colors. To avoid this, I've made it a habit to wipe my brush after every stroke.

5) Plein air painting is about an impression.
Hence the term impressionist. Don't waste your time with unnecessary details. Edit the scene down to its most important elements in value, color and shape and record it with your brush. Initially, think of plein air painting as sketching, except with a brush and color rather than a pencil. As you progress, you'll get better at telling the story with less detail and more economy of brushwork.

6) Stop looking for the perfect location and just paint.
I've wasted entire days trying to find a spot that "inspires" me. In the beginning, painting en plein air should be about learning, not about producing a masterwork. You can paint anything you see, so just stop stalling and pick something. If you have a difficult time separating out an area to paint from what you see in front of you, get a viewfinder. It'll help you frame-out an area to paint.

7) Try to not setup with direct sunlight on your pallet or canvas.
I realize this isn't always possible. Sometimes you can use an umbrella if shade is unavailable (though, I've found an umbrella can be difficult to work with if a stiff wind sends the umbrella and the easel it's attached to, flying). Harsh sunlight on your canvas and pallet will cause you to misjudge your values, so when you take your painting indoors, it can look much too dark. If you must paint in direct sunlight, mix your values lighter to compensate.

8) Morning and evening light moves fast. Want to add a bit more time?
Paint the scene backlit. Shadows won't appear to change as quickly when you're painting a scene that is backlit. You also won't have to worry as much about setting up in the shade because your canvas will shade itself and your pallet (at least in a typical plein air setup).

9) Don't forget the practical items.
It's easy to remember your easel, pallet, brushes and colors (well, for some anyway). But don't forget things like grocery bags, paper towels, a hat, bug spray, etc. Make a checklist before you go out and have it handy from then on to make sure you aren't missing anything. Or better yet, setup a backpack with everything all packed and ready to go on a moments notice.

10) Stop being afraid of doing it.
Yes, it's tough. Yes, you might be embarrassed if someone sees. Yes, you likely won't feel good about any of the paintings you produce for a long while. But please, take my word for it and understand that it can be fun, rewarding and relaxing — that's right, I said relaxing. Use it as an opportunity to not only better your skills as a painter, but to connect with nature and enjoy the sounds, the smells and the solitude (if that's what relaxes you) that can come with painting en plein air.

Happy painting!

Attending Workshops: What's Your Motivation?

2010-08-02T14:02:00.003-07:00

Prompted by an email conversation I recently had with an artist friend of mine, I've decided to post some of my thoughts on the subject of workshops. What better time than now to do so given that I'll be conducting an oil painting workshop in October (yes, that was a not-so-subtle plug).

First, I'll start by making known my particular approach to workshops — both from an instructor's point-of-view, and as an attendee...

As an Instructor:
I believe painting is a skill, and in its most fundamental form, is NOT a talent. Painting, as I see it, is a complicated set of problems that can be articulated and then addressed through practice, technique, dedication and study. Certainly there are those that will excel in the endeavor of painting beyond what most of us would otherwise achieve through simple practice, technique, dedication and study. But the fundamentals of painting can be learned and one can have confidence that if they apply copious amounts of dedication, practice and study, they will eventually become a good painter — maybe not a great painter, but most assuredly a good one.

That being said, I believe it is my roll as an instructor to not attempt to teach style as it pertains to me personally, but rather teach what I know and understand about the process and fundamentals of painting. I believe teaching one's style will typically just produce artist clones rather than give attending artists a set of tools to develop their own personal style. And the more unique the instructor's own style, the more they should limit its involvement in their workshop curriculum, in my opinion.

Does this do a disservice to workshop attendees who want to learn to paint from an artist whose work they admire for its uniqueness? I believe not. Artists that attend workshops for the sole purpose of learning the style of another artist are the only ones doing themselves a disservice.

Which brings me to...

As An Attendee:
To be completely honest, I have never attended a workshop. There are several artists whose work I greatly admire and who I believe would have much to offer me as a student, but these artists are exceptionally unique in their personal styles and I'm afraid that too much of that style would find its way into their workshops. The result would be that rather than learning tools to become a better painter, I would pickup "tricks" to paint more like them. I didn't say this was a justified fear, rather just my fear as an artist.

If I were to attend a workshop, I would first consult artists who've previously been a student under a particular artist I'm interested in and find out the instructor's approach. Did the instructor communicate well or did they keep their mouth closed and spend most of the workshop wowing attendees by performing demos without much in the way of instruction? Did the attending artist feel the instructor was honest during critiques? Did they offer criticism from an emotional reaction or was their criticism more technical in nature? And simply, did the student feel their instructor was a good teacher?

My motivation for taking a workshop would be simple; To learn from an artist whose work I respect in order to improve my own work. My motivation would not be to learn how to paint like the instructor, or to have a forum from which to demonstrate my own skills as a painter to the other artists (this may sound strange, but as an instructor, I've seen it). My motivation would be to immerse myself in learning, plain and simple.

If you decide you are going to take a workshop, take a moment to reflect on your motivation for doing so. If you're going to be teaching a workshop, maybe think about what approach will best serve your attending artists. I know I definitely am (lots of pressure).

Happy painting!

Moose Horn Gallery Show

2010-07-16T09:47:00.006-07:00

In just a little under a month, I'll be heading out to spend a week in the Yellowstone area painting and photographing, and just generally reveling in the splendor of one of my favorite locales. As an added point of celebration, my reason for going isn't just to exploit the outdoors for my own artistic gain, I'm also part of an upcoming show at the Moose Horn Gallery.

The Moose Horn Gallery (which has recently been representing my work), is holding a benefit show and sale for the Livingston Food Pantry’s Backpack Program. This program feeds 300 children every day during the school year. A percentage of the entire show sales, and proceeds from a silent auction, will be donated to The Livingston Food Pantry with matching funds donated by the Arthur Blank Foundation/Mountain Sky Guest Ranch Fund.

I will have six freshly completed paintings in the show. If you're in the area, please stop by and enjoy the great artwork and meet some of the gallery's artists — including myself.

The Benefit Show will be held on August, 20th through the 22nd. Moose Horn Gallery is located 18 miles south of Livingston, Montana off Hwy 89 South.

Oil Painting Workshop, October 2010

2010-07-05T08:20:00.007-07:00

In conjunction with the Gilbert Visual Art League, I will be conducting a weekend oil painting workshop October 22nd — 24th, 2010 in Gilbert, Arizona. The workshop will cover techniques for improving your paintings such as brushwork, using the palette knife, edges, composition, color, value and much, much more. All levels of painters are welcome and each attendee will receive personal instruction tailored to their particular skill level. On the final day of the workshop, attendees will be painting en plein air in the Superstition Mountains!

Space is limited to 15 attendees with a minimum of 8. The workshop fee is $125.00 and does not include materials and supplies. Sign-up deadline is October 15th, 2010. You may contact me at theartist@dustinvanwechel.com with questions or for information to reserve your place!

Click here to download the workshop schedule and materials list.

Art Tip #2: Want to Loosen Up?

2010-07-02T14:46:00.008-07:00

Do you often find yourself a slave to detail — filling in every tiny bit of information the image has to offer, leaving nothing for the viewer to interpret on their own? Do you often render yourself right out of your own work by creating great reproductions of photographs rather than your own artistic interpretation? Does this compulsion frustrate you? I used to have the same issue with my work and I found some fairly effective ways of helping me get past my compulsion to over-render.

Do At Least One Quick-Painting Exercise A Day
For example, take a small substrate, preferably no larger than 8"x10", and the largest brush you're comfortable with, and do a complete painting with no more than 25 strokes. Think carefully about each stroke before you apply it, making sure it will have the maximum effectiveness in communicating your subject.

Place A Table Between You And Your Easel
This will help keep you from getting too close to your painting and will also allow you to easily, and regularly, step back from your work and carefully consider the whole of the painting. Seeing the painting as a whole, rather than getting too focused on detailing a small area at a time, will help you to better judge what details are unnecessary and what information must be included. I use a 2'x4' table placed between me and my easel where my palette, painting supplies and materials are kept as I work.

Hold Your Brushes No Closer Than Halfway Down The Shaft
A brush should not be held like a pencil. Use the brush as an extension of your arm and flourish your wrist as you paint. Control may be difficult to obtain initially, but with practice, you'll likely find this manner of holding the brush provides just the right combination of control and freedom.

