We plein air painters have had certain experiences and conversations in common, I believe.
One is the situation that occurs sometimes on social media or when we are actually out painting. Someone will say, "You are so talented. . ."
Another is the experience of being engaged in conversations with other artists who don't necessarily believe the same things about learning art or receiving feedback. For example, the discussion of whether good drawing is really that important to good painting. Or another is the subtle belief that judges are somehow unfair or that teachers are holding back information from students that will make the students' paintings automatic masterpieces.
These are huge topics worthy of much discussion and deep thought, and I can only touch on them and share a little of what I've been learning lately.
The last few months have been pure joy for me as an artist.
I am experiencing a watershed season of improvement and learning. The only thing I've wanted is MORE time to paint and incorporate all I've learned. Which is one reason writing occasional blog entries is so helpful to me (and I hope to you).
Somehow, writing helps process my visual learning by holding me accountable to follow through with things I know I need to work on when I'm actually at the easel.
Friends and family who follow me on social media and artist friends who see my paintings in the field KNOW my paintings, the good ones and the not-so-good ones. They see my progress and can discern whether I'm improving or not.
It is my wish that non-artists understand my point of view about "talent" and what it is, and what it's not. I want my friends and family to understand why I sometimes seem hard on myself. I see different things when I look at my work than you do.
Three beliefs I have with regard to learning art, specifically painting:
"Talent exists simply as an inclination toward visual activity"
It is wonderful to have and to see talent in others, but it is not the most important thing to an artist. If you discover you have innate talent for solving visual problems, "Yay, you!" But you will still have to learn your craft and practice. And if you don't really believe you have "Talent-with-a-capital-T" and you let this stop you from enjoying making art, then you have been defeated by your own thinking. Stop it, NOW! :)
I was in a drawing workshop one time when the teacher said, "You can achieve any art dream by committing to drawing training at least 4 days a week." After which there were participants who wanted to argue against the statement and went away disappointed because improvement was not mysterious or magical and would simply take work.
"Teachers don't hold back their own understandings from their students"
If a teacher doesn't teach something, it's because they are still working out that particular lesson for themselves, or they have a faulty belief about what the student needs. Perhaps, even with good understanding of what the student must know and do, they still aren't able to effectively express what they know to the student. This can happen for a variety of reasons. The student may not be ready for the lesson. The process of explaining a visual solution in words can be a challenge for a teacher. But good teachers (and good judges) want their students to learn everything they know.
I have three books by Kevin MacPherson. I just started READING them about a year ago. Yes, the written content MATTERS. The words, not just his awesome paintings, are a GOLD MINE of great information. I've heard artists say, "Yeah, I have one of his books, and I looked through it" I want to scream, "READ it. Read it all. And do all the demos."
Creating art is hard. It takes time to learn. (This is what makes it so utterly satisfying, btw.) But art is NOT a mystery. Kevin MacPherson, and every other artist who spends time and effort creating an instructional book, puts information in there that is meant to be received and absorbed and incorporated into the learners routines. Don't ignore the material, put down the book and then be disappointed you didn't learn from it. If you read it all, and you still don't respond to the material, then the writer/teacher didn't say the lesson in a way you could hear it. That's OK. So get a different book. Save the first one for a later time.
I have also found that judges are also willing to help you understand why they scored your work as they did. I have mature artist friends who regularly ask judges for a short critique on their work. One time, about a year ago, when I heard a friend ask for feedback at a contest, I was taken aback. I didn't feel confident at that time to ask for critique of any kind. But no more.
Last week I was at a contest called Brushes-by-the-Beach in Galveston, Texas. I knew I had at least one painting that could possibly win at least a low ribbon, or "honorable mention." But it was not to be. The judge told all of us she'd be happy to give feedback, and I decided to ask. If you want the feedback, you have to ask! And I trusted this particular judge to give me helpful insight.
We were right in front of one of my paintings while she talked with that artist, so I waited my turn. I could tell the artist had trouble receiving, perhaps didn't quite understand, the feedback. (Hat's off to this artist for even asking in the first place.) This particular artist had definite strengths in her work, but needed seasoning with more time at the easel to develop the talent she had. Perhaps she was surprised at the critique, which I thought was accurate. I hope that lady will continue with her art. I'd like to think she'll paint more and improve.
