Creativity and Art

Just this for today...

2012-02-12T14:09:00.000-08:00

Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go out and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.

- Harold Whitman

Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.

- Rumi

The Value of Creative Expression

2012-02-07T10:24:00.000-08:00

So how do we find our own unique creative style or "voice?"

What I'm talking about here is something authentic and "real" to you - not a technique that you "affect" just because it's trendy or startling or controversial or might sell better than other styles. Not something you contrive, but something you discover for yourself and refine or allow to evolve over time from your own creativity. Ideally, it's the essence of your personality and vision that is expressed through your artistic medium. Think of paintings by Vincent van Gogh, Rembrandt, or John Singer Sargent...photographs by Ansel Adams...music by Beethoven or The Police or Billie Holliday. Each of these artists had his or her own unique form of expression that was instantly recognizable and somehow an outgrowth of their personalities.

I'll be honest - some of us seem to find this easier to do than others.

This then begs the question - how do we actually find or develop our own creative voice?
I'll start by saying that for most of us it's a longterm process. In essence, it involves coming to a deep understanding, acceptance, and even love for who we are as people. Obviously this doesn't happen overnight and likely explains why it may take decades for that uniqueness to fully flower in our artwork.

Do you really, deeply know and accept who you are, what you like and don't like, what you're good at, and what needs improvement?

Just as importantly, this process of developing your creative voice involves a lot of letting go. Letting go of expectations is vitally important...expectations that you might have about your work as well as expectations that others may have about you and your work. If you are constantly trying to "fit in" or please someone else (for example, paint the subject matter that your spouse likes rather than what you like) you will never give yourself the creative "breathing room" necessary to develop your own creative voice. If you place the expectation on yourself that you MUST sell everything that you produce, even experimental pieces, once again you likely won't have the creative space necessary to find your unique direction. In fact you just might sell everything you produce, even your experimental pieces, but placing the expectation on yourself that you HAVE to sell them will likely hinder your creative experimentation. If you expect that your work MUST look like so-and-so's work, then you unnecessarily limit your ability to express your own individuality.

(As a side note for professional artists - yes, you can give yourself space to experiment and find your creative voice while still producing your "bread and butter" work - but more on that later.)

There's another thing you must let go of in order to allow your true creative essence to shine - you must let go of fear. If you fear what others might think of your new work, you're not free to be truly creative. If you fear never getting your new artwork in a show you'll be chained to producing more of the accepted norm. If you're afraid what others may think of you personally, well then, you're definitely limited in your ability to be expressive both creatively and personally.

Unfortunately these things are hindering most artists out there right now. Rare is the artist who breaks the mold to put his or her unique stamp on their work.

It's your choice - which path will you choose?

All images and text copyright Nancy Rynes, 2012. You may link to this blog freely, but you cannot copy it without my express written permission.

Getting your work in shows - the view from a Curator's chair (Part II)

2012-01-11T06:13:00.000-08:00

So you’ve followed all of the rules in the prospectus and submitted good photos of your art on time but your work still didn’t get accepted into the show. Why not?

And what is it that curators and jurors are looking for?

Obviously, this varies by show, curator, and juror so I’ll give you my viewpoint as one, lone curator for a regional show in New England. This may or may not apply to other shows (or curators/jurors/judges) in other areas.

Keep in mind, too, that during the selection process I often view hundreds of entries over the course of a couple of weeks. I often go through them several times before making a selection…which means I may view thousands of images. Honestly, it can get mind-numbing, especially when viewing many artists with very similar work.

Also remember that what makes it into a show or exhibit isn’t necessarily what art collectors want to buy....but that's a topic for another time

So what, exactly, do I look for as a curator/juror?

Ideally, I look for work that has an IMPACT on the viewer. Some kind of “WOW!” factor that can be difficult to quantify. I’ve listed here some of the qualities of an artwork that produce a positive, “WOW!” impact for me:

Mastery of the Medium – I’ve been in the arts long enough to be able to recognize someone who has good control or mastery of his/her chosen medium and this is one of the first things that stands out. You’ve studied, practiced, painted miles of canvas/paper or taken thousands of photos. For painting/photography, you’ve mastered composition, light, color, viewpoint, eye movement, brushwork, etc. For sculptures, your work demonstrates balance, movement/energy, and is nicely composed. It really does take time to become good at what you do. The arts are no exception. Study, learn from your “mistakes,” put in the time to perfect the craft of art. Trust me, it will pay off.
Use of Values – for photographs, paintings, and drawings, expert use of values makes for a stunning piece. This is a function of how the human eye and brain combine to perceive a scene – bright, warm colors and strong contrasts tend to stand out in our fields of view more than dull colors or low contrast. I will admit that I often first choose images employing good use of chiaroscuro or strong contrasts when viewing show entries. But I’m also attracted to images with subtler, gentler use of values – such as landscapes of rainy scenes or gray days. I once entered a painting of a white phase Gyrfalcon with a dark blue background in an art show – viewers from 75 or more feet away, across the hotel lobby, saw the painting, were attracted by the bold values and came up and spoke with me about it. And yes, it sold.
Expert use of Edges – for paintings, drawings, and (sometimes) photographs, masterful use of hard vs soft edges can really make an impact on a viewer and lure the viewer's eye to linger in the work.
Use of Color – Works with warm colors tend to be more attractive to the eye than works using mostly cool colors. I’m human…I too am attracted to works with a lot of warm tones but I rarely let this keep me from bringing a strong piece of work into a show if the color scheme is cooler. Not every juror or curator feels the same – from my perspective as an artist, I can tell you that my warm-toned paintings get accepted to shows with much more frequency than my cooler-toned paintings.
Strong, Gutsy Compositions – Paint a cute puppy dead center on a canvas and I’m likely to pass it by. Be bold and creative with your composition and I’m much more likely to send you an acceptance letter, even if it is for a painting of puppy.
Size – Bigger is often better in the world of art shows. I have a lot of wall space to fill and yes, I admit to being biased toward bringing in larger works. It’s easier to arrange the hanging of five big pieces of art rather than 25 small pieces. Having said that, I do strive to balance out these shows with a mix of large and small works.
Something Out of the Ordinary – I live and curate in Maine. I can’t begin to tell you how many images of lighthouses and sailboats have been submitted to these shows. I usually pass them by. Sorry, but I am tired of seeing the same view of the same lighthouse or barn submitted by every photographer in a three-state radius! If it’s been done hundreds or thousands of times, leave it alone. Find a fresh perspective on it or, better yet, a completely different/unexpected subject…zoom in…zoom out…something a bit out of the ordinary will often attract the eye of a juror or curator.

