Artist of the Month

Artist of the Month: Marion W. Hylton: Moving Easily Among Media

American Artist — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 13:03:00 GMT

Gainesville, Florida, artist Marion W. Hylton is adept at oil, masterful in watercolor, and award-winning in pastel.

High Water
2006, pastel, 19 x 26.
Collection the artist.
Best in Show at the St. Augustine Art
Association's Honors Show.

By Bob Bahr

Gainesville, Florida, artist Marion W. Hylton is adept at oil, masterful in watercolor, and award-winning in pastel. "I choose my subject first and then I settle on my media," she explains. The skillful painter works out of a corner of her bedroom, so the solvents associated with oil paints make that medium her least favorite. "It smells up the house," she points out. She describes watercolor as her "first love," but pastel's portability, easy cleanup, and overall simplicity has great appeal for her. "More and more, I am choosing pastel," says Hylton. "I wear a surgical glove on my right hand, and that's the hand I use for making all my marks and doing all my blending. And I keep my pastel sticks very organized—each in a specific place—so I don't have to dig around to find the one I want."

Hylton notes that pastel seems to be gaining in popularity, and she regularly wins awards in the medium. "I participated in the Arts in the Parks competition seven times, winning the grand prize in 2006 and twice winning a purchase award," she recalls. "And I won two awards this past year from the Pastel Society of America; it was the first year I entered that competition. Pastel seems to really be taking off." The artist starts a pastel painting with the harder, chalkier NuPastel sticks, then moves on to softer Rembrandts, then to still-softer Senneliers, and finally very soft Unisons for finishing touches. She favors Strathmore, Canson, and Kitty Wallis pastel papers.

Evinston Church
2007, watercolor, 18 x 15.
Collection Peter Hollister.

In watercolor, Hylton is loyal to Arches 140-lb cold-pressed paper, which she stretches before use. "I get slightly more brilliant color with that paper," she asserts. "Other papers seem to soak up paint like a blotter. Arches puts just enough sizing in it for me." She generally uses Winsor & Newton watercolor paints, plus "a few Maimeri blues and some excellent colors from Cheap Joe's." The artist works both from life and from her own photographs, which she will combine to form the composition she has in mind. A Hylton watercolor painting generally begins with a 3"-x-5" value sketch, which she says is doubly important as it not only establishes the value pattern but also nails down the composition. Hylton is a fan of masking fluid, and she applies it using two brushes—one with "about two hairs in it" and the second for massing in shapes—but she avoids the use of gouache. "I try to only use the white of the paper because when I was trained in art school I was told that 'transparent watercolor is just that,'" she says. "But I see more and more paintings that are very successfully done that use a touch of gouache."

Hylton considers herself more than a hobbyist, but her circumstances allow her to pursue art at her leisure. "I don't have to do this to earn a living, so I paint what I want," she says. "I realize that this is a luxury."


Autumn Colors 2005, pastel, 17 x 24. Collection the artist.	High Noon 1998, watercolor, 13 x 18. Collection the artist.	Morning on Santa Cruz 2003, pastel, 19 x 27. Collection the artist.


Old Roses 2004, pastel, 12 x 16. Private collection. Purchase Award and Joseph V. Giffuni Memorial Award, Pastel Society of America.	Sunset on the South Rim 2007, pastel, 17 x 26. Private collection. Purchase Award, Grand Canyon Association.	One of the Fallen 2006, pastel, 18 1/2 x 23. Collection Arts in the Parks

Artist of the Month: Brian Smith: Figurative Abstracts

American Artist — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 10:52:00 GMT

This Toronto artist has spent the last three years exploring abstraction of the human figure, blending his classical training with a new approach.

Red Boot
by Brian Smith, oil, 36 x 24.

by Bob Bahr

Brian Smith is classically trained and has been drawing and teaching in this style for more than 40 years. But about three years ago, a casual question tossed out among friends put him on a very different path. “Two friends of mine and I had a group show of paintings at a major gallery in Toronto,” recalls Smith, “and one of us said, ‘Why don't we go a little more abstract with this show?' Having no idea how difficult abstraction actually is, I said, 'sure.'" Smith painted 11 pieces for that show, and more importantly, he was bitten by the abstraction bug. Last summer, roughly half of the paintings he completed were abstract--and roughly half of the paintings he sold were abstract, too.

Smith reports that he was challenged by abstraction not only because it was difficult for him to break away from observation and careful depiction, but also because he discovered that the familiar brushstrokes and mark-making tendencies that had become part of his painterly "handwriting" came off as clichéd. “Without knowing it, I developed specific personal iconic marks that I make,” says Smith. “I find that very appealing, but when you see them in every piece, you see how wrong it is for abstract pieces, and you have to move beyond that. A lot of it is letting go, trusting your gut once you get into a painting. In the middle of a piece, I must let the conversation between me and the painting take over. You have to listen to the painting and hear what it really needs.”

Laura
by Brian Smith, mixed
media on paper, 36 x 24.

In all of his paintings, Smith is working with a model in front of him. The artist has no intention of completely abstracting the form; his goal is to offer a different view of the model. “I am not drawing and painting to tell you what I see,” he says. “I am telling you what I want you to see.” He is also playing with time and with viewpoint. His Lyrica series of paintings was done by having the model rotate through three poses, holding each pose for just five minutes before breaking and moving on to the next pose. These pieces took all day and were executed on birch plywood that was prepared with a gouache ground to create a very active surface. Smith's goal was to find the few specific, organic lines in the figure he liked most, and present them in a somewhat abstract fashion while staying true to the beauty he saw. Smith layered gouache and oil as many times as necessary until he achieved the desired effect. “I am definitely inspired by the human form,” says the artist. "I cannot work from photographs--I find it impossible to do. I am moved by a relationship with the model and some of the forms that are in the model.”

Categorizing Smith's pieces is a tricky business. His website has separate categories for Figurative Abstracts and for other paintings, but two similar works are categorized differently: Striped Reclining (Tanya) [NOT SHOWN] is in the general paintings section, and Laura is in Figurative Abstracts. The difference isn't in color use--Smith stresses to his students that value is what makes a painting read correctly. He asserts that the most obvious difference between his two categories is the degree of rendering in the form. But it's also clear that as he subtracts information about the figure, he puts more thought into the design and composition of the piece. The difference may be more in the approach than in the result.

