Meet the Artist : Canvas Rebel Interview

I can say without hesitation that I gained substantial basic knowledge about the craft of drawing through countless hours of solitary practice. This began early on in childhood and has followed me ever since. Drawing gave me a way to express myself when I didn’t know how to do so otherwise. As far back as I can remember I was enamored with the experience of seeing an image come to life on the page. I drew all the time. In fifth grade, my art teacher gave me a sketchbook and it changed my life. Drawings that had been scattered, disordered and exposed became ordered, collected and private. Sketchbook work allowed me to explore and grow as both a person and an artist in safety and privacy. Today my studio shelves are packed with sketchbooks chronicling my growth and exploration.

Through the years I spent working primarily in sketchbooks I gained a wealth of hands-on experience. I think this is vital to learning any craft. Without knowing it or even really intending it, the time and energy spent with my sketchbooks meant that I became a pretty solid draftsperson. But as you might suspect, cultivating a set of skills in near isolation has its drawbacks. I had used drawing as a path for personal healing. As that healing took root, small works and sketchbooks became confining and limiting. My work wanted to be bigger and bolder, it wanted to be shared. As my work expanded and I began to put it out in the world, the gaps in my skills and knowledge became obvious to me. The problems were clear but the solutions were not. I needed help.

I tried a few local classes and teachers but nothing clicked until I discovered an amazing book by Charles Bargue. This book is from the mid 19th century and details the teaching methods and images from the French Classical Atelier tradition. It was instrumental in training many of the finest, modern masters including Picasso and VanGogh. I purchased the book and embarked on a deep dive into the careful cultivation of drawing skills. It wasn’t until I got about half way through the book that I began to realize that although the book provided instruction, there was no way to receive all the course had to offer without the feedback and guidance of a master teacher. I began looking for someone who could help me.

Luckily there was a small art school about an hour and a half from me. I began attending right away. We worked in the classical french atelier tradition. This meant working exclusively through observation (in the case of the live model and still life set ups) and imitation (in the case of Bargue studies). Now I had the feedback and advice of a trusted teacher as well as the other artists in the atelier. Coming out of isolation and moving into a learning environment and creative community had its own challenges but as I adjusted my work flourished.

Over the course of these studies I was surprised and delighted to find that the time and effort put into imitation and observation began to solidify my skills. Talking through concepts and ideas with my teacher and fellow students gave shape to knowledge that had been entirely experiential and unworded for me before. I began to see and understand where my work needed to be shored up and how I might approach solving those problems. In the classroom, I saw my work among the work of many talented artists and could recognize that it stood up well. I gained both skills and confidence that I couldn’t have acquired on my own.

For anyone interested in pursuing excellence in a craft I would suggest time spent pursuing both these avenues. Nothing beats time spent practicing. But beyond that, finding a teacher and a supportive creative environment where you can get honest and helpful feedback to grow your skills is absolutely priceless.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

I am a process based artist with a mission to create honest, engaging, emotive work. For me this means being sensitive to inspirations, small and large, and exploring them to the fullest. Whether I am drawing, painting or sculpting, my primary intention in my work is to be open to the work itself. I try to make myself available to the communication that comes from the work and engage with it as it evolves and clarifies. It is an extremely interesting and exciting way to work because it tends to open up so many surprising avenues for exploration. There is something terrifying and exciting when what my work requires of me is beyond my current capabilities. I love feeling that as I am creating and honing my work, my work is also changing and expanding me.

Overall, the work that has emerged from this process leans toward diversity and expansion rather than being stylistically specific and cohesive. Different bodies of work can and do evolve along separate tracks. Inspiration will lead me down a (personally) untrodden path where the work itself is the proof of the treasures found there. Some recent series include: monochromatic winter woodlands, gestural feminine sculptures, limited palette coastal oil paintings, abstract circular mandalas and figures drawings and polish folk mobiles. A few currently evolving bodies of work include a mixed media series exploring the Dust Bowl Era, a series of large scale figurative oil paintings centered around the feminine experience of shadow and more works the continuing exploration of the human form in clay. 

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

For me, the most rewarding part of being an artist is the opportunity to make surprising new connections. This happens all the time in the exploration of the creative practice itself. We might take a new class, explore a new material, use familiar materials in a new way, learn a new technique, or “invent” a new process. Maybe we collect and combine disparate images, ideas or materials. Perhaps we let go and allow wild or destructive impulses to emerge and make their mark. These practices can and do lead to surprising connections. To me, making the space for these new connections to manifest is central to a creative practice.

But beyond work in the studio, the art itself can cultivate surprising connections. Some of my most treasured experiences have been listening to patrons, clients and friends talk about the connections that my work elicits in them. Art work can evoke thoughts, memories and ideas but I think that the primary mode of the visual arts is through the evocation of emotion. Our existence is steeped with emotion from our first day to our last. It is art that gives us a chance to see and feel and experience our deepest emotions both directly and with a little distance.

When these new connections emerge – whether it is within my artistic practice, or as someone falls in love with a piece- they feel sacred and important. They seem to say that we are all on this human journey together, figuring it out as we go. It is my favorite aspect of being an artist because it feels the most vibrant, alive, mysterious and meaningful.

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

I think that the primary lesson I have had to unlearn in order to really embark on my artistic career was that I had to “do it all on my own”. The idea of independence and self reliance is useful in the right amount but too much of it inevitably leads to stagnation. I spent may years stuck (making work but not selling work) because I thought that being a real artist meant creating in isolation. There was an idea that this would somehow make my work more authentic, but I think that the truth underlying it was that I was defensive and afraid. Being connected and open with other people would mean feeling vulnerable and exposed. The lie of independence protected me from facing those fears but it also made it impossible for me to share my work and succeed.

It’s been a long road to untangle this lesson but it has been worth it. The past few years have been rich in connection building for me. I took a risk and joined an artist studio and have found a warm, supportive community there. I have taken some excellent classes that have given me a chance not only to hone and cultivate technical skills but also get to know so many wonderful artists and teachers, They have provided insight into my work and shown me things I couldn’t see. Being in a community of artists means that we have a chance to create, struggle and work alongside one another. Being an artist is hard! The struggle is real! But having a tapestry of connections (creative friends, casual online friends, fellow artists, classmates, teachers, studio mates, mentors, clients, art appreciators, friends) means we need not struggle alone. The people I have met have helped to opened doors for me to share my work with the world. And having these connections, I can make connections that help others. It’s what makes the world go round.

For anyone struggling as I was with an inherited story about having to “make it on your own”, I encourage you to question it. You don’t have to wait in limbo as long as I did, wondering why your hard work isn’t working. Balance your practice. Commit to yourself, your vision and your work AND cultivate a community that will support you and allow you to support others. This world needs absolutely every artist it can get, living as fully and successfully as possible. Art is life!