But the absolute number one thing that excites me about an artist’s work is……can you guess?

Have a unique, clear, distinctive “vision” or “voice” that shines through.

What do I mean by “unique vision?”

This is a complex topic and the subject of a class I’ll be teaching (and a future workbook). In short, it’s a combination of all of the above points PLUS your uniqueness shining through in the end product. Your stamp, your viewpoint, your experiences, YOU. It’s more than just “style” or just “subject matter” or brushstrokes or focal length. It’s that impossible-to-quantify uniqueness that makes us recognize an Ansel Adams photograph from across a gallery. It’s your unique inspiration, your creativity, what excites you about your art. Copying others' work or style isn't right on many levels but for me, the most important reason to break your own trail in the arts is so that others can see YOUR creative spark. It’s YOU – so don’t be afraid to let it come through in your work! It may take you some time to get a sense as to what your vision is, but the path to getting there is perhaps more fun and enlightening than the destination.

This, then, is what I really look for when I curate….Unique Vision...and frankly, it’s darn hard to come by.

This blog post and its artwork is copyright N. Rynes, 2012. You may link to or "share" this blog post, but you do not have permission to copy it or its artwork without my written permission.

Getting your work in shows - the view from a Curator's chair (Part I)

2011-12-30T06:49:00.000-08:00

I've had some eye-opening experiences in the last year since becoming the part-time "curator" of juried, rotating art exhibits for small healthcare corporation in Maine. To give you a little bit of background - we have shows every 6 months in which multiple New England artists are selected to have their work displayed. We publicize, send out announcements, post flyers, and e-mail our prospectus to hundreds of artists twice a year. At any one time we may have 40-50 (or more) artists displaying their work throughout our corporate offices.

Like most shows, we have a prospectus that tells artists how to present their work for consideration, and also spells out the details of the exhibit.

My eye-openers may help you as you apply to have your work in future juried exhibits:

· Read the prospectus carefully and abide by any "rules" set out in it. Yes, this is a "no-brainer" but you’d be surprised at how many folks ignore the exhibit guidelines! We don't write a prospectus simply for the fun of it - we write it so you know how best to present your work to us, and also so you know what to expect from the curatorial staff and the show. It constantly amazes me the numbers of artists who, when asked to submit JPEG files of less than 500KB, submit BMP files of 3 MB or more....or who ask questions that are clearly answered in paragraph one.

· Act like a professional, always. This means in all correspondence, on the phone, and in person. Don’t whine, plead, or beg in your correspondence, no matter how much you want your work in the show…you risk coming off as difficult to deal with. And while I may work with you once, if you're difficult to deal with I'm less likely to ask for your work a second time or for a special exhibit.
· Take your work seriously and treat your work as if it's the product of a professional artist.

· Make sure you’re submitting your best work. Ask yourself this question: Would you be proud to display your work on your walls? If not, then why should we? I'll expand on this in a future post.

· Submit a body of work of similar style and/or subject matter, rather than one of this and one of that.

· If your medium displays best as a framed work, please use similar framing (as much as possible) on all pieces accepted. Oh, and use the best frames you can afford and err on the side of simpler frames (especially for work on paper). This makes your display look professional and draws attention to your work rather than the frame. I suspect the last thing you want in a show is for viewers to remark on your framing choice and ignore your art.

What are the surest ways to have your work rejected from a show?

· Don't follow the rules in the prospectus when submitting your work.

· Take poor-quality photos of your work and submit them for consideration.

· Submit student, derivative, or copied work (by "copied work" I mean work copied from others where you don't own the copyright).

· Don't send in all information as requested.

· Miss the deadline, then beg and plead to have your work considered anyway.

Curators aren’t ogres who are trying to stand between you and a successful art career. We’re business-people who are trying to put together a coherent show that looks beautiful and represents your work to its fullest extent. And as business people, we appreciate working with professionals.

We’re not superhuman either - we have limitations…often we’re dealing with many artists at one time, coordinating facilities and other support personnel, organizing the opening reception, sometimes repainting (or building) walls, creating and printing promo materials, etc. We may be viewing your entries on a computer that has a small hard drive and an even smaller screen. We often have limited financial resources or tight budgets or not enough wall/storage space or not enough support staff and definitely never enough time (or all of these).

We’re human, just one person or a small handful of people dealing with a multitude of artists. Quite frankly, being a curator for a show of 300 works is the hardest art-related job I’ve ever done! Have pity on us and try to make the process as smooth for us as possible J

Painting and the Art of Unlearning

2011-11-02T07:26:00.000-07:00

Ralph Oberg, one of my two favorite painting instructors, often drilled into my head that being a successful painter was more a process of unlearning what we think we know about a scene so that we can learn to see what's really there.

He was talking about landscape painting en plein air but it applies to every other representational subject matter too.

What did he mean by this?