Smith is a graduate of the Ontario College of Art and Design, in Toronto, and he has served on the faculty of numerous art schools in Canada. He teaches master classes in his studio. For more information, visit his website at www.drawn2life.com.


Blue Floral (Michaela) by Brian Smith, acrylic and pastel on paper, 30 x 22.	Twenty After by Brian Smith, mixed media on canvas, 36 x 36.	Lyrica, No. 14 by Brian Smith, mixed media on wood, 30 x 40.


Vivienne by Brian Smith, mixed media on Mylar, 36 x 24.	Lyrica, No. 6 by Brian Smith, mixed media on Mylar, 24 x 36.

Artist of the Month: Sarah Siltala: Capturing Utter Stillness

American Artist — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 12:05:00 GMT

This New Mexico artist slowly builds up transparent glazes of oil colors to create still lifes and landscapes with luminous, vibrant, and subtle textures.

Evening Solitude,
2008, oil on board, 15 x 15.
All artwork this
article private collection.

by Naomi Ekperigin

It would seem fitting that Sarah Siltala is now a prolific oil painter, as she was born into a family of professional artists. However, the artist found painting much later in life, and is largely self-taught. “I often wonder if I was genetically wired to create art, or if growing up in, Santa Fe, surrounded by art and music, I had no choice but to follow my roots,” she says. “I was always interested in music as a child, and studied it in college, but at that time something in my heart told me I was following the wrong path, and I quit school just short of attaining my degree. Later in life I felt an overwhelming desire to paint even though I had never received formal instruction.” Siltala began painting in oil 10 years ago, and her first few paintings were created with inspiration from art books she’d checked out of the library and some supplies given to her by her artist sister. Any insecurity about her skills quickly dissipated when one of her paintings was sold in a gallery just one month after she began painting. The artist knew she had found the art form for her.

Figs
2007, oil on board, 9 x 9.

Siltala primarily paints still lifes and landscapes, although she occasionally draws figures in charcoal to hone her drawing skills. “I am inspired by nature and its bountiful gifts, whether a fruit, a flower, a cloud, a tree, or a bird,” she says. “Seeing beauty everywhere inspires me to paint.” This is not surprising given that the artist grew up surrounded by the picturesque landscape of New Mexico, which has attracted plein air artists from around the world for decades. Sometimes inspiration strikes her instantly, and other times she has to ruminate on a subject before she is moved to paint it. Siltala often relies on a sketchbook in which she keeps various drawings, ideas, and images, to inspire her as she prepares to paint. She spends a considerable amount of time determining the composition, seeking to create a sense of calm and peacefulness in her work. “I’m not attracted to busy compositions,” she says. “Instead I concentrate on one or two main ideas. When setting up my still lifes I rearrange and usually delete objects so that I am sure to catch the optimum light and shadow in the final painting.” When she is satisfied with her arrangement, she takes several photos of her final setup for reference in the studio. She often works on more than one painting at a time, making it infeasible to have every still life set up throughout the painting process.

Precarious Perch, 2007,
oil on board, 12 x 12.

After cutting and sizing her wood panel, she applies gesso and then sketches her composition in charcoal. She begins painting with light washes, slowly building up color. “I paint in the style of the Old Masters, building layer after layer of transparent glazes,” she says, citing Corot, Rembrandt, and Inness as inspirations. Regardless of the size of her surface, Siltala’s pieces take weeks to complete, because each layer must fully dry before the next can be applied-- even though she uses an alkyd medium to speed up the drying process. “I often play with each layer as I lay it down, pressing sponges, crumpled fabric, or plastic wrap into them and lifting off some of the wet glaze to reveal the previous layer,” the artist notes. “After playing with several layers in this way, an impressionist color field results, with specks of individual color layers showing through.” Siltala considers this layer-building stage to be meditative, for it requires her to work calmly and slowly, relying on patience as each layer of paint dries. “It is a very nice balance to my hectic lifestyle of raising two young boys,” she says. “Life moves very fast, and I believe in taking time to feed the spirit. I’m always thrilled when patrons recognize a feeling of peace in my paintings, because I am capturing what I truly seek to express in my work: a quiet moment of peace, beauty, and simplicity in an often chaotic world.” Making time for her art was an early challenge for the artist, who says she occasionally felt guilt for taking time away from her children to do something for herself. “However, I know it’s healthier for them and for me if I have something completely my own. I also want to teach them by example that when you have a dream, no matter what your training or background, there is nothing you can’t achieve if you are disciplined and work hard.”

Summer's Glory,
2008, oil, 10 x 10.

The artist believes that this mindset should be adopted by all who seek to become painters. She recommends that aspiring artists learn as much as possible about their medium of choice by visiting art galleries and museums, and by reading about various painting techniques.“Don’t worry about being original right away,” she says. “That will come after you gain basic skills and the brush intuitively becomes a tool for creative expression.” However, Siltala notes that a great work of art depends as much on what an artist leaves out as what is put in. “I’ve noticed that many beginners often try to capture every detail in their paintings. I believe that when you allow viewers to fill in the blanks on their own, you appeal to a much wider audience and forge a bond with them. When viewers can fill in the details of a painting with their own personal symbols and experiences, they can connect more deeply to the work.” Siltala’s work often allows viewers to do so through her use of clean, simple compositions and subtle layers of color. There is a sense of quiet and calm that is both inviting and inspiring.

For more information on Siltala, visit her website at www.SarahSiltala.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the assistant editor of American Artist.

Artist of the Month: Benjamin McVey: Painting Objects Lost and Found

American Artist — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 09:00:00 GMT

This New York City artist paints landscapes, still lifes, and portraits that highlight the relationships between seemingly disparate objects.

by Naomi Ekperigin


This Situation 2006, oil, 20 x 16. All artwork this article collection the artist.	Self-Portrait Shouting 2008, oil, 22 x 18.