Squint To Soften Your Focus
Squinting while you observe your subject is an integral part of drawing and painting. It reduces the subject to its most basic forms of shape, value and color giving the artist a simpler basis from which to accurately depict his or her subject. But, squinting can also be used as a tool in limiting unnecessary details. So if you're prone to over-rendering, squint (or if you're practically blind like me, try painting without your glasses) and you'll be forced to only see the most dominate and pronounced details.

Paint From Life
Work from life as often as possible. Plein air painting, for example, is a great way to help you loosen up. It forces the artist to paint quickly and accurately, while also honing his or her ability to edit a scene and create dynamic compositions on the spot and under pressure.

About My Own Journey In ‘Loosening’ Up
When I first began trying to ‘loosen up’, and attempted these suggestions for myself, it was a tremendous blow to my fragile artist’s ego. These methods of painting were — and still are — the most difficult I’ve ever attempted as an artist. They made me realize how limited my skills as an artist were (especially the plein air painting). It was challenging (to say the least) to come to terms with my own shortcomings as an artist, when in the studio I felt as though I knew exactly what I was doing. The fact is, I didn’t. My understanding of painting was at best, narrow and I can’t stress enough to all of you reading this how liberating it eventually was to choose to confront my own ignorance and lack of skill and attempt to learn and grow as an artist. I hope those of you out there that would love to paint more loosely but feel it’s “just not the way you paint”, will give it a shot. Don't let the frustration that can come from attempting to better your work by utilizing methods you’re not comfortable with stop you from achieving what you want as an artist.

If anyone has any tricks they've used to help them loosen up, please post them! I’m always excited to try new methods in my journey to better my work.

Art Tip #1: Tips For Using Pre-Stretched Canvas

2010-06-03T08:41:00.008-07:00

I've decided to begin posting tips related to art, once a month. If anyone has anything to add regarding each tip's particular subject, please post a comment.

Tips For Using Pre-stretched Canvas.
For those of you — like me — that prefer to purchase your canvas pre-stretched rather than stretching your own (and if you're like me, it's because you're lazy), here are a few tips for preparing a canvas for paint...

1) Fixing a loose or sagging canvas.
This is an issue I often run into purchasing pre-stretched canvas. The canvas isn't stretched as tight as I'd prefer, or it's downright loose and wavy. To correct this problem, there are a number of "tricks" from which I often achieve good results.

The simplest way to tighten a pre-stretched canvas is to shrink it. First I place the canvas on my easel with the back of the canvas facing me. I then use a spray bottle filled with warm water to evenly mist the back of the canvas. The key here is to only dampen the canvas, not soak it. Once I've finished misting, I immediately begin drying the canvas with a hair drier. When the canvas is dry, I check to see if it's as tight as I like and to make sure there are no longer any wrinkles or waves in the canvas. If there are, I repeat the process. You can also "spot-shrink" the canvas. If you find the canvas is overall as tight as you'd like, but there is a wave near a corner, you can mist only the wave or wrinkled area and dry with a hair drier.

The next solution for tightening a loose canvas is to use canvas keys (or tightening keys). Have you ever wondered what those little wedges of wood or plastic are that came with your pre-stretched canvas? Well, now you know. Most manufactures of pre-stretched canvas do include canvas keys (especially with larger canvas).

To tighten the canvas, you simply insert a key into each slot located in the corners of the stretcher bars then lightly tap them into place until the canvas is taught. It doesn't take too much force, and you'll want to be careful not to split the wood of the stretcher bars. I've found canvas keys
especially useful for larger paintings that have been hanging for several years and have relaxed over time.

2) Toning a pre-stretched canvas
Toning a canvas is most often an artistic choice for the artist. Its main purpose is to provide an underlying color that helps unify the completed painting. But here I suggest toning for its practical benefits.

I typically tone my canvas using either a neutral color (like gray), or as is most often the case, a sepia tone (mixed using burnt sienna and ultramarine). I thin the mixture to an ink-like consistency. Liquin is the medium I use to thin the paint — and this is the key. Using Liquin (which is an alkyd resin) serves two main purposes, first it creates an extremely durable ground on which to apply your paint. And second, its slightly slick finish increases paint adherence giving your paint better covering power.

Unlike thinning paint using a solvent such as mineral spirits or turpentine (or any painting medium that includes a solvent), which serve to breakdown the paint's ability to bind with the surface, Liquin dramatically increases the paint's binding power.

Note: Although Liquin is a great choice for thinning paint for toning a canvas, increasing drying time or increasing paint flow, absolutely do not use it to varnish a painting. Using Liquin as a varnish may look great, but the purpose of varnish is to place a protective, REMOVABLE layer over the paint. Liquin is not removable and it doesn’t allow the paint to breath. There currently are no known solvents that can safely remove Liquin from a painting’s surface.

I hope you found my first ‘Tips’ entry useful.

Happy painting!

Materials: Stop Being Cheap

2010-06-01T16:57:00.005-07:00

I know where you're coming from, I've been there (still am, actually). I understand professional, quality materials can be expensive. I used to be cheap too, but I can assure you, if you're cheap with your materials, you will struggle with them. Guaranteed.

I've taught a number of oil painting workshops in my relatively short career and invariably there are always a few attendees who forego the materials list and bring their box of 30-year-old paints (of every imaginable obscure color and brand), worn-out brushes and less than adequate substrates. They then spend a good portion of the workshop frustrated and fighting with their supplies, constantly remarking on how they "just can't do it!". When I explain to them the importance of quality materials, they give me the usual, "they're too expensive" or "but I need to use up my old stuff first", etc., etc., etc. Blah, blah, blah.

Bullpuckie.

This is a very simple piece of advice: If you wish to do professional-quality work, you MUST use professional-quality materials. Period.

So what is the starving artist, retired-hobbiest-on-a-fixed-income or frugal-extremist to do? Here are a couple of suggestions...

1st) Don't purchase your supplies from a physical store in your area. They are nearly always more expensive than their online counterparts, and additionally, you'll pay sales tax in most cases. Instead, purchase supplies online via a reputable retailer. For us oil painters, I've found that oil paints in particular are as much as 60 percent less through an online retailer versus the local art supply store near my home. For example, cadmium colors in professional-brand oil paints are expensive. My local art store charges about $35 for a 40ml tube of Holbein's cadmium yellow. Add in sales tax and I leave the store roughly $38 poorer (and a little bit angrier). This exact same tube of paint is around $19 through several online stores and I don't have to pay sales tax. Additionally, I often receive email coupons for more discounts and free shipping. Shop around online before heading to your local art materials supplier.

2nd) There are art supplies out there that are of professional quality, but have student-grade pricing. With oil paints, I can recommend Maimeri Classico Oils. They contain no fillers or waxes and have a high level of pigment. That's really the key when it comes to selecting professional-quality oil paints — no fillers and high quantities of pigment. The advice here is read the labels, do a little research and you'll likely find less expensive alternatives without sacrificing quality.

Note: Often specific colors are priced differently from brand to brand. A cobalt blue might be less expensive in one brand than another, but is of the same quality. So mix and match if you like. You might also find you prefer the performance of certain colors by certain brands over other brands — and save a few bucks as well.

Here are just some of the online retailers I purchase my materials through. If you know of others, please post them! We artists are always looking for better prices on our materials!

http://www.dickblick.com
http://www.dixieart.com
http://www.jerrysartarama.com
http://www.aswexpress.com
http://www.pearlpaint.com

My National Museum of Wildlife Art's 'Western Visions' Entry

2010-05-20T10:59:00.011-07:00

"Single Parent", Oil on Linen

I'm honored to be invited to participate in this year's Western Visions show (now my 5th year). The collection of top contemporary artists and their respective works included in this show are extraordinary. I recommend any art lover see this show if you happen to be in the Jackson Hole, Wyoming area in mid-September.

My painting for Western Visions is titled "Single Parent" and is a 9"x12" oil on linen. Hope you all enjoy it!

"Single Parent", Detail 1

"Single Parent", Detail 2

Getting Out Of Your Comfort Zone

2010-03-17T10:32:00.004-07:00

At a show I recently participated in, an artist friend of mine discussed with me how she was venturing into uncharted waters and beginning to work with oils. The medium was a mystery to her as she'd spent the last couple of decades working with acrylics. In her case, her reasons for abandoning her comfort zone were very familiar to me; wanting to grow as an artist, needing to feel inspired by her medium...again, needing to be reinvigorated by the excitement that comes from the process of learning. I'm sure there were also other reasons, but we didn't get too much into those. She was passionate in the way she spoke about her new direction and her passion inspired me to think about what it means to muster the courage to try new things.