If you see clouds as white, pine trees as always green, or mountain as always brown, Ralph's words are for you. As far as color goes, in our minds we often create an association between an object and a color:

Apples are red
Oranges are orange
A tree is green
An egg is white
An asphalt road is black

It's not our fault - we are taught these things from the time we're small children and unless you're an artist, you never really have a reason to see things any differently. But if you are an artist and paint those big, puffy clouds in a blue sky as pure white, they will likely look wrong to you.

Why?

Pure white looks wrong because a cloud really isn't white. A cloud is made up of tiny little droplets of water surrounding small particles of dust. They have no inherent "whiteness" of their own. These little water particles are rather dense (ever fly through clouds in an airplane??) and reflect and refract light from all over the scene. We need to throw away what we think we know about clouds in order to paint them in a way that looks "right" for the landscape we're painting.

In my painting of "Corona Arch," the clouds are not pure white even though it may appear that way at first. The undersides are a mix of colors: permalba white, burnt sienna, ultramarine blue, ivory black, and a little cad orange.

The lighter areas are a mix of white, cad orange, and likely a little lemon yellow and perm red medium thrown in. No pure white. Why?

The color-temperature of the light that day was really warm. It was mid afternoon on a June day, probably 105 deg F, and the rocks were baking. The afternoon sun had an orange cast to it. The light reflected off the rocks onto the trees and clouds was also warm...you can see that captured in the undersides (dark sides) of the clouds. I wanted a sense of that warm orange-y light to suffuse everything in the scene as it did when I was there in person.

Pure white, especially titanium white, is inherently "cool" in color-temperature. I knew the light parts of the clouds needed to be light, but they needed to be quite warm too. That's why I added the orange, yellow, and red. Once the highlights were thrown into the orange color range, they looked "correct" for the colors going in the rest of the scene.

Something else you might notice in this painting is that the shadow areas are full of lively color - they're not black as we often see in photographs. Why? Your eyes don't normally see shadows as black because they are better than a camera at capturing a wide range of tonal changes. The camera's tonal range, in contrast, is quite limited, so if the camera exposes a picture for the light areas, often the shadows will revert to almost-black.

When I initially came upon this scene on a hike I painted a small on-site oil sketch of it. My eyes saw the shadows as full of warm, lively color...unlike the photos I took of the scene (my camera made the shadows tend toward dark purple when I exposed for the lights). When I painted the larger version back in the studio, I tried to reproduce those warm shadows as much as possible, pushing them to strong red in some cases. It worked and is very faithful to the glowing red rocks and canyons of the area around Moab, Utah.

So next time you're outside enjoying a nice day, whether or not you're painting, take some time to look around you. Try to forget what you think you know about a scene and see the colors for what they really are. Do you see the reds and oranges in the conifers? What color is the grass in sunlight vs. shadow? Are the green trees reflecting green onto the undersides of the clouds? What color is the pavement in light and shadow? And have fun unlearning :-)

Painting ("Corona Arch") copyright Nancy Rynes, 2010. Prints available...contact me via email for more information.

An Experiment in Off-handed Painting

2011-10-26T15:30:00.000-07:00

"Three Moose in Red"

A few years ago I ran across a magazine article that discussed several artists who, for varying reasons, began painting with their non-dominant hands. I'll admit that at first I thought it was a little weird to even consider - why would anyone want to do that? Wouldn't be really difficult? I'm a righty and the few times I've tried writing with my left hand the results looked like chicken scratch!

Of course I ended up trying it - mostly just to see what would happen and to get a laugh or two.

"Oh Please Oh Please"

Yep, at first it was pretty difficult trying to control my left hand in the same way I control my right. Then a thought occurred to me - DON'T try to make my left hand behave as if it were my right. So I let go of the need to produce a certain outcome and just let things flow as they might.

The first few were really awful so I never bothered to take pics...but after the 3rd, things started looking up for my left-handed alter-ego.

"Balancing Act - study"

I noticed the paintings were more graphic, less "realistic", with a more contemporary rather than classic feel. Even stranger, at least to me, is that I really wanted to let my wacky, humorous side out in these paintings. I'm not sure if that happened because I didn't really focus on the result, or if another part of my brain had taken over - a part of my brain where all of the humor was stored.

"Stilts"

I liked the results enough to keep the experiment going. My lefty paintings continue to evolve in ways I would not expect, but that's the fun part of this. I have no expectations as to what the results look like with my left hand so these paintings are really fun and expressive for me. They loosen me up, make me think about painting elements in different ways, and I think in the end they are helping me grow as a painter.


"Crow Medicine"

I've also been amazed at how well-received these paintings have been here in Maine. My own view of these paintings was that they were strange and a bit goofy and honestly, I didn't take them seriously. This summer I got up the courage to bring a few in to work and a lot of folks really liked the images and the sense of whimsey. That experience gave me a new perspective on these and I realize they're just a valid as my right-handed paintings so I've given them their due - a separate website and a slightly different name for my left-handed alter-ego.

More of my lefty paintings are here: Nancy Rose Art

"Eyes of the Rainforest"

2011-09-10T15:24:00.000-07:00

My latest...it's an 18"x24" oil on linen of a juvenile Great Horned Owl and a stylized Haida owl face in the bark..."Eyes of the Forest". The Haida owl face is a little easier to see in the original, but I've included a detail shot here to help you out :)

Creating a Compelling Painting: Memorable Images

2011-09-09T12:16:00.000-07:00

The blur between art and science continues to fascinate me. These days, I'm especially intrigued with new research surrounding vision, visual perception, brain functioning (neurobiology), and how understanding these sciences can help us create art with an impact.

Think about the most memorable paintings or photographs you've ever seen. Which ones have stuck with you over time or have made the most impact? If you have the time, take a moment and write as many of them down as you can. Note the subject matter too.