“Art has always been a vital part of my life,” says Benjamin McVey. “I knew I wanted to do something creative for a living, but I wasn’t sure what direction to take.” The Houston native attended Southwest Texas State University, in San Marcos, where he majored in Communication Design. The curriculum included fine-arts classes, and the artist quickly found himself spending more time working on studio projects outside of the classroom. However, after graduation, he left fine arts behind to pursue a career in advertising and design. “Five years went by before I seriously began drawing again,” McVey recalls. “I found I was craving something more in my life. I enjoyed my job, but I felt that at the end of the day I hadn’t created anything of value. A friend suggested I sign up for a drawing class at the Art Students League of New York, in Manhattan, and I discovered that I still had a natural aptitude for art.” As he tapped into his drawing skills, the artist soon developed a desire to paint and studied oil painting at both the Art Students League and the National Academy, where he studied under Dan Gheno, Sharon Sprung, and Costa Vavagiakis.


Your Hands Are Like Mine 2008, oil, 12 x 24.	Of What Is to Come 2008, oil, 20 x 20.

McVey spends the most time developing his composition, employing digital images and Photoshop to make sure that the final set-up is a good fit for the size of the canvas he has chosen. “Having the digital image on my computer is great because it helps me decide if the composition is working and gives me a clearer picture of what the painting will look like when I’m finished,” the artist adds. After printing the photo, he covers it with tracing paper and does a rough sketch of the image. He then draws a graph over the sketch and copies a proportional graph onto his canvas. “I use the smaller sketch and photo as my guide as I draw the image onto the canvas,” he explains. “But when I start to paint, I work directly from life, which I try to do whenever possible. I think the whole process really helps me understand the painting.” By the time all of this preparatory work is completed, McVey says that he is so familiar with his subject that painting goes rather quickly and easily, although he is sure to stay flexible and allow for changes along the way.

The artist occasionally paints landscapes and seascapes, but his subject matter consists mostly of found objects and people. “My still life subjects are simple, everyday objects that catch my attention,” he says. “They are items that have been discarded, forgotten, or passed by because people have lost interest. By painting these items I give them new life. Objects once old and forgotten become interesting to the viewer because they are seen in a different way.” For McVey Of What Is to Come is exemplary of his belief in the importance of these objects. The chair looks as though it is suspended in midair, defying gravity and almost threatening to fall upon the sewing machine below. There exists a movement and stillness in the painting that makes the objects appear very much alive. “The abandoned sewing machine and worn-down chair represent how easily we throw away objects that we view as useless in favor of the next new thing,” he says. “By elevating the chair, I tried to bring focus to the object and glorify it, as though it were the subject in a portrait. I used the sewing machine to not only balance out the composition but also as a slight jab at new technologies that have made this beautifully crafted object, and others like it, obsolete.”


Brice's Dog 2007, oil, 50 x 34.	The End of the World 2007, oil, 60 x 52.

McVey likens these still lifes to the Dadaists’ found objects and ready-mades, and he cites a multitude of influences in his work, such as Sargent, Van Gogh, and Hopper. “I like when realism is taken out of place a bit, when it appears somewhat off-kilter. It’s not quite surrealism, but definitely not total reality.” In addition to the spacing of his objects, the artist often places them in bare rooms, as though the space they inhabit is all their own. The seemingly empty room that acts as the backdrop in Of What is to Come and This Situation highlights the objects’ importance and usefulness in the eyes of the artist. “My background in design has greatly influenced my work,” he says of his stylistic choices. “I like for my subjects to occupy the space, and I render the space simply. I like the paintings to breathe.”

About the Artist
Benjamin McVey earned a B.F.A. in Communications Design from Southwest Texas State University, in San Marcos. He moved to New York City in 1998, where he has taken classes at the National Academy of Design, and the Art Students League of New York, both in Manhattan. His work belongs to private collections in Texas, California, and New York, and he has exhibited his work in group shows throughout New York City. For more information on McVey, visit www.bhmcvey.com or email him at bhmcveyart@yahoo.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the assistant editor for American Artist.

Artist of the Month: Lisa Goren: A New Meaning of Wet-in-Wet Watercolor

American Artist — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 08:24:00 GMT

For this Massachusetts artist, water is both her subject and her medium.

Iceberg From Our Zodiac,
Antarctica No. 2
2005, watercolor, 24 x 36.
All artwork this
article collection
the artist, unless otherwise indicated.

by Naomi Ekperigin

The majority of Lisa Goren’s watercolors depict the ice of Antarctica, which she first viewed 10 years ago. After years of working in the music business, the artist became a stay-at-home mom, which afforded her the opportunity to nurture her love for art. “Not having a business to go back to gave me the freedom to try something new,” the artist recalls. Even before she began painting, Goren knew where her inspiration would come from. “I don't know what sparked it, but always knew I wanted to paint the ice of Antarctica,” she says. “The first paintings I created immediately after my trip were very small--I really think of them as sketches--but they were enough to get me started.” Initially, the artist found it difficult to put her thoughts onto paper. “I had trouble explaining what I wanted to do, even though I could see it so clearly,” she says. “It wasn’t until I took a class with Wendy Soneson at the Brookline Arts Center, in Massachusetts, that I was able to put it all together.” Goren did not have an art background prior to her trip to Antarctica, let alone training in traditional methods of watercolor painting. However, this is exactly what enabled her to create such interesting and dynamic abstract pieces. “Wendy’s class wasn’t a traditional watercolor class,” she explains. “People were exploring ways of using watercolor beyond realistic landscapes and still lifes, so I was really able to develop my own ideas in a safe environment.”

Bull Kelp, Antarctica No. 1
2006, watercolor, 24 x 24.
Collection Suzanne Wert.

Although the artist only began taking art classes five years ago, she is a self-proclaimed “devoted watercolorist.” “Water is my subject, so it makes sense that it is my medium,” she says matter-of-factly. She is equally certain about her process when it comes to her depiction of the arctic landscape. “I have found that when taking on a subject such as these extreme landscapes the term ‘abstract’ becomes less important,” the artist states on her website. “In general my work is more realistic and representational, which can be a surprise to those unfamiliar with the Antarctic landscape.” While many may think of a vast sea of white, Goren attests that the area she paints is full of vibrant color. “Seeing the landscape made me rethink how we perceive water and ice, which have so many manifestations and are beautiful and ever-changing. In Antarctica, dirt and snow algae can create amazing effects, and the icebergs are so dense that the only light that passes through produce a clear blue.” The artist’s process reflects her attempts to not only capture the atmosphere she loves, but recreate it. She finds that she doesn’t plan as much as other artists, and her preliminary drawing merely blocks in the major shapes on the paper. The rest of the work is done with watercolor.