It's very easy to say (and somewhat of a cliché) that we as artists — well actually, we as human beings — should whenever possible, make an effort to leave our comfort zones. But the reality is that it can be very difficult, both emotionally and practically, to deviate from what we know and experience what we don't know. We often find excuses as to why we can't or shouldn't attempt to do, or experience, something new. These excuses are often nothing more than our fear talking. Fear of failure, fear of unintended consequences, fear of judgment — you name it and fear will make an excuse for it. But if we could step back and look at those who have overcome fear, we'd find how often success favors the bold.

Unfortunately, there are also other forces at work we artists must face that can hinder our desire to break new ground — namely art buyers. Just as we may be afraid of trying something new, so are art buyers. Those that are comfortable with you as an artist, may not be so if you decide to move in a different direction. They will only let you get away with so much "artistic exploration" before writing you off as an artist who hasn't yet decided who they are artistically. This financial pressure can be as debilitating as fear and it's understandable why there are many artists that seem to stagnate in their work.

But there really should be no excuse. Evolving as an artist (and a person) through new experiences is not about short-term rewards, but rather, long-term growth and betterment.

Looking at those that had the courage to accept financial risk and overcome a myriad of fears in their pursuit of artistic fulfillment, you will immediately discover a long list of artists that not only produced better work, but saw more financial success as well. A very long list.

If you feel bored with your medium, or if your work no longer excites you every time you start your day, then maybe it's time to delve into the unknown. Maybe it's time to try something new. No fear. No expectations other than to learn and grow. Remember, success favors the bold so stop making excuses and try something new...anything new.

Dealing With "The Blahs"

2010-03-10T07:05:00.008-07:00

“The Blahs" was a term I first read about in Edward Aldrich's book, Drawing and Painting Animals. In his book, he discusses an onset lack of motivation for completing a painting — caused by any number of factors — and terms this loss of enthusiasm, "The Blahs".

This generous confession regarding his difficulties as a painter really struck a cord with me because The Blahs is something I’ve experienced many, many times. In fact, I would say I get The Blahs with probably 80 percent of the paintings I complete.

This feeling seems to most often occur when I'm working on a painting and reach roughly the midway point where things are either moving very slowly and I'm struggling to maintain focus, or when the painting just doesn't seem to be going the way I intended. I then begin to feel like the painting is a loss — that it's just a steaming pile of art doodie. I feel like I'll never get it to come around and begin to consider scraping the painting and moving on to something new where my enthusiasm hasn't yet been tainted by being confronted with my limitations as a painter.

It can be difficult to push through The Blahs.

Far more often than not, The Blahs are just a cruel trick of my insecure artist mind and not a symptom of a poorly executed painting. It's easy to get bored with a painting. It's easy to loose focus when I am consumed by the sometimes tedious nature of developing a work. This boredom can lead to me being prematurely critical of my uncompleted painting. It can also be used as an excuse to start something new (so I can again feel the warm and fuzzy feelings that come with an idea and a blank canvas) and abandon the work before it’s truly realized.

As I’ve aged a bit, I’ve found there are ways to lessen the effects of The Blahs. First, I understand that when they occur, it's time for a break. I relax. Get out. Move around. I maybe have some lunch or walk Brutus (my Boston terrier and trusted studio companion). I can then come back to the painting refocused and with fresh eyes. Second, I sometimes work on more than one painting at a time. When I find myself becoming bored with a painting, I can switch to another. And finally, I know and acknowledge that I’ve felt like this before and have made it through — if sometimes just barely. This understanding is often just enough to help me refocus, take a breath, step back and figure out what needs to be done. It’s amazing how when I manage to not let The Blahs get the best of me, how quickly my excitement for the painting returns.

If you sometimes get a bad case of The Blahs, remember that you’re not alone. Just take a moment to refocus (however you do that is up to you) and return with a renewed sense of purpose — to make the painting work, to push through those parts you find boring, and to give the painting an opportunity to be great. In the end, I suspect you’ll find as I have, that sometimes the paintings that come hard are the ones that teach us the most and are often the most successful.

We're Artists, Not Hermits

2010-03-02T20:00:00.002-07:00

Isolated.

That's often the word that comes to mind when I think of my existence as an artist. My day typically consists of waking up, working out, eating breakfast, sending my wife off to work with a kiss and a goodbye, then either working on painting concepts or the paintings themselves until she returns in the evening. Day in and day out.

It was while staying with 5 other artists in Charleston, SC for the Southeastern Wildlife Expo that I was reminded of the importance of interacting with my peers. The shared camaraderie, the trading of ideas and experiences, the insights, critiques, and simply enjoying the friendships founded on our common interest in all things art. This was something I hadn't had the pleasure of truly experiencing since my time in the art department of the last advertising agency I worked for before I took the plunge and went full-time as a fine artist. And I found I miss it — tremendously.

This is why I've decided to no longer be a hermit. I will no longer be content to hide in the bubble of my studio. It's time to venture out. It's time to join a local artists' group, or attend open studio sessions for drawing or painting — anything really. It's time to make an effort to get out and get together with other artists. It's time to do what I can to connect with other artists and play a part in a group interested in bettering their work and growing as artists.

I encourage any of you artists out there who are "artist hermits" to do the same. Don't be content with isolation. Venture out and connect.

Getting Into Shows And Galleries

2010-02-22T13:02:00.014-07:00

Artists attempting to make the leap from part-time artist to full-time artist often ask me how they should go about getting into good galleries and shows. I usually just look at them blankly and ask; "What are those?". Just kidding of course.

When it comes to getting into the shows and galleries you feel your work would be successful in, I suggest the following:

For Shows:
1) Do Your Research
Make sure your work is appropriate for the show of which you'd like to exhibit. Also, be certain the show you're applying to is practical for you to do. For example, if you can't afford the expense involved in traveling to a show across the country, begin by submitting to local or regional shows. And finally, make sure to try and attend the shows you're interested in participating. You may find that a show which looks good on paper might not be what you envisioned upon seeing it first-hand.

2) Follow The Submission Guidelines To The Letter
Nothing will get you rejected from a show faster than not following the rules for submission. For example, if they require your submission be digital and on CD, don't send slides or photographic prints of your work! Don't eliminate yourself from consideration before anyone sees your work simply because you fudged on the rules.

3) Make Sure Images Of Your Work Are Professional
Remember that the images you submit are meant to represent your work in the most accurate way possible. Poor quality images, or images that don't accurately represent your work, are sure to lead to you being eliminated from consideration.

4) Keep Applying
Just because you are rejected from a show one year does not mean you will be rejected the following year. Keep submitting — over and over. The more you continue to apply for a show, the more likely it is you'll eventually be invited to participate.

For Galleries:
1) Again, Do Your Research
Don't apply to a gallery just because you think they're a "nice gallery". First, visit the gallery you're interested in. Ask yourself a few questions; "Is the work here as good and/or better than mine?". The artwork (in your estimation) should be at least as good as yours, and hopefully, better than yours. Being in a gallery that carries work you consider as good as — or better than — your work will not only help motivate you to produce better work, but also lends credibility to your art through association. Collectors, art publication editors, show organizers and other gallery curators are more likely to hold your work in higher regard if your work is exhibited among other great work. Ask yourself; "Would my work fit in this gallery?" For example, one scenario is to find a respected gallery where your work is similar to the work they carry but fills a niche in the way of style that the gallery might be missing. And finally, ask yourself; "Is the work in this gallery being well cared for and displayed in a professional manner?". Try to notice if the gallery is overcrowding the walls with art. Are there too many paintings just leaning against walls? Are they hanging work in bathrooms? These can all be signs that the gallery doesn't value its artists the way you may believe they should. Finally, talk with artists that show or have shown with the gallery you're interested in. Ask them for their experiences in working with the gallery. For example, ask if the gallery pays in a timely, professional manner. Ask if the gallery treated the artist more like a colleague or were they treated more like a vendor? Was the gallery proactive in selling the artist's work?

2) Try To Not Send Slides
Most successful galleries receive numerous slide and digital image submissions. Your work is likely to get lost in the mountains of other artists submitting. My personal belief is that the best way to give yourself the greatest opportunity in starting a relationship with a gallery is to do the following:

A. Find out who is responsible for reviewing perspective artist's work — and that they have decision-making power — and contact them personally.