Here's what I come up with when I do this exercise:

John Singer Sargent's "Oyster Gatherers of Cancale" and "Madame X" (figurative)
Bob Kuhn's "Night on the Town" and "A Little to the Left"(wildlife)
Leonardo da Vinci's "Mona Lisa" and "The Last Supper" (figurative)
Michaelangelo's "David" and "Pieta" (figurative)
Seurat's "Sunday in the Park" (figurative)
Carl Rungius' "Three Old Gentlemen", "Wyoming Sage", and "Quantrell Moose" (wildlife)
Rungius' "Lake O'Hara" (landscape)
JW Waterhouse's "The Lady of Shallott" (figurative)
Mary Cassatt's "Girl Arranging Her Hair" (figurative)
Howard Pye's "Buccaneer of the Caribbean" and "The Flying Dutchman" (figurative)

I could keep going but I think you're starting to see a pattern.

It seems that for many of us, the most memorable images we hold in our minds are those which contain people or figures. While I've observed this at art museums and shows, MIT researchers now show us this is indeed the case.

While the human brain can file away many, many images, they're not all equally memorable:

For the new study, the researchers built a collection of about 10,000 images of all kinds — interior-design photos, nature scenes, streetscapes and others. Human subjects in the study (who participated through Amazon’s Mechanical Turk program, which farms tasks out to people sitting at their own computers) were shown a series of images, some of which were repeated. Their task was to indicate, by pressing a key on their keyboard, when an image appeared that they had already seen.

Each image’s memorability rating was determined by how many participants correctly remembered seeing it.
In general, images with people in them are the most memorable, followed by images of human-scale space — such as the produce aisle of a grocery store — and close-ups of objects. Least memorable are natural landscapes, although those can be memorable if they feature an unexpected element, such as shrubbery trimmed into an unusual shape.
It's unclear from the story in the link below as to whether photos with animals were tested for memorability.

What difference does this make to us as artists?

Perhaps now we can begin to understand why 5 out of the last 6 top prize paintings in the Oil Painers of America National Juried Exhibition (at the Associate level) went to paintings depicting the human figure.

Does this mean we should all switch to depicting the human figure in our work?

Hardly, but it does give us a little insight into what attracts a viewer's attention. Seems viewers have an easier time remembering artwork that we can intimately identify with.

Whether you choose to incorporate this finding in to your own work is a personal matter. Bob Kuhn painted wildlife his entire fine art career and supported himself quite nicely, thank you very much.

I'd argue for you to avoid chasing sales - paint what's in your Soul, not simply what you think may sell.

http://web.mit.edu/newsoffice/2011/memorable-images-0524.html

Creating a Compelling Painting - Focal Point

2011-07-18T03:49:00.000-07:00

I think one of the common goal of all artists is to create a work of art that is compelling or somehow makes an impact on the viewer.

From the standpoint of a representational painter, some of the things that help to create a compelling painting are masterful use of:

Color Plan
Value Plan
Composition
Eye Movement
Focal point

Let's start with the last - focal point. This is often a tough one for landscape painters, and can be problematic for wildlife and figurative painters as well.

In short - you need to have a reason for your viewer to be looking at your painting. Your painting needs one primary center of attention in order to grab the viewer's eye and hold it. If there is no focal point, the viewer's eyes will wander aimlessly around your painting, then wander off if there is nothing to capture the viewer's attention.

And the tough part? The rest of the painting needs to be handled in such a way as to support that one primary focal point.

Some focal points come easily: human figures or animals create instant focal points, so place them with some thought and care.

I'd rather show you what I mean rather than talk about it:

http://richardprather.com/works/503314/evenings-hush

Where's the focal point in this painting, and how does Richard support that?

The focal point is the little area on the middle-right side of the painting, where the white-sided barn, yellow bus/truck, and cow all congregate. If you notice, to strengthen the focal point Richard did a few things:

the placement of the cow supports the focal point - your eye is immediately drawn to the animal
there is a mix of shape, color, and value clustered near the focal point
Richard placed sharper edges at the focal point - this will also capture your attention because he subdued the edges in the rest of the painting.
the rest of the details, colors, and values in the other parts of the painting have been subdued to draw attention to the focal area.
Richard placed a tiny dot of a dark red to strengthen the focal point
The artist also used a very subtle (but effective), diagonal lead-in from the lower-left part of the painting to that cow near the focal point.

Now take a look at these paintings and see if you can determine the focal point for each, and the ways that the artist supports that:

http://richardprather.com/works/189149/a-new-day

http://danyoungstudio.com/4lg.htm

http://danyoungstudio.com/TheFinale.html

Think about focal point in any painting that you create - where do you want your viewer's eye to travel, and how will your support that?

The Study of Art: Self-teaching vs. More Structured Learning

2011-05-07T16:30:00.000-07:00

This is another one of those posts that might ruffle a feather or two...let me just say that this is from my own personal experience and observation as a representational artist and may not apply to those pursuing a non-representational style.

I've talked to a number of people who paint who consider themselves "self-taught." If you are one of these folks and wish to increase your skills as an artist, (IMO) you might do well to take some classes, workshops, or a structured online course to learn some of the finer points of your medium and approach.

Why?

Basically, most self-taught artists "don't know what they don't know." There is a wealth of information a gifted artist/teacher can pass on to you in a very short amount of time. This knowledge and skill transfer can help you progress more in a weekend workshop than 2-3 years (or more) of self-study could give you. You have that instructor right there, in the flesh, telling and showing you better or different ways of doing things, helping you through a roadblock, helping you to see or mix color, and on and on.