300 Blue Whale Bones,
Abandoned Whaling Station,
Antarctica, No. 8
2007, watercolor, 24 x 24.

“I work very wet-in-wet,” she explains. “Each color is mixed on the paper, which I feel makes the watercolor look so alive. As the colors are forming on the paper, I have the opportunity to create mixtures that reflect the image I’m working from.” The artist’s palette is fairly limited, with three yellows, three reds, and five blues; her brand of choice for paints is Winsor & Newton. The artist works only from photographs and often takes two to three months to complete a painting. “I can’t work on the same painting consistently,” Goren says. “Because of my process, I have to wait for the painting to dry at least a day or two before I can continue. I tend to have two or three pieces in progress at one time, so I am able to go between them.”

The artist does not pin or tape down her paper, and as it becomes wet from layers of watercolor, it curls. Some artists might find this distracting, but Goren doesn’t mind it. “I like when the paper curls,” she says. “It gives the pieces a sculptural aspect, much like the landscape itself. When I frame the pieces, they are almost always floating, so that movement becomes part of the piece. I think of this as a way of putting less distance between the viewer and the painting.” Although the artist enjoys the visual effect, she notes that recently she has been working on heavy paper, which doesn’t curl as much. “These days I don’t work with anything less than 300-lb watercolor paper—Arches or Fabriano,” she says. “In fact, in the past year or so, I have been working mainly with 300-lb, extra-white, hot-pressed Fabriano paper. Switching from lighter paper to heavier paper was like a leap to a different world; it’s really hard to go back to a 140-lb stock. When you work on paper that can’t handle the water, you don’t really know what you can do.”

300 Blue Whale Bones,
Abandoned Whaling Station,
Antarctica, No. 12
2007, watercolor, 24 x 24.

Goren has recently begun a new series of watercolors depicting whale bones, inspired by her visit to an abandoned whaling station while in Antarctica. “I had originally gone to Antarctica to see blue whales, but there weren’t any,” she recalls. “I learned that between 1905 and 1966—when it became illegal to hunt them—nearly 300,000 blue whales had been caught, and there are only about 300 left in the Antarctic seas now. It was so moving to me, to think that there were only 300 left down there. I knew I had to create 300 paintings.” Because the bones can be upwards of 15 feet in size, Goren must rely on photographs taken on site.

Goren’s dedication to depicting a landscape that is rapidly deteriorating is further fueled by her increasing knowledge of watercolor. She enjoys taking classes and workshops taught by various kinds of instructors, although her work is considered abstract. “It’s always good to have different voices in your head, and to have a different set of tools to rely on,” she says. Her desire to expand her set of tools increases when she enters her work in juried shows. “I go to shows and think, ‘I can’t do that. Or that. Or that,’” she says with a laugh. “But I’m not discouraged. It’s great knowing that there’s so much more to learn.” Although she came to art relatively late in life, she feels that anyone can discover their inner artist if they find a subject that moves them. “There’s no such thing as someone who doesn’t think artistically. Whenever you choose a radio station to listen to, or the color to paint your dining room wall, you are making an artistic choice. I think anyone can do what I’m doing if they have a connection to the medium and their subject.”

For more information on Goren, visit the artist’s website at www.lisagorenpaintings.com, or email her at lisagoren@verizon.net.

Naomi Ekperigin is the editorial assistant for American Artist.

Artist of the Month: Marilyn Fuerstenberg

American Artist — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 07:55:00 GMT

This self-taught artist has found that learning to paint in watercolor is not only fun and challenging, but it also enables her to explore the world around her.

Day Job 2007,
watercolor, 22 x 12.
All artwork this
article collection the artist.

by Naomi Ekperigin

Marilyn Fuerstenberg first began painting in watercolor more than 20 years ago, while she was working as a social worker in Wisconsin. The demands of her occupation propelled her to seek an activity that would balance the turbulence of working with abused and neglected children. “I loved my job, but working with abused children took so much out of me emotionally,” the artist says. “I knew I needed something to escape to, and painting became my therapy.” She first began painting in oil but found the “smells and mess were too much.” Fuerstenberg recalls speaking with a friend who worked in watercolor, and asking what she would need to get started in the medium. From her first painting, she knew she’d found the medium for her. “Just watching wet watercolors mingle on paper intrigued me,” she says. “Watching it mingle and make new colors…I was hooked.”

As a full-time social worker, watercolor was even more appealing because of its quick drying time. “I liked the fact that I could paint for 10 minutes—sometimes I only had 10 minutes,” the artist says. “I painted at my kitchen counter while making dinner. Actually, these quick works were just a way of getting a handle on the medium. I was more playing with the paints than actually making a painting.” After retiring in 2001, Fuerstenberg decided to devote herself to painting full time; she now works six hours a day, five days a week. The artist also finds great joy in teaching senior citizens in her area. Beginner watercolor classes allow her to sharpen her own skills while introducing the medium to others.

Working Man 2007,
watercolor, 17 x 20.

Fuerstenberg’s subject matter is varied, and she views each new painting as a chance to learn. “It can be a coyote far off in a field, a snow drift, or simply a vivid color,” she says. “I rarely will paint something that is not a challenge for me. I strive to keep learning.” The artist primarily paints nature scenes in her rural area, painting both on-site and back home in her studio. “I use rough sketches, and sometimes reference photos,” she explains. “I try to remember to do a value sketch, but I often find myself in too much of a hurry to start painting. When I’m doing a wildlife scene, I just sketch the animal onto the watercolor paper and nothing else. I then wet the paper and start laying in the sky, and take it from there.” This intuitive approach allows the artist to learn as she goes--figuring out how to proceed in each step and developing new techniques and approaches to problems. For instance, in the painting Daffodils, color mixing proved to be challenging for the artist. “The color yellow was difficult because of its high-key value range,” Fuerstenberg explains. “Yellow can turn muddy very fast, and I had to be careful about the colors I would shade the yellows with. The wrong purple—yellow’s complement—can turn the yellow more of a brown. I found, through trial and error--and intuition--that blue worked well.”


Taking A Break 2007, watercolor, 15 x 22.	Daffodils 2008, watercolor, 14 x 22.