B. Call and make an appointment with this person to review at least 5 of your best original works (make sure they are framed and ready for hanging). The approach here is not to solicit the gallery to represent you, but rather, ask them to look at your work and give their professional opinion of it. If in this process the gallery likes your work and feels it would be a good fit, you won't have to ask them to represent you, they will ask you (and the paintings you've shown had better be available for them to hang!). Because many galleries have seasons, make sure to approach them for their opinion when they are most likely to have the time to give it. Trying to make appointments with a curator when he or she is in the middle of their busiest season will probably not be favorable for you.

C. Make sure to send them a formal thank you for seeing you and reviewing your work.

3) If You Must Send Slides...
Make sure they are getting to the individual most likely to have the time and the decision-making power to pick up new artists. Just sending your slides to the front desk attendant may not be the best way to have your work considered.

4) If A Gallery Is Interested In Representing You...
Make sure to carefully review all of their business practices (i.e.: consignment agreements, commission structure, payment terms, etc.) before signing anything. There are too many horror stories out there regarding shady business practices by galleries. And although most galleries are honorable and operate in a professional manner, it's very important you do what you can to protect you and your work.

I hope some of these suggestions help you to better navigate the process of being invited to participate in your favorite shows and be represented by reputable galleries. If anyone has anything to add, or additional thoughts on the matter, please post a comment.

2009: My Year In Review

2009-12-22T14:34:00.005-07:00

2009 was a good but sometimes difficult year for me (as most are).

It began in the midst of the greatest recession America has seen since the Great Depression and I was wary of how it might affect art buyers and their ability to purchase new work. As it turned out, the shows — at least for me — went well and I not only sold paintings to previous buyers of my work, but I managed to pick up a few new collectors as well.

By the time summer rolled around, the recession seemed to be easing up a bit and I was still selling work through galleries and directly from my studio. This turned out to be a true blessing because at the end of August, my wife was laid off from her job.

Like many artists out there in the early stages of their career, my income isn't as consistent as it needs to be to survive as a single-income household, so the loss of my wife's job brought much stress and fear about how we would manage financially. Thankfully, my sales continued and we really didn't experience any financial difficulties from her no longer working.

We did however, have to miss out on some painting trips we'd planned (and were very much looking forward to), including missing the Western Visions Show at the National Museum of Wildlife Art in Jackson, Wyoming. A consolation trip to Rocky Mountain National Park for a week at the end of September helped ease our disappointment a bit — and I did pick up some nice reference material. If everything goes well, we’ll reschedule those trips for the coming year.

A few of the highlights from this year included conducting an oil painting workshop in Nebraska, speaking in front of the Gilbert Visual Arts League (a local art group here in Gilbert, AZ) as well as judging their annual art show. And, being invited to participate in a show in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I had tried to get into NatureWorks several times before and had previously been denied. I’m really excited about attending this show but it has definitely added to my workload. So goes the difficult life of an artist.

Since the trip in September, I've been working hard at producing new paintings for the coming show season and to replace older work in galleries. My wife is still out of work, but it looks like that will be ending with the start of the new year — she's very excited.

All-in-all the year was productive, rewarding and sometimes stressful. But to tell you the truth, I wouldn't have changed a thing. Although I'm sure my wife would have preferred to remain employed, I've really enjoyed having her around with me all day even if it meant she came down with a touch of cabin fever.

Paint What Inspires You And Success Will Follow

2009-12-06T09:55:00.006-07:00

One might think that painting what inspires you as an artist is a universal truth — that this is what motivates all artists. You'd be wrong.

In my years working as a full-time fine artist, I have been surprised by the number of artists I've met who think of their work in terms of product. They paint for "the market". The subject matter they paint, or draw, or sculpt is directed by their perception of art buying trends and interestingly, not a single one of the artists I've met who approach their work in this way have seen much success artistically or financially.

Painting for the market is a term you might hear on occasion and I see it often at some of the shows I attend. For example, an artist sees that another artist's western landscapes sold very well at a particular show, and the following year that artist brings a bunch of western landscapes — only to sell very few, or often not sell a single one.

This way of thinking about art (at least from an artist's perspective) is flawed. Being an artist and selling well is most often a long process of finding what it is that inspires you to paint and painting countless hours to develop your identity as an artist, while slowly gaining a following of loyal collectors. These are collectors who not only buy your work because they enjoy the subject matter, but because they connect with your work on an emotional level and appreciate you as an artist. It is through the relationships of an artist's collectors that the artist will find long-term success and these relationships can't be cultivated if the artist isn't true to what inspires them. Savvy art collectors are very good about noticing the subtleties that communicate an artist's intentions in their work; did the artist paint this subject because it inspired them, or did they paint it because they thought it would sell?

I paint western landscapes and wildlife because it's what I love. My paintings are romanticized versions of my experiences in the outdoors. I grew up in the west. My subjects are ones I'm intimately familiar with and I paint them because they inspire me. Fundamentally, I am a painter and I would be painting regardless of whether or not I could make a living doing it. I simply must paint. My subject matter is what I love to paint. I hope this comes through in my work and that people who enjoy my work can see this. I'm not concerned with financial success as much as I am artistic success (growing as an artist, and eventually producing work that moves myself and others). In the end, I believe that by staying true to what inspires me as an artist, success will eventually follow — both artistically and financially.

More New Work

2009-11-19T10:42:00.003-07:00

This small bison painting (12"x10") is one of several pieces I've just completed and am working on completing. This painting, and all of the new work I'll be finishing on over the coming months, will be posted to my web site...soon.

Lofty Heights

2009-11-11T09:47:00.002-07:00

"Lofty Heights" is the title of my latest painting. It's basically finished but I will set it aside for a few weeks and then come back to it with fresh eyes and see if I feel it needs any adjustments.

The Crutch Of Photographic Reference

2009-10-26T09:25:00.012-07:00

Representational artists today are fortunate to have such an extraordinary tool to use in creating works of art — the photograph. But for every benefit photography provides, it also yields great drawbacks. These include simple problems like inaccurate color representation, poor reproduction of values (especially in bright light) and photographic distortion — all of which are easily handled by the well-trained artist. But there are a few issues with using photographic reference that go much deeper than simply having to adjust a color here or a value there. Photo reference can make you lazy. Really lazy.

First, it's simply easier to reproduce a photo than it is to work directly from life. The reason is that the mind has to do much less work when taking a two-dimensional image (a photograph) and reproduce it again, two-dimensionally, on paper or canvas. In contrast, the mind has to work hard to convert three-dimensional reality onto a two-dimensional plain and still achieve the illusion of three-dimensional form. The conversion that has to occur when working from life and placing what you see through direct observation onto a two-dimensional plain like paper or canvas is an exceptionally complex skill that can take many, many years to perfect. It’s also a skill an artist must polish if he or she is to accurately correct those simpler problems like photographic distortion and exaggerated atmospheric depth inherent to reference photographs.

The second, and in my view most sinister problem with using photographic reference, is it can make the artist lazy in the way of concept. Working from photographic reference, especially for those artists that work with subject matter that requires the use of the camera (like us wildlife artists), one can easily be seduced into simply reproducing a good photo. So rather than developing a concept for a painting, then looking to one’s photo reference library to help one realize one’s concept, the artist simply looks for a photo that would make a good painting.

Does this mean that directly copying a photo is always lazy...no. I have seen many artists whose personal style is so unique that it would be difficult to even recognize the photographic reference they used. Also, in the case of doing portraits, photographic reference may be the only means of capturing a likeness, such as when working with young children. But for many artists, the photo can become a crutch for laggard conceptualizing — photographic reference’s most artistically corrosive drawback in my view. The artist must avoid becoming a slave to his or her photographs.

With this in mind, I’ve decided to post how it is I often work using photographic reference. My painting titled “Date Night” makes a fair example:

I began with the idea of creating a nocturne painting with moose as the subject. I did several sketches that served to nail down the composition. I then went to my photo reference library to find images I could use to realize my concept. In the end, I used four different images to help me complete the painting.

I first located the subject of my painting. In the case of these reference photos, they are reversed from the actual painting. If I'm really adamant about a painting's direction being a certain way—as was the case with "Date Night"— I'll draw everything in reverse from my reference (it also makes for a challenging drawing exercise).

I used this bull moose for the cow in my painting. A few minor anatomical changes and poof! Female moose.

This was my reference for the marsh and grasses. I often use reference like this photo as just a guide. You'll notice the actual grass in the painting is laid out much differently.

And finally, I used this image for creating the tree and background mountains.

You may have noticed I had no reference for creating the nocturne itself. For this I looked to how other artists had handled painting night scenes and essentially flew by the seat of my pants (this is the first nocturne I've ever painted).