Another interesting thing that I've noted, besides the quick progress of my work after a workshop, is that self-study becomes easier. I get more out of the books I read and DVDs I watch after taking a class. For me it's a positive feedback loop - the more I study with a teacher, the more I learn from ALL methods.

Are there exceptions to this? Of course, but they are quite rare. The vast majority of the "top-tier" and "middle-tier" representational artists I know have had either a formal art education or have taken several workshops - and some have done both. Some have studied under a mentor or had one-on-one tutelage. But the vast majority have learned important skills from someone else.

Besides artistic technique, you can learn some very valuable "business of art" skills when studying under a professional artist. You'll have a lot of time to ask how he/she got that first gallery representation, or what frames they use, or what galleries treat their artists well, etc. Practically anything art-business is fair game during a workshop, so don't be shy about asking!

Can you study on your own and be a "successful" artist? Possibly, but it's much easier and you'll most likely see quicker progress if you occasionally take a workshop or class.

Why Learn to Draw?

2011-04-03T19:16:00.000-07:00

I'm probably going to get myself into a lot of trouble with this post, but so be it.

If you're a representational artist, drawing is one of those skills that you really owe it to yourself to learn, and learn how to do well.

Why learn the skill of drawing when, in these days of computers, digital photos, and projectors, tracing is so easy?

Leaving the purist arguments aside, yes, I do know that various forms of tracing have been used by some well-known artists in the past. Generally though, these methods were employed by artists who already knew how to draw from "scratch." Tracing was (usually) something they employed occasionally and didn't rely on for all of their paintings. Can you imagine the great John Singer Sargent doing all of his portrait work from traced photos? No, neither can I.

These days things are very different.

When I go into a gallery today I see too many paintings that obviously had their beginnings as a tracing of a photo. I don't have an issue with folks who are already skilled in drawing, tracing every now and again (and here you thought I was a total purist). But I do have an issue with folks using tracing exclusively when they never learned how to draw.

I also object to is the thinking that drawing is not necessary for a "successful" representational painting. I would argue just the opposite - that drawing is an essential skill to have if you want to produce quality representational paintings.

Why?

If you know how to draw, it's much easier to salvage a painting if something goes wrong while you're working on it. And trust me, at some point, something will go wrong. Usually when there is a deadline looming. For a very important show. In three days. You'll place a misguided brushstroke and suddenly someone's foot (or paw) looks like a sausage! If you have some drawing skills, you can probably salvage this without discarding the painting and starting over. If you rely only on tracing though, you'll probably need to start over from a fresh tracing. You've lost your outlines with the misguided brushstroke and now you don't know what to do to salvage the foot.

Also, because you draw, you're not "married" to the photo - it's easier for you to exaggerate or accentuate certain things (such as making legs a little longer, exaggerate gesture or movement, or change the tilt of a head or the position of an arm). And because you can easily change things to suit your tastes, your own style will evolve more easily and quickly than if you only knew how to trace. Back to John Singer Sargent...have you noticed how he often exaggerated the height of his subjects or the length of their fingers? And can you imagine Sargent's work without this exaggeration? It's part of his style, and he could not have done it without knowing how to draw.

If you know how to draw, sketching from life will open up a new world of subject matter and observation to you. When you draw something yourself, you get to know how that subject looks very intimately. Every curve and angle makes sense after you draw the object. And the more you draw and sketch, the more you observe and the more intimately you get to know your subject. It's a beautiful positive feedback loop! This is precisely why seasoned artists continue to participate in weekly life drawing sessions, some throughout their lives. It continuously hones our observation and drawing skills. And learning to observe will help you immeasurably not only in your drawings, but in your paintings too. The more you draw and observe your subject, the easier it will be for you to see when something "just isn't right" with one of your paintings. Even better is that it will be easier for you to fix it!

I use my drawing skills constantly with my wildlife art. I take a sketchbook with me on hikes or wildlife observation trips...and I use it! Depending on what mood I'm in, I can draw the wildlife, native plants and flowers, or landscape details. I take my sketchbook with me to natural history museums, especially if they have a particular mounted specimen that I need to see and study (especially helpful for extinct species like the Great Auk or Labrador Duck). And yes, my drawing skills have been the starting point for my paintings, and the savior of many of those!

Besides all of that, drawing is just plain fun! :)

Try it sometime. Give yourself a chance to really learn to draw by taking an in-person class with a live instructor. And be patient with yourself - it might take you 3 or more months to learn the basics, and perhaps years to master the skill. Every time I put pencil to paper I learn something new.

As you've seen, though, the benefits of drawing are very much worth the effort of learning it!

Animal Art Notes - Study Skins Part II

2011-03-21T08:38:00.000-07:00

How do you go about finding a study skin collection to use?

The best place to start is a college or university that is close to your residence. Your best bet is to check in with the biology department to see if one of the professors specializes in ornithology (the study of birds). If so, send him or her a letter or e-mail detailing who you are and your request to use the skins. Be specific about which skin(s) you need, why you would like access to them, and how quickly you can be finished. If you have worked with a study skin collection in the past, note that in your letter and be specific as to which collection, and the year(s) you used it. If you have a background in the sciences, note that as well, and provide the URL to your website if you have one.

Be prepared not to be granted access to the collection! A college or university is under no obligation to help you out. Things that may help your cause include:

- Working with ornithologists or collections in the past
- Having a background in biology
- Being a pro-level artist and/or known in your community as an artist
- Having an affiliation with the college, university, or local conservation organizations
- Volunteering on local biology/conservation projects

If you're turned down, you may try checking in with other, more distant colleges or universities and natural history museums to see if they have skin collections you could access. Additionally, some natural history museums have mounted skins (taxidermied mounts) on display behind glass that may meet your needs, but beware of the older mounts as they may have faded or discolored greatly over time. It's usually fine to bring a sketchbook and pen/pencil to museums, but wet media and cameras may not be allowed. Check with the museum before visiting.

