When I first left the studio to pursue plein air several years ago I would look for a variety of subject. Real variety. In the course of events I might paint a winding road, a lone tree, a bicycle, two old men in a diner, a summer lake at sunset, a tractor in the barn, a cow, a fence row – anything that caught my fancy. I ended up with a lot of mediocre paintings that had nothing to do with each other. My world was already full of mediocre paintings and I certainly didn’t need to add to that pile. They lacked verisimilitude. Veracity. I didn’t know any of my subjects well enough to communicate my vision.
In my former life as a studio photographer I created reality from pretty much nothing every single day. I once had a client come to me saying he needed an image to illustrate a wholesome breakfast. To him this was an oversized muffin and a hot cup of joe. This was the 80s and that was pretty much a healthy diet in those days. So I gathered the props and baked up some blueberry muffins. A dozen muffins gave me one very nice example; not perfect but near so. Blueberries everywhere. I sliced it in half, placed it on a white saucer, then laid on a square of butter softened just enough to say piping hot. This was flanked by a fabric napkin (light blue), a diner type butter knife (generic, but proud), a cup of black coffee (very black with a small grouping of bubbles to say ’fresh, fresh, fresh!’) and a check from the waitress marked ‘Thanks, come again, Becky!”
I shot this on 8×10 transparency film, processed the image, and then delivered it to the client. He looked it over and said, ‘Boom! That’s it. Love it! And my favorite thing… the little pile of crumbs on the plate under the muffin. That screams verisimilitude”.
Yes, verisimilitude – the appearance of being true.
Well, the whole thing was dripping with verisimilitude. It had everything that read reality – the right props, the right angle of view, the right amount of selective focus, and the right lighting for a morning sunrise. It had story. He had it right to single out the crumbs because in the end it is the detail that made the illusion hold up. Without those crumbs, it would all have been sterile and certainly less convincing.
That experience has stayed with me and I think of it as I make paintings. To pull off a representational image one needs to have verisimilitude – a judicious and efficient use of details. If there is enough information to allow the viewer to relax and understand the point of view then the artist can play with how that image is presented, and do it with abandon.
Drawing is a big deal; Probably more important than anything else. Without a good foundational drawing representational imagery falls apart and doesn’t hold veracity. No one believes it. A poorly drawn building, or old tractor, etc. can quickly devolve into a cartoon version of itself.
Drawing is mark making that describes how objects fit in space. Line work – thick and thin – can tell the story on shadow and highlight. Edges, real or implied, depend on line. My preliminary drawing is generally loose but heavy on perspective issues. I can move things around easily to get the composition worked out. As the piece develops I come back and re-establish my lines and edges. You know, build the edges, knock ’em down, and rebuild. But that structure, that foundational structure, needs to be there throughout. If I have a painting that just doesn’t work it is almost always because the drawing has no interest or is just flat out wrong.
When I go out into the field I look for the unusual point of view. Everything has perspective whether figure, landscape, or still life and that needs to constantly be heeded in the building of the image. If that perspective is accurately built into the foundation one can hang paint all day long on the thing. Monumentality is all in point of view. Angles – find angles that pull the eye into the composition. And if possible, exaggerate those angles. Stretch the thing and make it dynamic. I look for ways to distort without a noticeable distortion.
I paint a lot of vintage cars these days. I can’t tell you a lick about engines; my brain doesn’t go that way, but I do dearly love the look of an old car, particularly those that have gone to seed. They are such wonderful still life subjects with almost universal appeal. It’s my ‘go-to’ thing to paint.
I recently had a solo show. I wanted a cohesive series of work that would tell a story as well as showcase my interests and vision. So it was cars. I had over 40 plein air paintings of cars. I edited this group down to a manageable number and then fleshed out the rest of the wall space with larger studio paintings done from photos, and field studies. What I came to realize in the course of things was that I was developing a comfort level with my subject that freed me to put more energy in the way I put marks on the page. And that is really my thing, anyway.
I’m a process guy. I came of age when DeKooning, Rauschenberg, and Jasper Johns were still making stuff. Those guys knew how to throw paint and create new ways of seeing art. Put it down, scrape it off, and do it again. Abstract Expressionism is a long way from the direct observation of plein air but the mark making should not be dismissed. If the drawing is sound then the mark making process can run through the clover and give us new ways to see the world in front of us.
The point of all of this is to know your subject. Know it inside and out in the same way you might know a piece of music. Own it with confidence. Your viewer will appreciate it. They won’t know why. They’ll start with a comfort level that keeps them engaged with the image. They’ll get it – and then they’ll want to dive in for the good stuff.