Fuerstenberg’s commitment to self-education is a good lesson for all artists, especially those exploring a new medium. She recommends finding a teacher who can instill the basics, and then buying a few art-instruction books to develop new skills. Most of all, the artist believes a genuine desire and perseverance will lead to success. “Stick with it,” she asserts. “If you have a desire, it will happen. Oh--and never forget to have fun. We may not all become Winslow Homer, but if you enjoy it, that’s all that’s important.”

For more information on the artist, email her at mfuerst@idcnet.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the editorial assistant for American Artist.

Would you like to be our Artist of the Month?

SHOW YOUR ARTWORK TO THE WORLD in this competition sponsored by Jerry's Artarama. Here's your chance to share your drawings, paintings, prints, and sculpture with the thousands of people visit this website every month. Just fill out the competition entry form and e-mail a digital image of your artwork. One entry qualifies you to be considered over a six-month period. The judges will select one artist every month to be featured on this page.

Each winner will receive a prize from Jerry's Artarama.

Send a jpeg of your work, along with caption information and a brief paragraph on your inspiration/background to aomcomp@myamericanartist.com.

Artist of the Month: Arturo Samaniego

American Artist — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 07:50:00 GMT

This Florida-based artist paints still lifes in oil that hint at a human presence.

Trio on Marble Block
2007, oil, 36 x 48.
All artwork this
article collection
the artist unless
otherwise indicated.

by Naomi Ekperigin

For 15 years, Arturo Samaniego’s artistic aspirations took a backseat to his computer hardware business, which was a far cry from his original plans. From his first art classes at the Instituto Nacional de Bellas Artes, in Mexico, as a teenager, Samaniego knew he wanted to be an artist. “My heart was never in the business world,” he says. “I was always frustrated that my artwork came second. I felt I could produce much better work if I could devote my full energy to it.” Finally, in 2002 he decided to change professions and dedicate himself to pursuing a fine-art career. This included a move to Naples, Florida, where the artist set up a studio where he produces work and teaches small groups.


Lean On Me 2007, oil, 24 x 12. Collection Linda Weidner.

After years of figurative and portrait work, Samaniego has developed a style and a set of themes that suit his interest, and allow him to flex his creative muscles. “Over the last two years my subject matter has become what I call ‘contemporary still life,’” the artist explains. “I am always inspired and challenged by the representational tradition of realism in oil painting, and I am equally intrigued by the energy and freedom of contemporary art. For this reason, my still lifes employ a careful execution in a realistic style, and also combine contemporary compositional elements, such as close-ups, sparse setups, clean lines, and the like.”

Bartletts and Callas
2007, oil on linen, 24 x 12.

Samaniego finds setting up his still life, to be the most difficult part of the process, as he is working to combine all these elements into a unified composition. “I stage everything in my studio, playing with different lighting and element arrangements, and photographing the variations.” At this point, he usually ends up with several dozen pictures and then selects those that best fit his original idea. He works from life until the natural elements such as fruit and flowers begin to spoil, necessitating the use of reference photographs. “The first stage is the most challenging as far as creativity is concerned,” he says, “because I am trying to display the elements of a classical style while still trying to keep it fresh and contemporary.” Despite these difficulties, it is this part of the process that Samaniego likes most; in fact, it is what prompted him to work with still lifes in the first place. “As an artist, still life painting provides me with total control over the mood, lighting, composition, and overall look of the piece,” he says, which is not always the case when working with figures.

The Illusionist (Self-Portrait)
2007, oil, 60 x 48.

The artist begins on a pre-toned canvas, which he creates by mixing acrylic paint (usually an earth color) into his gesso. Over this, he blocks in the large shapes using vine charcoal sticks, which he finds easy to erase when he needs to make corrections. “My pieces develop in layers on oil paint,” he explains, “with the first layer being opaque and done in middle tones. Over this first layer I apply transparent glazes and opaque scumbles, building up the color and definition. Some passages are done wet-in-wet, others are not.

Apple Diptych
2006, oil on wood, 60 x 30.

“I feel my compositions are such that, even though no figure is present, the elements and arrangements hint at the human touch indirectly,” the artist says. In such pieces as Lean on Me and Trio on Marble Block, this is evident in the precarious position of the fruit. It seems to be in motion, full of energy and personality. And, although the viewer knows a pear could not balance itself so carefully, Samaniego makes the viewer believe there is a dynamic life behind his subject matter. “This is the function of the artist,” he explains. “To create illusions that help us understand, and enhance what we call reality.” This can be seen at work in his piece Self-Portrait (The Illusionist). In this painting, the pomegranate is not on the canvas--instead it materializes in midair, as the artist faces the viewer. We see that Samaniego relishes in his power as an artist, combining realistic and contemporary techniques that allow him to create the kind of work that enhances both our perceptions and his own.

For more information on Samaniego, visit his website at www.samaniegoart.com, or email him at samaniego@embarqmail.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the editorial assistant for American Artist.

Artist of the Month: Karen Kaapcke

American Artist — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 07:45:00 GMT

This New York City artist’s creative process involves self-reflection, during which she asks herself not only what she is painting, but also why she’s compelled to do so.

by Naomi Ekperigin

Daniel I
2006, oil on linen, 22 x 18.
Collection Mr. and Mrs. Andres Barragan.

Karen Kaapcke reached a major turning point in her life when she decided shortly after earning an M.A. in Philosophy that she would pursue painting and drawing. This came at an unexpected time—mere months before she was scheduled to start her doctoral studies in the field. “I was having difficulty putting what I wanted to say into writing when I was earning my Master’s,” the artist recalls. This prompted her to turn to art for assistance. Although she had grown up surrounded by the creative arts (her mother was a dancer and her father was a writer, and their social circle was full of visual artists), Kaapcke never pursued painting or drawing seriously. It wasn’t until one day, when Kaapcke ventured down to the Fine Arts Library at her university and picked up art books, that she found what she needed. Viewing the sculptures of Donatello and Auguste Rodin, she was instantly inspired. “I felt a connection to the work," she recalls. "I thought, ‘This is what I’m trying to do, but with words.’” She took the books back to her office and started drawing the sculptures, awakening a talent and interest that had lain dormant.