Then it was my turn. It so happens that one stroke kept me out of ribbon contention. You see that little line at the bottom that looks like a backwards J? Why couldn't I have just smudged that out? It was supposed to suggest a walkway to the gate, between the bushes. But it was unnecessary! I noticed it, briefly, felt uneasy about it, but didn't change anything. Lesson learned.
Next time I'll check my work.
This one of a crypt in a cemetery was lacking a clear focal point. The statue in front was supposed to be the focal point, but I made everyting else in the painting of equal importance. As if I'm saying to the viewer, "Look how well I can paint every single thing within the frame. . ." It was unnecessary. Why couldn't I use several tools in my tool belt to weaken other areas so that focal point stood out more? I could have dulled down the color in the background. I could have smudged the edges of objects farther away, for example the crypt on the left behind the main one. Again, lesson learned. Do what's best for the painting, then stop and check my work.
I did not win any awards last week in Galveston, but I consider it a personal victory that I was able to ask for critique. I intend to remember the feedback and use it going forward.
"What you believe you must do to succeed as a painter is extremely important"
Thoughts and beliefs drive actions. For example, drawing is an essential skill, a foundation, for good painting. I also believe drawing training is essential for keeping skills high.
I know artists who don't believe drawing is important at all to painting. This doesn't make sense to me. When I hear a fellow artist say this, I say I believe the opposite, that drawing is mega-important, and then I let it drop. It's not productive to keep arguing. But then I watch these artists, some of whom are teachers. They reinforce the faulty (in my opinion) belief that drawing is not important with their own students. Then they wonder why their work doesn't win prizes in progressively more challenging environments. Maybe then they complain to organzers of events that the winners of the events were awarded unfairly. (My social anxiety goes through the roof when I hear about these things.) And it's all so unnecessary. It stems from a faulty belief that has not been corrected. And it's a waste. An otherwise "talented" artist has wasted his or her (sometimes considerable) talent by avoiding some aspect of learning because of a faulty belief. And perhaps led others astray as well. SMH.
Here is a quote that has helped me from one of my artist favorites, Walt Gonske, master plein air painter and Taos artist. This came from the bio on his artist website:
Peace,
Judi
One is the situation that occurs sometimes on social media or when we are actually out painting. Someone will say, "You are so talented. . ."
Another is the experience of being engaged in conversations with other artists who don't necessarily believe the same things about learning art or receiving feedback. For example, the discussion of whether good drawing is really that important to good painting. Or another is the subtle belief that judges are somehow unfair or that teachers are holding back information from students that will make the students' paintings automatic masterpieces.
These are huge topics worthy of much discussion and deep thought, and I can only touch on them and share a little of what I've been learning lately.
The last few months have been pure joy for me as an artist.
I am experiencing a watershed season of improvement and learning. The only thing I've wanted is MORE time to paint and incorporate all I've learned. Which is one reason writing occasional blog entries is so helpful to me (and I hope to you).
Somehow, writing helps process my visual learning by holding me accountable to follow through with things I know I need to work on when I'm actually at the easel.
Friends and family who follow me on social media and artist friends who see my paintings in the field KNOW my paintings, the good ones and the not-so-good ones. They see my progress and can discern whether I'm improving or not.
It is my wish that non-artists understand my point of view about "talent" and what it is, and what it's not. I want my friends and family to understand why I sometimes seem hard on myself. I see different things when I look at my work than you do.
Three beliefs I have with regard to learning art, specifically painting:
"Talent exists simply as an inclination toward visual activity"
It is wonderful to have and to see talent in others, but it is not the most important thing to an artist. If you discover you have innate talent for solving visual problems, "Yay, you!" But you will still have to learn your craft and practice. And if you don't really believe you have "Talent-with-a-capital-T" and you let this stop you from enjoying making art, then you have been defeated by your own thinking. Stop it, NOW! :)
I was in a drawing workshop one time when the teacher said, "You can achieve any art dream by committing to drawing training at least 4 days a week." After which there were participants who wanted to argue against the statement and went away disappointed because improvement was not mysterious or magical and would simply take work.
"Teachers don't hold back their own understandings from their students"
If a teacher doesn't teach something, it's because they are still working out that particular lesson for themselves, or they have a faulty belief about what the student needs. Perhaps, even with good understanding of what the student must know and do, they still aren't able to effectively express what they know to the student. This can happen for a variety of reasons. The student may not be ready for the lesson. The process of explaining a visual solution in words can be a challenge for a teacher. But good teachers (and good judges) want their students to learn everything they know.