Archives for November 2018
More Stuff I Wish Someone Had Told Me
Since then a few more thoughts have bubbled up.
1. It’s Hard
Nothing new here. I start every workshop by saying ‘painting is hard’. I love the Tom Hanks ‘it’s hard’ scene from A League Of Their Own when he states, “It’s supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard everyone would do it”.
2. It’s All Work
I used to stress about time away from the easel. Travel, shipping, framing, corresponding, photographing work and getting it out there, going to galleries and museums, visiting artist friend’s studios.… these things used to make me feel like time was being wasted. Then I had the glorious revelation that it’s all work.
This mishmash is what makes us artists, so just do these things well and enjoy each one. Hopefully with this acceptance comes a winnowing process to realize what it takes to be the most effective artist we can be. I have read that Norman Rockwell painted virtually every day, even Christmas. How he amassed such a deep level of human interest and understanding is beyond me. Genius is the likely explanation. We mortals have to actually take the time to interact, be places, see things, and get to the easel as much as we can.
3. Craft vs. Emotion
As we learn, it is natural to be proud of our skills, and push to develop them more. Think of a pianist who can fly through scales. The thing is, that is not very interesting to anyone!
To stay with the music analogy, a heartfelt Moonlight Sonata or Rhapsody In Blue or Let It Be can bring us to tears. Not because of craft. Because of emotion.
For people to deeply relate to our work they need an emotional connection along with skill. Of course each of us has to find that balance. No one is interested in a Moonlight Sonata with stops and starts and off notes and such (unless it is a near relative playing). Here the analogy slips. Note the strong interest in Folk Art, where the artists have little or no training. In painting, sometimes emotion connects more than craft.
Craft is important. And with visual art I do think people are impressed with great skill. But the greatest work finds a way for viewers to connect on an emotional level. That could be joy, serenity, shared interest, sorrow, passion… whatever. This is ‘unity’ and it can be sensed in any art form in a nanosecond. To see this in action, watch Susan Boyle singing the song from Les Miserables on Britain’s Got Talent.
Ok, this is not new information either. I have been in groups like this on and off since the ‘80s. But if you had told me when we started nearly four years ago that our Wednesday Night Head Study Sessions would have so many benefits I would have been skeptical.
We paint a different sitter for three hours each week, and our skills have improved, our travel kits (a must!) are complete, we’ve grown so close, met so many interesting people of all ages and backgrounds, discussed so many things… I could go on. This, in a town of 1700 people, in a county of 20,000. You may have more than that in your neighborhood! So please, just do it! Paint from life with friends once a week, whether it’s portrait, still life, or landscape.
You can read more on our group and some practical tips on getting started here.
5. Travel Kit
Mine is a traditional French easel (Creative Mark Safari 2, around $100) slightly modified so I can stand or occasionally sit, a palette, odorless mineral spirits, viva paper towels, an artist’s umbrella, and large tubes of the paint. This is always in my car, with a great LED light and stand, which works with rechargeable batteries or plugs in.
Happy painting, and may we all keep learning and growing each day we’re lucky enough to be artists!
PS- You can read the first installment of Stuff I Wish Someone Had Told Me here.
OPA Buyers and Collectors
I recently wrote a blog titled ‘So You Want To Host A Plein Air Event,’ in which I identified the three required components of a successful event: Artists, Organizers, and Buyers. Similar to a three-legged-stools, without one of these components the stool falls over. Of the three, Buyers/Collectors is the one most often neglected. Attracting buyers and developing collectors takes a little more effort; takes a little education, not unlike developing a taste for fine wine or cigars.
Wes Heitzman, a good friend and one of the key organizers of the amazingly successful Bluff Strokes Plein Air Event in Dubuque, IA, wrote an insightful article from the point of view of a Collector. I think this article will go a long way towards that education and have an eye-opening impact on Organizers, Artists, and future Art Owners alike.
I bought my first piece of art from Steve Steininger, at Dubuque Senior High, during our graduating year of 1967. Senior had a great art department and some excellent student artists, and my mother had advised me that a good way to start an art collection would be to buy from student artist friends. “Me Bird” is a woodcut in red and brown tones. It is a quirky depiction of a man wearing what first appears to be a large helmet, but on further inspection is a large mass of feathers. Looking very closely, 3 faces of birds reveal themselves hidden among the feathers. I loved this work for its cleverness, its skill of execution, and that it was the creation of a good friend. I still remember my teenage pride when I picked it up from the frame shop in a professional-looking wooden frame with high quality, non-reflective glass. “Me Bird” has accompanied me for 50 years, gracing dorm room walls, and then living rooms, bedrooms, and dens of various abodes through my life. Today, in my home office, it still elicits fond remembrances and a smile.