In locating images for use as reference, I try to keep a few things in mind...

1) Light sources.
I make sure the light source at least loosely matches from photo to photo.

2) Environment.
When building a painting where the environment will play an important roll, I try to make sure all of the reference I utilize is from the same geographic area. As an example, I don't want to be putting plants in a painting that wouldn't exist in that environment.

3) Integrity of the Concept.
I try to remember not to let the reference change the concept — which it can sometimes do if you're not careful.

Remember that it's called photographic reference for a reason. And most importantly, never let your photos limit your ideas.

Questions? See FAQ

2009-10-12T11:18:00.010-07:00

I thought I'd take a moment to address several of the most commonly asked questions I get from artists and art enthusiasts regarding me and my work.

1. How long does it take you to complete a painting? (Boy, if I just had a nickel...)
Answer: Seldom am I actually able to give an accurate number to anyone that asks this question. Every painting is different. To quote Norman Rockwell, "Some come easy, some come hard." Also, a bulk of the time it takes to create a painting lies in developing a concept for it. If you began counting the minutes from the point I started working on an idea for a painting, to the finished work, several months may have passed. But, if you really must have an answer — addressing strictly the actual application of paint to canvas part of the process — it can take anywhere from a few hours for a very small painting, to a couple of weeks for a large work.

2. What paints, brushes and canvas do you use?
Answer: For a while I bounced back and forth between Windsor & Newton Artist Oil Colors and Holbien. I've now settled on Holbien. The reason being that of all of the brands of paints I've used, Holbien's quality is the most consistent out of the tube. There's never a teaspoon of oil expelled upon first squeezing a tube and their high level of pigmentation is very consistent. As for brushes, I use Windsor and Newton Lexington Series bristle flats. I've now switched to using linen canvas. The brands I'm currently using are a combination of linen panels made by SourceTek (Claessens #66) and stretched linen canvas (Centurion LX brand).

3. How do you price your artwork?
Pricing can be tricky at first. Some artists price paintings based on how they feel about them. Others take a more traditional and structured 'retail' approach. I suppose I'm somewhere in between but lean more towards 'traditional retail approach'. I've arrived at my pricing by comparing my work with other artists that I feel are of equal skill and work with similar subject matter, as well as artists that have been working professionally for about as long as I have. Doing this provided me a good baseline from which to price my own work. As one looks at my prices, they'll notice that smaller pieces, per square inch, are more expensive than larger pieces — the paintings become less expensive per square inch as they get larger. I keep all common sizes at the same price level. For example, you can expect to pay the same price for any of my paintings that are 11" x 14" — regardless of subject, time it took to complete, or how I feel about the piece. The only real fluctuation in the price would be influenced by the framing, but the base price for any particular size painting remains constant. Basically, I come up with the price, then add the cost of framing.

4. Who are your favorite artists?
Answer: That changes often. But here are some that have always stayed at the top of my list... Living: Bill Anton, Jeremy Lipking, Clyde Aspevig, Matt Smith, Mian Situ, Kathryn Stats, Scott Burdick & Susan Lyon, James Reynolds (to name just a few). Deceased: John Singer Sargent, Anders Zorn, Edger Payne, Carl Rungius, Frank Tenney Johnson (again, that's just some).

5. How tall are you?
6' 6"

If anyone would like me to add to the FAQ, just let me know.

The Magic Of Talent And The Reality Of Hard Work

2009-10-05T12:50:00.008-07:00

I am sometimes confronted with the very well-meaning art observer who compliments me on my “great talent”. On the one hand, at its heart this is a sincere acknowledgement of appreciation for my work. It is meant as no more than a heart-felt compliment and I shouldn’t take it any other way. But on the other hand, I also find it to be a dismissal of the reality of being an artist. Let me explain...

The creation of art (and especially representational art) is somewhat of a mystery to those that feel their artistic faculties only allow them to appreciate art rather than create it. In many ways, this mystery is good for business. It effectively elevates the artist to a position of admiration which often translates into better sales. But the mystery of talent, to a large extent, can be revealed as simple determination, dedication and in the end, consistent hard work.

I fully understand that no matter the endeavor, there are those of us that will excel at any particular chosen task more so than others. Everything, from the environment in which we are raised, to the people we encounter along the way, right down to our DNA, will have a tremendous impact on how we excel at certain tasks. One need only look to athletics to see how the individual’s performance is influenced by these kinds of variables. But as with any undertaking, the effect of those variables must be tempered with perseverance and hard work. And there are few other categories in which this is truer than in art — and more specifically, representational painting.

I’ve spent my entire life drawing and painting. I am constantly trying to refine and better my skills as an artist, both fundamentally and stylistically. It’s tireless, frustrating, difficult work and I do it nearly every day of my life. My dedication to being better at what I truly love to do has gifted me tangible results. I can look back on my previous work and see great changes for the better. I can see dramatic improvements in all aspects of my work — improvements that are obvious when I look back even just a few years. In other words, I didn’t spring from the womb being able to draw and paint. In fact, I would argue that anyone could learn to draw and paint realistically. Essentially, it comes down to simple eye-hand coordination and there are a set of very effective techniques and principles one can learn that will help them to achieve that end. I can think of a couple artists who I have personally observed go from 8th grade-level competency in drawing, to truly professional quality, and their betterment can easily be explained by their dedication to constantly practicing — not by supernatural forces.

It isn’t in a person’s technical ability to recreate on paper or canvas what they see that I consider talent. And, since one’s style (and the public’s appreciation for it) is a relatively subjective thing in art, talent can’t necessarily be gauged by personal style alone. If talent in art truly exists, it can be found in the artist’s level of commitment to bettering themselves as an artist, and maybe more importantly, in their love of creating art.

Don’t let your (or anyone else's) preconceived notions about “talent” stand in the way of you becoming a better artist.

Rocky Mountain National Park 2009

2009-09-28T10:17:00.032-07:00

I've returned. And although I wasn't able to do everything I’d hoped, I still had an exciting (and productive) time and I'm itching to begin new work. I miss the mountains already.

Day 1: Traveling
The car was loaded. All systems were go. My wife and I left Phoenix, Arizona for the mountains of Colorado at 6:30am — bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (well maybe not bushy-tailed).

Yvonne enjoying the ride

This 12 1/2 hour trek to our first destination, Georgetown, CO, is one of the most extraordinarily scenic drives I've ever been on. It took us through the deserts of Arizona,

The desert just north of Phoenix, Arizona

through Monument Valley and Moab, Utah and finally into the heart of the Colorado Rocky Mountains — all in a long day's drive.

Just outside of Monument Valley

I stopped along the way to take a few photographs of an antelope, and some of the landscape we traveled through.

This was the location Yvonne and I spotted the antelope

We arrived in Georgetown, CO at about 7:30pm local time. Georgetown is just a short drive from our first stop, Mt. Evans. The plan was to rise early and get to Mt. Evans to photograph mountain goats and bighorn sheep, and do a little plein air painting...that was the plan anyway.

Day 2: Disappointment
We awoke to rain and a rather disappointing weather forecast. A cold front had moved through Colorado in the night and an associated low-pressure system had stalled over western Nebraska. The forecast had changed from sunny skies for the duration of my trip just two days before, to clouds, rain and snow for the next three days. Bummer.

My wife and I still attempted to go up Mt. Evans, but the heavy fog and slick conditions forced us to turn back just a couple miles into the drive. We decided we would head to Rocky Mountain National Park and return to Mt. Evans later in the trip once the weather had cleared. The next day it was announced that the road up Mt. Evans had been closed for the winter. Again...bummer.

One of the many bull elk we saw that day

Luckily, there were late afternoon breaks in the clouds and I was able to photograph elk in RMNP. I was still disappointed about the idea of losing three days of painting and photographing but I felt a little better knowing the sun may make a few appearances over the next several days.

Day 3: Things Go From Disappointing To Very Disappointing
We spent the night with my wife’s cousins in Greeley, CO (about an hour east of RMNP). Again, we awoke to rain. Only now the forecast was calling for as much as 16” of snow in the mountains. A winter storm warning had been issued, blizzard conditions were expected and I was beginning to think we may not be able to enter RMNP the next day. We did spend the day in the park. I photographed more elk, but the poor light and off-again, on-again rain and snow kept me from painting.

Later that afternoon, Yvonne’s bother and sister-in-law arrived from Nebraska to join us for a few days. We had a nice dinner and fully expected to be snowed in the next morning.