If that fails and you're still interested in drawing from skins, don't give up! Join the local Audubon society or birders' group and make yourself and needs known. Be patient, keep talking, keep promoting yourself, continue to create and market your art, and volunteer with on conservation or research projects that appeal to you.

Animal Art Notes - Bird Study Skins Part I

2011-02-24T06:43:00.000-08:00

For those of you painting, drawing, or sculpting birds, learning how to work from prepared study skins can open up an entirely new area of reference material for you. I am grateful to have access to a couple of different college and university collections and look to these study skins to fill in gaps from blurry photos, or in composing paintings simply from a memory I have of a scene.

I do not personally advocate simply tracing a photo in order to create a painting or drawing, so study skins have become important reference material for me.

Why not simply trace a photo?

If you do not have the ability to draw and rely solely on tracing to create a painting, you are severely limiting yourself and what you can create. You are now a complete slave to your photo, relying on it for composition, proportion, pose/gesture, movement, and detail. Your ability to "invent" or create scenes from your imagination is severely limited, as is your ability to make minor tweaks and changes. Basically, you have hog-tied your creativity. If you rely completely on tracing, do yourself a HUGE service and learn to draw. It's a discipline that will take time, but it's time well-spent.

So what is a bird study skin anyway?

Bird study skins are just that - the skin of a bird preserved for later study. These are not taxidermied mounts (although working from mounts can be a valuable aid as well). Preserving a bird as a study skin is a no-frills way to keep a large number of bird specimens in a neat and compact form for future study.

What you get:

1. Usually wings-in mounts
2. Good reference for overall length and measurements of head, beak/bill, legs, and some feathers
3. Body feather patterns and colors on fresh skins
4. The ability to see individual variability in a large collection of skins
5. A bird that stays in one place so you can practice your drawing :)
6. The ability to view and draw extinct species

What you don't get:

1. Typically you won't see wings-out skins because they are more fragile and more difficult to store
2. On older skins, colors of beak/bill and feathers may have faded or changed
3. Skins can be in "not-so-perfect" condition (missing feathers, somewhat contorted, broken wings)
4. Eye details (eyes are not preserved or replaced in these skins)

Do's and Don'ts of using study skins:

1. DO expect to work on-site, not at your home
2. DO bring white cotton gloves and use them for handling fragile skins
3. DO draw using dry media only: pencil and disposable mechanical drawing pens preferred
4. DO ask about photography before bringing your camera
5. DO be respectful and professional: show up on-time, work quickly, and handle the specimens carefully
6. DO gently smooth down feathers if needed
7. DO NOT try to pull the wings out or open the beak - you will break them
8. DO NOT try to move the legs or feet - you will break them too!
9. DO NOT allow water or other liquids near the specimens
10. DO NOT pull on feathers

Working from skins has its limits. It's probably best not to let working from bird study skins take the place of personal observation. Observing birds first hand will allow you to watch how the bird moves, behaves, and communicates. Direct observation also allows you to see accurate colors in different lighting situations. Because of this, working from study skins is a great supplement to personal observation and photograph reference material but in most cases should not replace it.

Obtaining permission to use a study skin collection will be the subject of my next post.

All contents of this post copyright 2011 Nancy Rynes

Abstract/Contemporary "vs." Traditional" Art

2011-02-04T09:33:00.000-08:00

In art circles these days, it seems many artists have arranged themselves in one of two opposing "camps": abstract/contemporary artists vs traditional (representational) artists. Some arts organizations have even sprung up to entrench these divisions, separating "us" from "them" with decidedly militant-sounding editorials and websites. Some proponents of "traditional" art completely dismiss anything "modernist" as worthless - not even art. The same can be said for some modernists' views of traditional art.

Seems humans aren't happy unless they can create drama and conflict.

I'm not sure why such a gulf has to exist.

I've been painting for about 25 years, taking it seriously in the last 8-10 years. My work to date would be considered "traditional" in style - certainly representational. I'm not sure I would consider it "art." Craft, yes, but art....? Let me explain...

A couple of years ago I'll admit to a certain boredom with my subject matter - I think my feeling at the time could be summed up by: who really cares to see yet another painting of a woman, a sunset, or a seashore? I mean really...who cares? Yeah, the technique may be beautiful, the lighting exquisite, and the subject well-rendered, but really, what is this saying? I realized my paintings weren't saying much at all. I felt they had no depth, no "soul." They certainly weren't representing what was in my own soul. I was simply painting pretty pictures - things that were appealing to the eye and that sold when hung on a gallery wall. But I had ignored the soul of the painting - and my own too.

And what's art without soul?

It's certainly not art...

So I set about to try to free "soul" in my paintings...and it's something I'll explore for the rest of my life I'm sure. It's also the core of what my course and book will cover. To start things off, I thought I would try abstraction...it looked pretty easy, so why not, right?

Do you "traditional" artists know how utterly difficult it is to create a really well-executed abstract? Try it sometime - I was shocked at how horrible the resulting "art" looked as a whole. Thankfully I had wonderful training and knew how to use my materials (brushes, paints, canvas, etc.), but I had no idea how to compose and execute an abstract painting.

It's not easy - I gained a profound respect for gifted modernists.

I also realized that there are a few things both camps can learn from the other:

-Modernists can learn that there is a huge value in thorough study of the materials and techniques of their chosen media. I have seen a lot of "modern art" where it's obvious that the artist really didn't have a clear understanding of things such as paint handling and application, color mixing, drawing, and composition (for a painter).

-Traditionalists can learn that there is value in learning how to create a pleasing painting absent in obvious subject matter. You'll learn the true importance of value, color, transitions, line, shape, balance, and composition.