Kaapcke moved to New York City the following summer to take courses at the Art Students League of New York, in Manhattan, where she spent much of her first year trying to figure out what she hoped to gain and how she could accomplish her goals. “When I started at the Art Students League, it was really hard to look at my work,” the artist recalls. “My art was very tied up in the search going on inside of me, and I found it personal and private. I tended to keep to myself during classes and didn’t really socialize with other students during breaks.” Doing this, Kaapcke says, helped her maintain a private, safe space where she could focus on creating work without distractions caused by working in a classroom setting with other artists.

Joe's Shirt, Late Afternoon
2006, oil on board, 10 x 8.
Collection the artist.

Although the decision to change her path was initially daunting, the artist found that her background in philosophy has deeply influenced her painting. “When you’re studying something like philosophy, you’re searching for truths, basically,” the artist says. “My work always seems balanced between an analytical, measured approach and an emotional and existential one.” Take, for example, the painting Joe’s Shirt, Late Afternoon. This piece was conceived at a time in the artist’s life when she was questioning the act of creating paintings that were meant to hang on walls. She wondered how she could make pieces that would be more than merely decorative, when, “I realized that in my actual world I was surrounded by things that hung off of not only walls, but also chairs and tables, all around me: my clothing, my husband’s clothing, the clothing I wear when I’m painting,” she recalls. “One day I noticed how the late afternoon light hit those shirts and I saw that it could be a painting. What more natural thing to paint and subsequently hang on a wall than a shirt that was already hanging on a wall or door?” Thus began a series of paintings of piled, hanging, or draped clothing bathed in afternoon light.

It is this process of questioning and self-reflection that motivates Kaapcke to paint, inspiring her to take on various subject matter that help her learn a bit more about herself and the world around her. She splits her time between her homes in New York and France, where her environments inspire her choices of subject. “In New York, I focus on figurative painting, drawing, and still life, and when I’m in France, I paint the landscape,” she explains. “For some reason, I get more interior when I’m in New York, though I know there are beautiful cityscapes to be captured. When I’m in France, painting the landscape allows me to take a break from the figurative work I do, while still working and thinking; this break also makes returning to the figure exciting.” The artist developed a love for France while studying there with Ted Seth Jacobs, who initially guided her when she was a student at the Art Students League. She spent a brief period exploring abstract painting, which she still does periodically to “keep my color sense alive and remind myself of the freedom essential to painting,” but she has been committed to figurative work for the last 15 years. “In 1992 I visited the Prado Museum in Spain and saw the work of Velásquez,” she recalls, “and I once again felt all the possibilities inherent in figure painting, and became recommitted to painting from life.”


Daniel II 2007, oil on linen, 22 x 18. Collection the artist.	Destiny 2004, oil on linen, 12 x 12. Collection the artist.

Kaapcke approaches her work in a traditional way, and finds the early stages of sketching her subject to be her favorite. “I love the quiet focus that comes with simply laying down marks. I would love for that to go on forever,” she says. She usually starts with a quick oil or charcoal sketch, and then adds in some details either in charcoal or loose paint. She then lays in a colored wash and slowly builds up the piece in thin layers. “Towards the end I may do some glazing, but I think that in a way, when working with oils that are naturally transparent, one is glazing throughout the process.”

Although the artist considers herself traditional in terms of technique, and she admires the work of Old Masters such as Titian and Leonardo, she struggles most with her own work when she is unable to figure out why she is creating a given piece; it is this process that separates her work from traditional realist painting. “I am rarely content with a painting that seems assembled or posed merely for the purpose of making a nice picture,” she says. “When I first started painting at Ted Seth Jacobs’ studio in France, I constantly asked myself why I was standing in front of an easel. And I could never--and still can’t--answer that question. I actually think every painting I create is an attempt to find an answer.”

Clearly, this process of self-discovery and interrogation has yielded positive results, as the artist has received much praise for her work. She was most recently a finalist in The Artist’s Magazine 2007 competition in the Figure and Portrait Category, and in that same year won the American Artists’ Professional League Award for Representational Painting. In 2006, she won the Margaret Dole Portrait Award from the Catharine Lorillard Wolfe Art Club, in New York City, and has received numerous other accolades. For more information on Kaapcke, email her at kkaapcke101@hotmail.com, or visit her website, www.karenkaapcke.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the editorial assistant of American Artist.

Artist of the Month: Mark Marcuson: Art Versus Science

American Artist — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 05:25:00 GMT

This Nebraska artist went from scientific illustration to still lifes and figures that enable him to examine life in a new way.

Cranberries
2008, oil, 24 x 16.
Collection the artist.

by Naomi Ekperigin

Mark Marcuson is an equal-opportunity artist. Having spent most of his life drawing and painting, he has not simply dabbled in various media, he has devoted time to mastering them. After high school, he received an associates degree in art at Colby Community College, in Kansas, and shortly thereafter got a job as a scientific illustrator. “I was actually preparing to study historical geology after I completed my art degree,” he recalls, “but that summer I had a job working at a triceratops dig site and one of the university employees saw some of my artwork and encouraged me to apply for an open position within the research division of the University of Nebraska Natural History Museum. I didn’t expect to get hired, but I did, and began my career as an illustrator.” As an illustrator for the museum, Marcuson worked in a variety of media, including graphite, watercolor, acrylic, oil, colored pencil, and pen-and-ink. The artist worked in this field for 11 years, making time for his fine-art work on weekends and during the evenings. This personal work was a sharp contrast to his scientific illustration, which tended to be in black and white, and was finely detailed. “My illustration was linked to systematic research,” the artist notes, “So there’s not a lot of room for self expression. After some time, I began painting murals, and I was able to have some fun. Eventually that allowed me to leave my job at the museum and divide my time between murals and fine art, with only an occasional illustration job to help pay the bills.”

Violin
2007, oil, 30 x 30.
Private collection.

With his schedule slightly more flexible after leaving behind full-time illustration, Marcuson went back to school to receive a B.A. degree in Linguistic Anthropology. When asked why he chose to go back and study a field other than art, he expresses confidence in the path he has taken. “I have been diligent over the years in expanding my knowledge of art through personal study,” he says. “I have an extensive library, and take every opportunity to visit art museums and traveling exhibitions to study the original works of my favorite artists, which include John Singer Sargent and the Northern European still-life painters. At the time, my wife and I were planning to work in Asia for a significant period of time, so I felt earning a Linguistic Anthropology degree was the best way to prepare.”