I finally had some time to look through the photos I’d taken. It was then I realized that the image stabilizer on my lens was off and many of the images I’d thus far shot were blurry, some too blurry to be used as reference. Again...bummer.

Day 4: Things Begin Looking...Better

My wife's brother, Rick and his wife, Mary enjoying the hike around Bear Lake

Not a single flake had fallen overnight (at least not in the lower elevations of the park). I woke up early and headed out to RMNP by myself. There wasn’t much happening and the poor light conditions kept me from taking too many photographs. I returned to the hotel in Estes just as everyone was waking. Once all were up, showered and dressed, we spent a couple hours driving through the park and hiking around Bear Lake.

Rick, Yvonne and myself

We had a late lunch and returned to the park to take some evening photographs as the sun did manage to peek through the clouds on occasion. Although I didn’t paint at all, or photograph as much as I’d liked to, it was enjoyable spending the time with family and that certainly helped to alleviate some of my disappointment in the weather.

Day 5: Weather Begins To Clear, But There’s Another Small Problem...

The view from the location I painted in Beaver Meadows

I decided I was going to paint rain or shine. I left early in the morning and set up my easel in a very nice location in Beaver Meadows. Cloudy skies prevailed again this morning, but it was atmospheric and the subtle shifts in value made for a challenging plein air painting session. As a side note, while I was getting my painting gear from the car, a curious coyote walked up behind me. I didn’t notice until a photographer told me to turn around. The coyote was standing about 5 feet from me. We looked at each other, he decided I wasn’t going to offer a treat as I’m sure many of the Park’s visitors do, and he went on his merry way.

My completed painting

The painting went relatively smoothly, and I was even joined by another painter who was far more ambitious than I — he set up to paint what had to be at least an 18"x 24" canvas.

After finishing the painting, I began to notice a problem...I was developing a cold.

I returned to the hotel in Estes and once we'd finished eating a late breakfast, the skies began to clear. We toured the park again, I photographed more elk, and we hiked to Dream Lake where I decided to paint. It was there I was reminded of how quickly conditions can change in the mountains. During the course of my painting, it rained, snowed, cleared to sunny skies, and then snowed again. Needless to say, I gave up on the painting, but definitely enjoyed the fun in trying to complete it in such fickle weather.

Dream Lake — sunny

Dream Lake — snowy ( just about 15 minutes between photos)

By that evening, my cold was in full swing. Sore throat, runny nose, congestion, the works.

Day 6: Great Weather, Bad Cold
My wife’s brother and sister-in-law left early. Yvonne and I spent the morning packing up our goods and loading the car as we intended on returning to Greeley that evening to stay with her cousins again. After checking out of the hotel, we entered RMNP once again to photograph and paint.

It was during the early photographing that I ran into fellow artist, Sonya Reid who appeared to be enjoying the elk, as so many were. The good weather had brought in many more visitors and there were “elk jams” on every road in the park.

My completed painting from Storm Pass trailhead

I felt it was a good time to find a secluded spot and do some painting again. Yvonne and I stopped at the Storm Pass trailhead, I set up to paint, and she hiked to Bierstadt Lake.

The view from the trail leading to Bierstadt Lake, courtesy of Yvonne

We spent the evening watching and photographing the elk, and by this time, Yvonne had also developed a cold. When we left the park that evening, we decided we would begin the long drive home — cutting our trip short by two days. With both of us suffering from colds, and there being no opportunity to drive up Mt. Evans, I felt that I had what I needed to start some new work so leaving early and splitting up the long drive into two days sounded better than dealing with the crowds and trying to hike while sick. We both really just wanted to be back in our own bed.

Day 7: The Return Home
We had spent 4 hours on the road the previous night, stayed in a hotel just a bit outside of Grand Junction, Colorado and slept in before attacking the final leg of our drive back to Gilbert, Arizona. We didn’t stop but for gas and bathroom breaks. It was really nice to be back in our own bed that night. My cold got better just thinking about it.

All-in-all, and as surprising as it may seem, we both had a great time. I did get a lot of useful reference material and I’m excited to begin formulating new paintings. In fact, I think I’ll start right now.

Time For A Recharge

2009-09-07T17:57:00.005-07:00

My "artist batteries" are running on low. I've got the twitch. You know, that involuntary twitch we artists get when we've been out of direct contact with what inspires us for too long. My wife has forbade me from handling cutlery until the twitch has been settled — my batteries recharged.

For me, this means returning to the high places of the Rocky Mountains — painting en plein air, photographing, hiking and basically immersing myself in all that the mountains of the west have to offer. The Rockies are my muse, my inspiration. They are what move me to paint.

In just short of two weeks, I will leave the heat of the desert southwest and head to Rocky Mountain National Park to spend a week doing exactly what I need to do to fill my artistic reservoir... once again. And although this particular trip is somewhat of a consolation prize (my wife and I were going to spend two weeks in Glacier NP and the Grand Tetons until she was laid off from her job just a few weeks ago), I am no less excited to get out and get inspired.

I will be sure to post some of the highlights from this trip when I return.

Artist Turned Carpenter

2009-07-25T11:19:00.016-07:00

Well, that's probably a stretch. But for the first time in my career, I built a crate for shipping a painting. In fact, I built two crates. These two crates will be used to ship my painting and drawing to the NMWA in Jackson, WY for the Western Visions Show & Sale.

Typically, I use Strongbox Art Shippers to send my paintings, but this year the museum was very adamant that participating artists ship their work in crates. I'm not one to argue, so what the museum wants, the museum gets.

Since this was my first time building art crates, I did a wee bit of research and made sure to enlist my dad for not only his extensive reservoir of tools, but also his help in constructing the crates.

Note to self: Make sure to build crates before the middle of summer. It was 114° F the day we built the crates in my dad's garage — with no air conditioning.

Although building the crates certainly took some time (about two hours), it cost less than purchasing the two Strongboxes I would have needed; about $20 less. Here's a list of the supplies I picked up at my local Home Depot and Jo-Ann Fabrics & Crafts:

2 8ft lengths of 1x4" pine boards
1 4x8' sheet of 1/8" luan mahogany (door skin)
1 box of 1 1/4" gold screws
2 cabinet handles
2 24x60x1" foam sheets (these I purchased at Jo-Ann Fabrics)

The finished art crates measure 23x20x3 1/2" interior dimensions. This allowed for about 2" of foam all the way around the framed painting and drawing.

After cutting all of the boards and luan panels to the sizes I needed, it was just a simple matter of assembling them. We (my dad and I) started by joining two 1x4" boards (a 24 1/2" length and a 20" length) by putting two screws in the corner joint. We repeated this until the entire frame was assembled. We then cut triangles out of the scrap laun panel to place in each corner of the crate for added durability and strength and then screwed all of the triangles and a 24 1/2 x 21 1/2" luan panel to one side of the wood frame. Finally, we added a cabinet handle to the top of each crate.

I then cut 6 pieces of 23x20x1" foam sheets — 3 for each crate. I laid a single foam sheet into each crate then cut a hole in the two middle sheets to match the exact exterior dimensions of the frame for both the painting and the drawing. I then laid these pieces of foam into each crate and placed the painting and drawing into their respective crates directly into the hole cut in the center of the foam. The final sheets of foam went on top and then I placed the final laun panels and corner triangles on the crates and screwed them down.

Once I'd completely assembled the crates with the painting and drawing inside, I stenciled my last name and the words "fragile" and "up" with an arrow to the crates. I placed Duct Tape over the corner pieces on each crate to help keep them from catching on things during shipping.

Here's a photo of one of the final crates.

A Drawing For Western Visions

2009-07-23T08:47:00.003-07:00

For this year's Western Visions Show & Sale at the National Museum of Wildlife Art—in addition to the painting I'm sending—I am also submitting a drawing. The museum has added a 'Sketches' component to the show and has invited all of the participating artists to submit a drawing or sketch if they wish. So, here's mine.

The Art of Commissions

2009-07-15T17:03:00.004-07:00

I have very strict rules when doing a commission — which is why I accept so few of them. An innocent commission can easily deteriorate into the artist being used as a tool for the buyer to create the painting they want. That isn't fine art, at least not in the business sense. That's illustration — being paid to create art that illustrates a buyer's concept. I don't do that and it's important to me that any potential buyer understand my perspective before they engage in commissioning a painting from me.

My rules are simple, the buyer has a say in subject matter and size. That's all. I determine everything else. I'm sometimes flexible on time frames (when a painting might be completed) but for the most part, I work on a particular painting when I have a strong concept for one, and that may take time.