-I learned that with modern art, the state of your inner being is more readily apparent in your work. I haven't done a scientific study on this, but I've noted repeatedly that abstract artists with, for example, fast-moving/energetic minds tend to create mostly fast-moving and energetic paintings. This isn't so obvious in traditional or representational pieces - the subject matter and traditional technique can camouflage a lot.

-Both camps can learn the absolute necessity of painting what's in your heart and soul - not what someone else tells you is the "right" thing to paint. When it comes right down to it, you're the best judge of what is right for you. Creating from your soulspace is freeing, energizing, and absolutely satisfying.

I explore 3 different painting styles now...realism with mythic and surreal elements, abstraction, and a hybrid of the two. I'm excited about integrating the two camps in my own work - it seems to give me the balance I crave. And I now look forward to easel time, rather than dread it!

There is always something I can learn from someone else...I'm thankful that I gave abstraction a chance to speak to me and broaden my mind, and my art.

Your Creative Intent

2011-01-26T07:41:00.000-08:00

As an artist, is there a type of work have you been longing to create but have been too scared to try? Are you known for your realist still life paintings but have always wanted to try abstract landscapes? Or are you an oil painter wanting to try collage, but you heard from a mentor that collage isn't "real art" so you're reluctant to experiment?

For me, true "art" is about setting free that creative energy that's inside us without putting on it the shackles of someone else's opinion of "acceptable" or "beautiful." So many artists I know are afraid to experiment, are afraid to let their creativity and imaginations out because they are scared about what other people might think. Or they might be afraid the experiment won't be successful or salable.

Rubbish!

Worrying about what other people might think, and letting it influence what you create, is NOT the mainstay of a true artist.

A true artist creates what is in his or her "soul" because he or she MUST create it. It needs to come out, and will come out, no matter what other people think about it or its creator. It may or may not sell - but to a true artist, that is not as important as scratching that creative "itch" inside.

I realize that many professional artists create work that regularly sells - more power to you! I can only hope those same professional artists are truly creating what is in their souls, and not just what they think might please someone else. Whether your work is realistic in nature, abstract, or expressionistic doesn't matter here - a realist can certainly create a work of art from his or her soul, and an abstract artist can knock out production pieces just because they'll sell. I'm not leaving "craftsmen" out of this either - I have seen some soul-filled work come out of a woodworkers shop, and incredible art come off a potter's wheel.

Perhaps it's not really the product that's the real art - maybe it's the intent and the act of creation?

Think about what your intent is next time you set out to create.

Also ask yourself these questions:

Are you energized by what you're creating?
Is there something else you'd rather be doing?
Are you excited by it, or bored with it?

If you're bored, your artistic soul might be telling you it's time for a change.

Stay tuned to this blog for more details on my upcoming online course: "Finding Your Creative Vision" which will show you some ways to set your creative energy free and create work that really excites you! It's due out the summer of 2011....contact me to be put on the mailing list, or check back here periodically for updates.

In Gratitude

2010-12-08T11:56:00.000-08:00

Sometimes someone comes into your life and completely changes the course that seemed to be laid out for you. Life can never be the same. Dixie* did this for me many years ago and laid out the foundation that would become my creative and artistic life.

Dixie and her husband Gregory* were old friends of my parents - my family and I saw them quite often and for me, it was an incredible treat. Gregory was kind, one of the kindest men I knew. And Dixie...well, she was an artist through and through. She had been born into Southern gentry to a family that still had a plantation. The best part of southern grace and manners survived in her - her charm and wit and positive, bubbly outlook on life buoyed me up many times. No one could be sad or down in her presence - she was even laughing the day after her second cancer surgery 20 years ago when she was approaching 70 years young. Life was just too good to be blue.

Yes, Dixie was an artist - after high school she went through intensive studies in life drawing and painting at the American Academy of Art in Chicago IL. She was a student in the place that produced artists such as Howard Terpning and Richard Schmid. Dixie's talent was great and her love of art even greater. But something finally came along which eclipsed even art in her life - the man who would later become her husband, Gregory.

Dixie painted for a while after meeting Gregory, but sadly she put her brushes aside when she became his wife. She wanted to spend her time raising children and supporting him in his very successful career. Unfortunately for her, the children never came as she suffered four miscarriages before giving up her dream of a family. Yes, she did experience tragedy and grieved, but she always came out of it vibrant and alive.

Dixie and Gregory met my parents in the mid 1950s and stayed friends for decades. My parents were from blue collar and farm stock - they led fairly simple lives and didn't go in for much culture or learning. How the two couples managed to stay friends is anyone's guess. No one from either of my parents' families had gone to college. Art and culture were only something for rich folk, not us. My parents tried to raise me in the only mold they knew - that of a young Catholic girl whose lot in life was to marry and have babies. I knew from a young age that wasn't for me. So did Dixie! I think she and Gregory got it into their brains that in some way, my siblings and I were her surrogate kids and took us under their wings. How lucky were we to have a second set of "parents" as amazing as them.

From the time I was very young, Dixie encouraged me to follow both my artistic and intellectual passions. She showed me the paintings she had produced before setting aside her brushes - they were the first real oil paintings I'd ever seen, and they utterly fascinated me! I couldn't believe that someone could paint a beautiful landscape like hers with just a few colors and a couple of brushes. In my mind I can still see myself at age 5, standing in front of her painting of Moraine Lake and the snowy peaks of the Canadian Rockies, eyes trying to understand each color change and brushstroke. How did she paint SNOW? What color is that cliff face? How did she make water look like water?

My life had just shifted.