In 1999, Marcuson went to Nepal, where, in addition to studying linguistics, he taught scientific illustration and drew illustrations for the Ethnobotanical Society of Nepal, in Kathmandu. The four years he spent there greatly impacted not only his outlook on life, but also his artistic process. “I’d never painted people before my trip to Asia,” the artist says. “I was so impressed with the people I met there. I saw the challenges many of them faced to meet basic needs, and their endurance made me examine life in a new way.” This analysis is evident in paintings such as Nepali Woman With Basket. “You can see the tension in her hand,” Marcuson notes. “The expression on her face is indicative of the weight she’s carrying.”

Nepali Woman With Basket
2007, oil, 48 x 30.
Collection the artist.

Bread and Olives
2007, oil, 26 x 18.
Collection the artist.

For the last 12 years the artist has been painting exclusively in oil, and paints mostly figures and still lifes. “I like to work with subjects that have strong visual contrast,” he says. “My figurative work tends to be more brushy and loose while my still lifes have more detail.” Although some of Marcuson’s illustration work was in oil, he faced new challenges in his fine-art work. “Being able to see the relative juxtaposition between warm and cool colors and figuring out how to use them to affect the sense of depth and form in a painting was difficult at first,” he says. But through experimentation, he gained the skills and confidence he needed to move forward and excel in the medium.

“I start with classical composition lines and a lot of thumbnail sketches, in which I plan out the balance of lights and darks,” the artist says of his process. “This is the most difficult stage, but also the most important. If I rush this to get to the fun part—painting—I regret it later.” Having spent much of his art career creating highly detailed work, Marcuson also finds it difficult to know when a piece is finished. “I’ve trained myself to stop sooner than I might otherwise, and then look at the painting over the course of several days or weeks before making any final adjustments,” he explains. The artist advises that others who wish to try a new media go in with an open mind, and be willing to alter their expectations as they work. “Go slowly,” he says. “There has to be time to learn, evolve, and experiment. I also suggest researching the various techniques used in the media you want to try, and then experiment from there. I also recommend finding an artist you like and going to a workshop—there is nothing like watching another artist pick up a brush and paint. Most people will discover what they need to discover, but they’ll progress more quickly if they can learn from others who have gone before them.”

For more information on the artist, contact him at mlmarcuson@gmail.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the editorial assistant for American Artist.

Artist of the Month: Nick Clulow: Interior Acrylic Portraits

American Artist — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 05:00:00 GMT

This Maryland artist always paints from life, creating work that gives personality and history to inanimate objects.

Apartment Fridge
2001, acrylic on panel, 5 x 7.
All artwork this
article private collection.

by Naomi Ekperigin

Nick Clulow paints household items with the intensity and reverence of a portrait artist. Painting directly from life, the artist attempts to reveal the personality of couches, chairs—even his own bathroom sink—and shows the viewer the beauty in spaces that are often overlooked. Clulow’s approach to painting developed while a student at the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA), in Baltimore. “From a very early age I was fond of drawing and known as a ‘good drawer,’” the artist recalls. “But it wasn’t until MICA that I took up painting.” It was under the tutelage of artist-instructor Mark Karnes [featured in the November 2007 issue of American Artist] that Clulow developed his approach to painting. “Karnes was a huge influence on how I thought about painting,” Clulow says. “He is quite certain about what painting is for himself, and he brings that to the classroom. But that’s not to say he is inflexible—he just has defined parameters. Namely, that painting is most rich when it is done directly from life and is a response to seeing with one’s eyes. Studying under Karnes, I became sensitized to the beauty and richness of visual experience—not only in painting, but in my experience of the world in general.” Clulow was also inspired by the early French plein air painters, as well as painters such as Fairfield Porter and Antonio López Garcia. These influences propelled the artist to paint in two ways: a broad and painterly sensibility, in which color and value are brought to the fore, and an intense and exact examination of the subject, in which he goes into as much detail as possible.

Apartment Sink
2001, acrylic on panel, 12 x 14.

These two approaches can be seen in paintings such as Love Seat and Apartment Sink. In the former, the drawing is more casual, and the artist focuses on creating a muted, cool atmosphere, devoting much of his attention to the colors of the couch. In the latter painting, we see the artist’s attention to detail, as his drawing skills are highlighted, bringing life to a seemingly lifeless object. “These paintings show my interest in portraiture, with the furniture, appliances, and hardware acting as the sitter,” Clulow explains. “The aim of portraiture is to represent what is particular and peculiar about the subject, and that’s what I strive for in my painting. I feel that simple, straightforward compositions strengthen this sense of portraiture and examination.” Creating a personality for his subjects requires an intimate dialogue with the subject, and for the artist, his resulting drawings are a response to this dialogue. For Clulow, such interaction enables him to not only appreciate the world around him, but also to understand it.

“Wherever I am, indoors or outdoors, I observe objects and spaces,” the artist says. “I don’t search for anything in particular; I just remain open to anything that presents itself. Light plays an important role in much of my work.” Apartment Fridge, for example, depicts an object that the artist sees and uses daily, but only when bathed in this specific light did it inspire him. “I saw it with sunlight on one side, creating a kind of half-shadow in the front, and I sat down then and there and painted it.” The same can be said for the painting Kathy’s Couch. “I created this piece when I was taking care of a friend’s plants while she was away. The time of day was such that the light brought out this wonderful quality in the couch and seemed to imbue it with character. Over the next several days of watering her plants, I stayed for as long as the light was agreeable and sat on the floor and painted.”

Kathy’s Couch
2002, acrylic on panel, 2007, 7¼ x 13½.

The artist often returns to the subject at the same time of day and under the same lighting conditions over a period of time, especially when he wants to go into greater detail or create a large piece. Clulow’s preference for painting from life also means that he often has several paintings in progress at a given time, allowing himself to respond to changes in lighting and weather, as well as his mood. A painting may take anywhere from an hour to several days to complete, but the artist always works quickly, responding intuitively and immediately to his surroundings. “I often paint alla prima with little or no preparatory drawing,” he says. “I do this not only because of time restraints, but because I like to start fresh.” Clulow first began painting in acrylic primarily because the materials were cheap and could be purchased in large quantities. “Of course, after buying large bottles of paint, I had to make use of them, and I quickly became accustomed to painting in acrylic,” he says. He also notes that many viewers initially mistake his paintings for oil, reducing his desire to switch media. Acrylic paint tends to dry quickly, especially when working en plein air—a property of the medium that the artist finds to be more of an asset than a drawback. “It allows for building up of layers and revising quickly when necessary,” he notes. “I also paint very thin layers, which partly removes the unappealing plastic finish that acrylic can produce.”