I have three books by Kevin MacPherson. I just started READING them about a year ago. Yes, the written content MATTERS. The words, not just his awesome paintings, are a GOLD MINE of great information. I've heard artists say, "Yeah, I have one of his books, and I looked through it" I want to scream, "READ it. Read it all. And do all the demos."
Creating art is hard. It takes time to learn. (This is what makes it so utterly satisfying, btw.) But art is NOT a mystery. Kevin MacPherson, and every other artist who spends time and effort creating an instructional book, puts information in there that is meant to be received and absorbed and incorporated into the learners routines. Don't ignore the material, put down the book and then be disappointed you didn't learn from it. If you read it all, and you still don't respond to the material, then the writer/teacher didn't say the lesson in a way you could hear it. That's OK. So get a different book. Save the first one for a later time.
I have also found that judges are also willing to help you understand why they scored your work as they did. I have mature artist friends who regularly ask judges for a short critique on their work. One time, about a year ago, when I heard a friend ask for feedback at a contest, I was taken aback. I didn't feel confident at that time to ask for critique of any kind. But no more.
Last week I was at a contest called Brushes-by-the-Beach in Galveston, Texas. I knew I had at least one painting that could possibly win at least a low ribbon, or "honorable mention." But it was not to be. The judge told all of us she'd be happy to give feedback, and I decided to ask. If you want the feedback, you have to ask! And I trusted this particular judge to give me helpful insight.
We were right in front of one of my paintings while she talked with that artist, so I waited my turn. I could tell the artist had trouble receiving, perhaps didn't quite understand, the feedback. (Hat's off to this artist for even asking in the first place.) This particular artist had definite strengths in her work, but needed seasoning with more time at the easel to develop the talent she had. Perhaps she was surprised at the critique, which I thought was accurate. I hope that lady will continue with her art. I'd like to think she'll paint more and improve.
Then it was my turn. It so happens that one stroke kept me out of ribbon contention. You see that little line at the bottom that looks like a backwards J? Why couldn't I have just smudged that out? It was supposed to suggest a walkway to the gate, between the bushes. But it was unnecessary! I noticed it, briefly, felt uneasy about it, but didn't change anything. Lesson learned.
Next time I'll check my work.
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| Link to the Bryan Museum Website |
This one of a crypt in a cemetery was lacking a clear focal point. The statue in front was supposed to be the focal point, but I made everyting else in the painting of equal importance. As if I'm saying to the viewer, "Look how well I can paint every single thing within the frame. . ." It was unnecessary. Why couldn't I use several tools in my tool belt to weaken other areas so that focal point stood out more? I could have dulled down the color in the background. I could have smudged the edges of objects farther away, for example the crypt on the left behind the main one. Again, lesson learned. Do what's best for the painting, then stop and check my work.
I did not win any awards last week in Galveston, but I consider it a personal victory that I was able to ask for critique. I intend to remember the feedback and use it going forward.
"What you believe you must do to succeed as a painter is extremely important"
Thoughts and beliefs drive actions. For example, drawing is an essential skill, a foundation, for good painting. I also believe drawing training is essential for keeping skills high.
I know artists who don't believe drawing is important at all to painting. This doesn't make sense to me. When I hear a fellow artist say this, I say I believe the opposite, that drawing is mega-important, and then I let it drop. It's not productive to keep arguing. But then I watch these artists, some of whom are teachers. They reinforce the faulty (in my opinion) belief that drawing is not important with their own students. Then they wonder why their work doesn't win prizes in progressively more challenging environments. Maybe then they complain to organzers of events that the winners of the events were awarded unfairly. (My social anxiety goes through the roof when I hear about these things.) And it's all so unnecessary. It stems from a faulty belief that has not been corrected. And it's a waste. An otherwise "talented" artist has wasted his or her (sometimes considerable) talent by avoiding some aspect of learning because of a faulty belief. And perhaps led others astray as well. SMH.
Here is a quote that has helped me from one of my artist favorites, Walt Gonske, master plein air painter and Taos artist. This came from the bio on his artist website:
"All I can do is make an honest effort and then accept without judgement. To remain neutral about the painting and to not judge them as good or bad is very important to moving forward." From Walt Gonske WebsiteWords like "judge" and "good" or "bad" are loaded with multiple meanings. We need our teachers and our "judges" because the application of accurate learning, much more than talent, is the thing artists need to grow and improve.
Peace,
Judi
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