I will come back to “Me Bird” in a bit, but here are a few reasons to favor your home with original art. First, just like you, an original work of art is unique – there are no other versions out there, you will not walk into a friend’s house and see an identical copy, it will be an extension of your unique personality. Second, an artist producing original works uses better materials than are used in reproductions. Look closely at a pastel, oil, or watercolor painting – at the layering, the texture, the interaction with the underlying paper or canvas; a reproduction will use cheaper inks and paper and will appear flatter than a work of fine art. And yes, you will respond to this differently on your wall. The same goes for a handcrafted pot vs a manufactured one; and though I love pottery, I’ll focus here on things you can hang. A third consideration is value.
In general, a unique work will hold some level of value, and possibly a chance of significant gain, whereas a mass produced work will have little to no resale value. It can be rewarding to find individual works or to create a collection with investment value. This requires research, strategy, and networking into a world of professional dealers; but I would like to focus here on adding value to our lives.
A work of art is a conversation; an expression of an experience an artist is having with the world. When you bring a piece of art into your life, you participate in that conversation. Roy Haught was an art teacher and also a hunter, camper, and outdoorsman. His work explores and reflects those interests. I have a watercolor of Roy’s that depicts a row of conifers along the crest of a hill. For years, I drove by a similar row of trees on the way to work in Waterloo. After we hung Roy’s painting in our home, I started seeing those trees when I drove by. We have a small painting by Ellen Wagener of a pale pastel blue sky above a very low horizon. I once was driving in western Iowa to the funeral of an aunt, looked out over the fields, and saw that sky – because of Ellen’s directing my perception. These experiences were profound. I have many times watched my wife, Barbara, a pastel artist, go into a “zone” as she explores a still life or landscape and translates it to her media. This experience is shared by artists everywhere as they converse with their world. When you buy an original artwork for your home you are sharing in their experience and their conversation.
Recent research in neuroscience suggests we have two “systems” of thinking. System 1 works in background, monitoring the world, capturing impressions, checking for strange or threatening events, and throwing out intuitive judgments and responses. System 2 is engaged when analysis or self-control are needed. This research has transformed economic decision theory; but relevant to how we relate to art is what it has revealed in how we store and retrieve memories. System 1 maintains a vast system of associative memory. When we encounter a word or image, a ripple of associated ideas, images, and memories is evoked without us even being aware. These influence and bend our current thoughts. If you are asked to fill in the blank letters in “S _ _ P” you are likely to write SOUP if you have recently been discussing cooking, SOAP if cleaning. Words and images you encounter even affect your moods and behaviors; you will walk slower and stoop a little more if you have been discussing aging than if you have been talking about running. All of this means that when you look at a work of art in your home, a flood of associated memories will enter your mind, affecting your thoughts and your mood without your even being aware.
With that in mind, the act of purchasing an original art is often a personal adventure. We purchase in interesting galleries, at art fairs and special openings, sometimes even in an artist’s own studio. We may meet the artist, glimpse how she sees the world, see something a little differently through her eyes. All of this is evoked in your associative memory every time you look up and see your artwork. Art you put in your home will continue to enrich your life in a way that mass-produced art from IKEA or Pottery Barn cannot.
“Me Bird” has continued to provide a smile in my life and has been joined by many other pieces. Each carries its own history and memories. Each has added joy and richness to my life. I recently talked to a young friend, Jennifer, who had just bought her first piece of original art. “Cleo” is a large colored pencil drawing of a hog she and her husband Aaron commissioned from Hana Tysver Velde. It now hangs in their living room over their couch. Jennifer’s comments: “We love it because it’s beautiful and well done and it’s unique – no one else has it. It also has meaning. For Aaron, it symbolizes his family heritage growing up on a hog farm, and for me, it doubles as a symbol of our life together in Iowa.” I asked Jennifer how it felt to have a piece of original art in her home. “Pretty friggin cool!
Some notes on getting started collecting. I have noticed that one of the biggest impediments people wanting to buy art is self-doubt. They don’t think they have an eye for quality. They don’t know what is a fair price. A little self-education will build confidence. Here are some thoughts to get started:
- Learn about the arts community in your town/city. What artists are working around you, what are the area art events, what galleries are in the area? Extend this out to neighboring communities within easy travel distance.