As I grew, Dixie and Gregory both encouraged me to do what I loved - paint. They recognized not only a talent, but a desire to do and be more than my parents could envision. It was Dixie's encouragement that prompted me to study at the American Academy of Art, following in her footsteps some 40 years after she paved the way. And after the Academy, she encouraged me to get a college degree, following in the footsteps of her husband. In some ways, I am more their daughter than my parents' child. I share Dixie's and Gregory's love of art and culture and learning and travel. I can only hope I have soaked up some of her genuine charm and grace. And I certainly share her positive outlook on life.

My life would not be even a shadow of what it is now without Dixie's presence. She taught me to be a strong, confident woman AND lady at the same time - the two are not mutually exclusive. She taught me that grace and manners and beauty should always be cultivated in my life. She taught me that culture, art, and creativity truly were important in the grand scheme of things. And she also taught me to never give up my art, the essence of who I am, for a man - it was a decision I think she partially regretted in her own life. The right man would not demand that from me...and I should not offer it for it would deny a large part of my Self.

I recently learned that Dixie, now approaching 90 years of age, is having a battle retrieving her memories. Alzheimer's is now taking its toll. Her personality is slowly being stolen by a disease we still don't really understand. But while this is very sad news for Dixie, Gregory, and all of us who have had this woman grace our lives, it's also been a strangely positive time for me. For the first time ever, I have taken large blocks of time to just reflect on how she has helped shape me into the person I am. I have been both astounded and very, very grateful. And I realized just how much she loved me, unconditionally.

This holiday season I am dedicated to celebrating and remembering Dixie and the profound influence she has had on my life. As homage to her, I am pledging myself to completing the creativity course and book that I have worked on now for the better part of a year. If I can positively influence even a few people, even a fraction of the amount she influenced me, I will feel as if my life were truly successful.

Dixie and Gregory, thank you for helping me become the person I am.

*Names changed to protect privacy

Your Unique Creative "Voice"

2010-11-26T12:52:00.000-08:00

So how can you tell a Degas from a Cassatt from a DaVinci? If you have some familiarity with art or art history, you can tell the artists' work apart by a combination of their subject matter, their technique (application), and their medium. The interesting thing is that these different factorsvo are all dependent on the uniqueness of each individual artist.

Now this doesn’t apply to just painting or sculpture. In music, think about the uniqueness of, say, Stevie Ray Vaughn, The Blind Boys of Alabama, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Madonna, Johnny Cash, Loreena McKennitt, Jerry Lee Lewis, B.B King, Bing Crosby, and Prince. Each has his or her own unique sound that is a combination of things like their voice, the instruments they play, the style of their music, volume, rhythm, and individual personalities. The point is that these are musical artists that have such a highly-developed, unique sound or auditory presence that after listening to just a couple of bars of a song, you can immediately identify them. Just seeing their name in print can make their songs start playing in your head! And just try to imagine Johnny Cash singing a Prince song – while he could sing the lyrics and play the music, it would still be a uniquely Johnny Cash song – he couldn’t sound like Prince even if he tried.

What I want you to see is the value of developing your own unique “voice” in your work. You can do it, but you need to let your intuition, your inner voice, your Spirit, or even God (if you so believe), guide you. You need to be free to let your true self out in your work. You need to be courageous enough to let your true creative voice out for all the world to see. And you need to consciously think about what it is you love, and how to bring that into your work.

In my opinion, this is the most powerful work that ever gets created – it may not be technically the most accomplished painting on the wall (although sometimes they are), but these paintings have “Soul,” “Power,” or “Presence.” You know them when you see them. They almost jump right off the wall when displayed in a group of other, more "usual" paintings. Sometimes we get emotional when viewing them.

You also need to quiet your inner critic in order to let your vision out in your art. Your inner critic is that little voice that tells you “You can’t do that” or “That will never succeed.” It’s the inner naysayer, always trying to keep you “safe” and lost in the crowd of artwork that looks the same. And you may need to ignore those very real people in your life who are telling you the same thing.

The upside of developing your Creative Voice is that your work will stand out from the other, "usual" artwork. No longer will you hear people say “just another landscape” or “just another photo” or “just another floral” about your work. By developing your own Voice, you make your work stand out and ultimately may increase your sales potential.

This post copyright Nancy Rynes, 2010. No part of this post may be reproduced in any form without written permission of Nancy Rynes.

Getting UnStuck

2010-11-21T08:56:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine who is a dancer recently asked me about how to get "unstuck" from a rut. After 10 years of almost non-stop dedication to her art, she had become slightly bored with it...certainly not as excited about it as she had once been.

She knew I'd been through this many times with my painting, each time claiming I was quitting for good but invariably returning to the brushes and paints.

What, she asked, could she do to rejuvenate her interest in her dancing?

I could only tell her some of my experiences as a painter...

Giving yourself a break often does the trick. Take a little time off to explore other interests, be with friends, travel, or just contemplate life. Don't worry - if the muse truly is calling you, your time away from your art will make you want to go back to it all the more.
Spend time with like-minded friends doing something other than your art.
Think outside of your pattern - do something different with your art. If you're a painter, try a different medium, style, or subject matter. Or try sculpting! Dancers can try different forms of dance. Mix it up a little to stay interested.
For me, taking time out to visit museums or art galleries will often shake me out of a rut. Seeing the work of other artists usually makes me want to get back to my studio and work on my own.
Have several paintings going at one time. This allows me the luxury of switching to another painting when I get bored with the one on the easel.
Challenge yourself - give yourself less time to complete a painting. Maybe you're getting bored because you're belaboring every square inch of the canvas.
Expand your mind - take a class or workshop. It doesn't have to be art-related, but it should be a topic that interests you.
Make sure you're not suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder or some sort of chronic depression. If you are, get help.

Above all, be gentle with yourself and find other creative folks to talk to. Sometimes just talking about it with a supportive friend will snap you out of it.