This brings me to a situation regarding a painting I recently completed. It illustrates the best in artist/patron relationships...

A collector of mine contacted me and inquired about whether I had any pieces she might be interested in as she was looking to add a painting to her collection. She did have a set of parameters for the painting that, unfortunately, none of my available work met.

I mentioned to her that I did have an idea for a painting I thought she might be interested in (based on our conversation) and said I could start it immediately if she wished. As a collector, and a well-seasoned art lover, she understood that if the buyer is allowed to dictate too much to the artist as to what they want, often the painting produced suffers from it. She felt, as I do, that the best work is produced when the artist can do as he or she sees fit. With her feelings on the matter communicated, she encouraged me to start the piece right away.

She bought the painting. In fact, she purchased it after seeing it only partially complete.

Technically, I suppose this isn't actually a commission. But, the process with this particular collector was just how I like my commissioned work to go; with no particular expectations from either the buyer or myself other than to produce the best work I can.

Here’s the painting titled, "High and Mighty".

Did A Little Drawing

2009-07-09T09:28:00.002-07:00

I decided to take a break from painting and just "veg-out" on a small drawing. Shifting gears and working on a drawing is one way I like to relax and break from painting.

Rejection: Update

2009-07-06T19:39:00.002-07:00

Coincidentally, I just today received another rejection letter from a show I applied for. See, happens all the time.

Rejection

2009-07-06T13:14:00.005-07:00

An artist friend of mine was recently rejected from a show he'd participated in for the last couple of years. I think he was actually a bit down about it (as any of us would be) and felt as though his not being invited back was somewhat of a setback in his career. I don't feel that way — at least, most of the time I've been rejected.

I can't tell you how many times I've been rejected from participating in art shows, art competitions, etc. The list is long and painful. In fact, the show of which my friend was just "uninvited" from is a show I have been rejected by 3 times. I still have yet to be invited (though that hasn't stopped me from trying, again, and again, and again, and again...do you see a pattern here?)

Rejection is an often difficult, horse-sized pill to swallow, especially when it comes to us by way of our creative endeavors — something many of us are emotionally invested in. But in the scope of one's career, as an artist, rejection can be made a positive. It can often refocus our efforts and allow us to step back from our work and view it from a more objective point-of-view. If you can accept rejection as a motivator to improve your work and not as a step back in your career, you’ll likely get where it is you want to be faster and with fewer bumps. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

Keep painting. Be persistent. And try to not let rejection dampen your enjoyment of what it is you do.

My Process: Part 2

2009-04-16T07:43:00.016-07:00

Well, finally I'm posting something about this large painting I'm demonstrating. So, here goes...

I begin by mixing the same "rust" color I used to tone the canvas - a mixture of equal parts cadmium yellow light, alizarin crimson and a dab of ultramarine blue. I used this mixture, in combination with a small stiff bristle brush, to draw out the composition. As you can see, I don't make a detailed drawing. In fact, it isn't much more detailed than the rough sketch. I am only concerned with getting the most important landmarks of the composition placed and establishing a general guide for spatial and size relationships. This took about 15 minutes.

Once the drawing is finished, I then begin blocking in color. As a generalization, I work background to foreground, top to bottom. This isn't always the case, but for the most part it is how I tend to work. Here I've started blocking in the sky using a mixture of cerulean blue, a little ultramarine blue and a dab of alizarin crimson and cadmium yellow light to gray it down just a bit. I then lay in the color, mixing a bit more titanium white with it as I move down the painting.

To create interest in areas (like the sky) where there are large blocks of flat color, I really like to emphasize my brush strokes, varying the direction and length of them while being careful not to blend them out. This will create a textural quality that adds interest to an otherwise flat area of color. Also, I tend to try and paint as thickly as I can. This serves three purposes; first, when the piece is finished, the thick paint creates a jewel like quality when lighted. Second, the clarity of my colors and definition of my brush strokes are more apparent with the thicker paint. And finally, the thick paint allows me to ‘sculpt’ in a way, creating a 3-dimensional surface quality that helps to strengthen the appearance of depth in the painting.

Here I have began blocking in the clouds. As the large foreground cloud goes darker (towards the base of the thunderhead) my color goes more purple, as I move to lighter areas of the cloud, my color goes more yellow. I never use straight white. I always mix it with something depending on what I want the color temperature of my light area's to be — in this case, the light areas of the clouds will be a mixture of cadmium yellow light and titanium white (warm). This mixture is applied to the brightest parts of my foreground clouds. As the clouds move further back on the horizon, I will paint the highlights of those clouds using more alizarin crimson. I will also gray them down a bit so that the difference between their highlights and their shadows is diminished. This will help to create atmospheric depth.

My brush strokes in the cloud are still apparent but I do blend them out slightly more than I do in the flat areas of the sky. This helps to soften the cloud and create contrast of texture between the clouds and the sky.

At this stage I am continuing to do what I have been — blocking in color. As the cloud begins to take shape, I also begin adding more subtlety of value.

NOTE: If you've never worked with a brightly toned canvas, it's important to consider that you may need to mix and compare colors on your palette and not on your canvas. The bright color will throw off your perception of any particular color's accuracy. So I would recommend getting your color correct on your pallet by comparing it with the other colors on your palette before putting it on the canvas. If its value and hue are correct on your palette, it will be correct on your canvas — even if it doesn't look accurate at first when placed against the brightly toned canvas.

At this point, the sky is a little over halfway finished. I will continue to add subtle changes in value in the clouds as well as finish filling in the areas of the sky still absent of color. Once I complete the sky, I will let it dry before moving on to the foreground elements.

Up to the point of this last image, I've been working for about 6 hours. I've used only 2 brushes — a number 12 bristle flat and a number 10 bristle flat. Also, because Holbein paints come out of the tube slightly more stiff than I like, I mix a very small amount of liquin with each color — just enough to get the paint to flow a little better when applied to the canvas.

If you have any questions about this part of the demonstration, just post them here. I'll answer them as soon as I can.

I hope you've enjoyed the second part of my demonstration. I'll post the third part following this weekend.

Western Visions Show Painting

2009-04-14T08:26:00.008-07:00

Well, here it is... my currently untitled painting for the National Museum of Wildlife Art's Western Visions Show and Sale.

I've included two close-ups of the painting to illustrate certain attributes of my work that I constantly fight to nurture. Although this small JPEG may make the painting appear relatively detailed, the actual work is not.

It is a goal of mine to "tell the story" with as few stokes as possible — to create an illusion of detail without actually painting every detail. I'm a firm believer that this approach not only encourages the development of personal style (something I've mentioned often on this blog), but that it is also a profoundly difficult technique to master.

I realized early on that my paintings lacked elements I loved about work by other artists I admired. The absence of brushwork, paint texture, and the playing of edges in my earlier paintings all became more and more apparent as I stood back and tried to see my work from a more objective point of view.

This has led me to the idea that every stoke should be a small painting unto itself; that the painting surface should have dimension, a sculptural quality that adds actual depth to the work. And finally, that edges should be carefully considered and softened or strengthened wherever they best suite the design of the painting.

These ideas are obviously nothing new, and I certainly didn’t come up with them. But they are concepts I originally ignored and now realize the benefit of. For those of you, like me, who have an innate compulsion to produce detailed work, you understand how difficult it can be just to overcome that compulsion and paint more loosely (let alone to actually be good at it). It is a struggle I’m really enjoying and maybe even beginning to overcome.

I don’t know if this painting is a good piece of art or not — that’s for you all to decide — but I do feel that with it I have achieved some level of success in creating those qualities that I find so appealing in painting.

I hope you all like it!

Sorry for the Delay

2009-04-10T15:45:00.002-07:00

I realize some of you are waiting for me to post more about the large painting I'm demonstrating, but, deadlines called and I had to switch gears and begin work on a couple of pieces for the National Museum of Wildlife Art's Western Visions show. I will get back to working on the demonstration piece very soon and I hope to post more of the demo in the very near future.

The paintings (and this year, a drawing as well) which I create for this museum show, I truly labor over. That's not to say I don't with all of my work, but in the case of this particular show, I like to take my time and really focus on developing a strong concept and be meticulous about creating a painting that clearly communicates those attributes of my work that make it uniquely mine. I feel doing this results in the best possible painting for this show.