- Get familiar. Walk into galleries and studios, browse, and note what really pops out at you. Ask about the artists, where they are from, what is interesting about them.
- Attend art openings. Meet some of the artists and get to know their work. You also get free snacks!
- Go to art fairs and festivals, plein air events. Artists sell their work direct in a fun outdoor market environment. Talk to them!
- From all of these interactions, develop a feeling of what you like and dislike. Take a chance, buy a piece, hang it, and ask yourself what distinguishes it from that Pottery Barn reproduction.
- Look for opportunities to buy art within your budget. For us, many Christmas gifts have been artworks that we gave each other as a joint gift.
Overcome the #1 Obstacle to Art Sales By Building Your Own Art Marketing Flywheel
Why creating your own art marketing flywheel is crucial to the success of your art career.
As the Chief Marketing Office for BoldBrush and FASO, I’ve had the privilege to work with hundreds of professional artists over the years. In that time I’ve met many artists who struggle to sell their art, and others who seem to have no problem selling their art as soon as it’s available for sale. As I dug into why some artists seem to succeed while others struggle, it was not surprising to find that the reasons behind this difference had almost entirely to do with the artist’s approach to marketing.
The successful artists that I worked with had learned how to build what I call an art marketing flywheel that had a transformative effect on their art careers. It helped them to sell their art on a regular basis and provided the financial stability that they needed to keep them focused on growing their art careers. Before I explain what I mean by an art marketing flywheel, it’s important that I introduce you to some marketing principles that will help explain why it’s so important for you to build this important tool.
The first principle that I’d like to discuss with you is what I call The 99% Rule. This rule states that 99% of the time when you meet a collector in the real world, they are simply not ready to buy your art. There’s a good chance that they will buy a piece of art sometime in the next 3-6 months, but no matter what you say or do they won’t buy from you now.
The second principle that I’d like to discuss is a corollary to The 99% Rule, and is called The Rule of Seven. This rule states that no matter what it is that you sell, it typically takes an average of 7 meaningful interactions with your brand in order to turn a prospect into a customer.
When you put these two rules together, it begins to paint a picture of why so many artists feel frustrated and discouraged by the direction of their art careers. It explains, for example, why many artists feel frustrated when they put on an exhibit or attend an art fair and end up selling very little art. No wonder, that’s The 99% Rule at work. It also explains why marketing channels like search advertising can be so expensive and ineffective for artists. One interaction through a Google search, for example, is not likely going to convince a collector to buy your art. Also, the cost of reaching that collector through Google search seven times is prohibitively expensive. That’s The Rule of Seven at work.
Now that you understand how these two important principles of marketing can work against you, let’s talk about how you can overcome them both by building your own art marketing flywheel. In engineering, a flywheel is a heavy revolving wheel in a machine that is used to increase the machine’s momentum. An art marketing flywheel is an approach to marketing your art that’s specifically designed to overcome The 99% Rule and The Rule of Seven by building marketing momentum over time. The hub of the art marketing flywheel and what makes it work so effectively is email newsletter marketing. Everything else that you may do that’s marketing related all becomes about getting qualified collectors to sign up for your email newsletter. The image below illustrates how this works.
Now I know what you’re thinking. Email is an old technology. It’s been around forever. Why is it so central to creating my own art marketing flywheel? Why not try something newer like social media or video advertising? Here are three reasons why this approach is so effective:
Email newsletter marketing is a channel that you completely own. No one can take it away from you. With other marketing channels like search engine marketing or social media, the rules often change. This makes it harder and more expensive to stay in touch with your audience enough times to overcome The Rule of Seven.
Email newsletter marketing is extremely inexpensive. Essentially, all it costs you is the time it takes to produce relevant content for your collectors. That makes it realistic for just about any artist to affordably stay connected with their collectors until they are ready to buy.
People have formed a habit of checking their email all the time. In a recent study, people where found to check their inbox over 50 times a day. That’s more frequent then they check social media, and way more frequent then they tend to visit websites and blogs. Because of this, collectors are almost guaranteed to read your newsletter, helping you to keep top of mind with them until they are ready to buy.
Success in email newsletter marketing boils down to two things, namely building your email list and producing a steady stream of relevant and interesting content. In my next post I’ll share a step-by-step checklist that you can use to get your email newsletter off of the ground and start building your own powerful art marketing flywheel.