The museum has been extraordinarily good to me and it is a tremendous honor to have my work included in a show with the likes of Clyde Aspevig, Bill Anton, Tucker Smith, Morgan Weistling, Mian Situ, Z.S. Liang and so, so, so many others. It goes without saying that the quality of work at this show is tremendous motivation for producing my best — which is partly why I spend so much time on such a small painting (it’s a miniatures show). It’s important to me that not only I be proud to submit the painting to the museum — and also feel it can stand on its own among such an array of great pieces — but that the museum be proud to present it to their patrons and the general viewing public.

Yes, I do feel a lot of pressure in creating this painting, but I’ve often produced some of my best work under great pressure. Pressure isn’t necessarily a bad thing for me.

In a few days, when the painting is dry enough to scan, I’ll post it here.

Well, back to work.

My Process

2009-03-17T15:43:00.011-07:00

And so begins a new painting. In starting this latest work, I thought I'd post a little about my process. As I mentioned in an earlier entry, I typically begin with rough, thumbnail sketches. Sometimes these sketches are extremely loose — massing out only the most basic shapes and value structure — and sometimes they are more finished. In the case of this latest painting (which I am tentatively titling "Rolling Thunder"), the thumbnail sketch I've decided on would qualify as just a notch above rough (at least for me).

If this sketch is a little too rough for you to make out what is going on, well you're not alone. So to help clear it up a bit; it's a painting of several American Bison standing on a hill, big thunderhead above, sage, grass and rock below. (That's the best I can do, you're just going to have to wait for the 'in progress' painting images I'll be uploading.)

From this point, I collect the reference I will need to begin work on the painting. Here are a few of the images I'll be working from. They were shot in Custer State Park, South Dakota — one of the best places I've ever been to gather reference of bison and pronghorn antelope.

Just in case you're wondering, I use Holbein Artists' Oil Colors, Windsor & Newton Lexington II Flats and Rounds (for this painting, the largest sizes they make), and I'll be painting on 48"x36" stretched linen. Because I’m starting with unprimed linen, I’ll be coating it with four layers of gesso (two coats brushed on vertically, and two coats brushed on horizontally). I coat the linen once in the morning, then again in the evening, and then repeat that process the next day. Once I've finished coating the canvas with gesso (if it needs to be coated at all), I'll let it dry for at least 24 hours before toning it.

I tone my canvas using a rust color mixed from equal parts Alizarin Crimson, Cadmium Yellow Light, and a dab of Ultramarine Blue (I've already completed toning this substraight). This mixture was thinned using Liquin and applied to the entire surface of the linen. I then rub the entire surface with a paper towel to remove excess paint. I typically let the canvas dry for one day before I begin painting. In this case, it's been drying...for a while.

Please return frequently as I’ll be posting lots of ‘in progress’ shots and I’ll discuss the whys-and-hows of what I’m doing.

The Inferiority Complex: Smash It With A Blunt, Heavy Mental Object

2009-03-03T12:47:00.007-07:00

Have you ever looked at another artist's work and felt utterly incompetent? Ever compared your work to another's and wondered why you even bother to draw, paint or engage in any creative endeavor? I have. Especially early on in my career.

I keep a long mental list of artists whose work I find so astounding, so completely disarming, so moving in every aspect that I've often wondered why I feel remotely qualified to pick up a brush, a pencil or any other tool that might tempt me to create. I won't name those artists here for fear you may look them up and realize, yes, Dustin is a hack. Instead, I mention this only to remind you (and myself) that at some point, most artists do feel inadequate in their artistic endeavors (at least nearly all of the artists I've spoken with on the subject), and this is especially true if we wrongly measure the merits of our work against others who's work we admire.

Having now been a full-time artist for 8 years (really not that long, I know), I understand that success comes in many, many forms, and sometimes we as artists are unable to see success in our own work — especially if we are constantly comparing our work to others. I realized that if I can look back on the body of work I've created and see tangible improvement — improvement in draftsmanship, improvement in fundamental artistic principles, and most importantly, improvement in defining my own personal artistic style — then that is success.

Comparing one’s own work to the work of other artists can certainly play an important role in learning and growing as an artist. I’ve often found there is no better teacher than in studying the work of other artists. But remember, don’t measure your success as an artist against theirs. It’s a dangerous place to be mentally and will do nothing but stifle your artistic growth.

Smash those feelings of inadequacy with a big mental hammer and get back to enjoying what ever it is you’re creating!

What's the Big Idea?

2009-02-23T10:47:00.004-07:00

My canvas has been prepared. It's now ready for paint. But what to paint?

It is this part of the process that can often be the most frustrating and the most enjoyable — creating a concept.

I've occasionally been asked; From where do I obtain ideas for my paintings? There is no simple answer for this. As a generalization, most of my concepts are inspired by experiences in the field. They are often the end result of combining field studies, photographic reference and sketches to create romanticized versions of the experiences I've had while exploring the vast wilds of North America.

Unfortunately, the ideas sometimes don't come as easily as that explanation might lead one to believe. For me, good art must go beyond subject matter. It should also represent the artist. It must not only communicate the artist's conceptual intentions, but must also give the viewer a glimpse into the artist's personality. The subtleties of brush work, color usage, design, etc., are all important attributes of a painting that help to define the artist. It's for this reason that I'm not interested in creating photorealistic work. Although photorealism demonstrates a great capacity for draftsmanship, I feel it also often renders the artist right out of their own work — reducing the uniqueness of their paintings to literal (and frequently, generic) representations of the artist's photographic reference.

This is partly why the 'Big Ideas' can be hard to come by. I'm not personally interested in just reproducing photos I’ve taken. My process begins with rough sketches (thumbnail drawings) that flesh out the idea. I often complete dozens of these thumbnails, especially when my intention is to create a complex composition, and I then look to my reference to help me bring the concept to life. Even though it is an experience that may inspire a painting, there is much more work to be done to create a painting that might be considered art — and more importantly, art that is uniquely my own. That is what I hope to do with this first canvas in my new series of works.

So, what is going to be my 'Big Idea'? I don't yet have an answer. It may take me a while to create a concept I know will keep me motivated throughout the painting process, which is especially important when doing a piece this large. But once I have it, I'll certainly post it here.

Time for Action

2009-02-18T15:21:00.008-07:00

As an artist, I’m seldom satisfied with a painting I've completed.

Let me correct that; I am never satisfied with a painting I've completed. There is always some aspect of the finished work that irritates my often too critical artist sensibilities — like a nagging itch in the center of my back that I can’t quite scratch. This lack of satisfaction is a major driving force in my compulsion to create. In a way, I am constantly chasing the dangling carrot in hopes I might someday catch it. I'm OK with this. I've learned to not let my mild disappoint with certain aspects of my paintings diminish the accomplishment of them. Every painting is a lesson learned. With every painting I feel I've grown as a painter and matured in some small way. And I believe I am a better artist because of my self-criticism of my work.

But (and there's often a 'but') being a professional artist means having to meet deadlines. These deadlines frequently leave me feeling rushed in my painting, unable to address problems I see in the work because I have to move on to the next. This pressure can exacerbate the problem of self-criticism and can rob me of my motivation to create.

So now it is time for action.

I recently completed 12 paintings over the last several months for my show in Charleston, SC and I certainly felt rushed. That isn’t to say I was disappointed in the work, but I did feel I could have produced better paintings had I been able to truely give each piece the attention it needed. Now that the show is over, I can focus.

Over the coming months I plan to produce a series of paintings I can really concentrate on. There are no deadlines for these works. I am creating them for the purposes of recharging my love of painting, creating the best works I am currently capable of, and if all goes well, I will present them to a gallery I have long admired in hopes they may decide to show them.

I will post 'in progress' images of these paintings, along with a few notes on how I feel about them, here on this blog. I invite all of you to comment on them. I would appreciate your feedback.

SEWE

2009-02-18T15:16:00.005-07:00

I wanted to thank all those that came out in support of the artists and the Southeastern Wildlife Expo in Charleston, SC. I had a great time and thoroughly enjoyed meeting the art lovers, seeing old friends, and selling a few paintings.

What the Blog?

2009-02-18T14:22:00.005-07:00

You may be asking; why would you start a blog? I'm asking myself that very same question. In some ways it seems a bit cliché, and I certainly could find better uses for my time. But I realize that there are a number of you out there (how very small that number may be) who are, for whatever reason, actually interested in what I'm doing and what I have to say. This blog will give me an opportunity to keep those of you interested in my work and my career, better up-to-date.

I'll use this blog to post my thoughts on art, life and anything else I feel the need to vent about. It will also provide me a forum for showcasing paintings in progress and my latest works, cover recent events and connect with others.

I hope those of you who read my blog find it enjoyable and I look forward to any responses you feel compelled to post.