Love Seat 2006, oil on panel, 3½ x 5¼.	Hotel Chair 2007, acrylic on panel, 6½ x 6.

In addition to his portraits of interiors, Clulow also creates a painting every day, which he began doing after an accident resulted in an injury to his right hand. “I was concerned about my painting future after the accident, so I decided to try painting very small, simple pieces with my left hand,” the artist recalls. “Surprisingly, they turned out fine, and soon after I regained full use of my right hand. However, I still continue making small paintings each day, and I limit myself to an hour of painting time for each.” These paintings, usually of animals, are far different from his studies at MICA and the interiors he enjoys, but he finds them to be an excellent way of sharpening his skills, and applying the lessons learned to his interior paintings. “They have been quite useful in terms of honing my ability to invent spaces, especially in terms of color, light, reflected light, and shadow. In many ways, they are similar to my ‘portraits’ of everyday objects,” the artist says. “I like what is peculiar and characteristic about the subject, and just as with my interiors, I know a piece is finished when the surface has life, and the light allows the viewer to believe in a particular space, object, and moment.”

For more information on the artist, e-mail him at nicholasclulow@gmail.com, or view additional images at www.flickr.com/photos/nickclulow. To view Clulow’s daily paintings, visit www.myspace.com/nickspocketpaintings.

Naomi Ekperigin is the editorial assistant for American Artist.

Artist of the Month: Steve White: Capturing Nature in Transparent Watercolor

American Artist — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 04:58:00 GMT

This artist, who primarily paints landscapes in transparent watercolor, finds the unpredictability of the medium to be its most enjoyable trait.

by Naomi Ekperigin

Cascade
2004, watercolor, 19 x 28.
All artwork this
article private collection
unless otherwise indicated.

Steve White has always loved recording the natural world. Born in Virginia and raised in New Jersey, the artist says that from an early age he was “always looking and drawing. I was a restless adventurer.” After a four-year stint in the U.S. Air Force, White toured the United States and captured his surroundings in pen-and-ink, pastels, and charcoal, with the focus of his subject matter being the small towns, lakes, fields, and forests he came across. In a year and a half, his collection grew to include more than 400 drawings ranging from small sketches to full-size sheets. “My attachment to the outdoors motivates me to record scenes on paper as a way of preserving what is disappearing,” White explains. Now pursuing painting full time, most of the artist’s subjects are found near his home in rural Pennsylvania. “I have always been emotionally drawn to scenes and events where I live,” the artist says. “I don’t think you have to go farther than your own backyard to find inspiration. It could be anything from the way a shadow falls on an interesting cluster of buildings—I just know it when I see it.”

As he wanders around quiet wooded areas near his home, White takes pictures of scenes that strike him. These serve as references when he works back in his studio. After reviewing his photographs, White determines whether he needs to go back on site and do small thumbnail sketches. “Except for these small drawings, I don’t do any preliminary work,” the artist says. “From experience I know what the paint will do, but I don’t want to know exactly how all the pigments will respond beforehand. It’s the reason I paint in watercolor—the anticipation of surprises you can’t plan is what I live for when painting. While working, I take these surprises and build on them."


Sundown Symphony 2007, watercolor, 20 x 38.	Relentless 2004, watercolor, 18 x 26.

As a self-taught watercolorist, White has learned by trial and error, but he found that his background in drawing enabled him to grasp painting rather quickly. “Being able to render whatever I wanted fairly accurately meant that I only had to learn about the mechanics of paint,” he says. “The biggest challenge was color. After a few years of using color by instinct, I wanted to know why certain colors worked and others didn’t, and how I could control them. So I became a student of color theory, reading every book I could find on the subject. The old adage of ‘practice makes perfect’ really was true for me—there are no shortcuts!” White, who first began working in watercolor more than 20 years ago, still finds he learns something new with each painting. Take, for example, Relentless, which he completed in 2004. The dark river and the shadows in the forest were especially difficult to render in transparent watercolor. “The challenge was bringing life to the beautiful darks,” the artist recalls. “I would experiment every day with different color mixtures to create different grays. I found that burnt sienna and cobalt blue created a gray that was impossible to get too dark, so I used that. I also started underpainting the shadows in the lightest color and using thin layers to build them up.”


Forest Theater 2005, watercolor, 17 x 31.	Nice Catch 2007, watercolor, 20 x 28. Collection the artist.

The artist now teaches workshops in his area to artists of all levels. He advises his students to try new techniques without fear and learn from their mistakes. “Every day, before you start painting, do a little experimentation,” says White. “Either with color, by mixing some paints never tried before, or by applying paint on a different kind of surface, or any other technique you’ve read about and wanted to try. As for subject matter, I tell them to paint what they know and love. Paint what moves you.”

About the Artist

Steve White has been a signature member of the Pennsylvania Watercolor Society since 1995. His paintings have been included in many regional and international exhibitions and have earned numerous awards. His studio is located at the GoggleWorks Center for the Arts, in Reading, Pennslyvania. For more information on the artist and his workshops, visit www.whitefineart.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the editorial assistant of American Artist.

Artist of the Month: Alex Garcia

American Artist — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 04:42:00 GMT

This painter, who works in egg tempera, creates figurative work that taps into themes and relationships both personal and universal.

by Naomi Ekperigin

La Esperanza
2007, egg tempera, 11 x 14.
Collection the artist.

“My subject matter at the moment involves people. They are portraits-- but more than just portraits,” says Texas-based artist Alex Garcia. Born in Puerto Rico, raised in Pennsylvania, and now residing in San Antonio, Garcia’s paintings focus on moments of contemplation that resonate with viewers on a personal level. He works in a representational style influenced by such masters as Andrew Wyeth, Diego Rivera, George Tooker, and Paul Cadmus.

A lifelong interest in art led to a B.F.A. degree in painting from Kutztown University, in Pennsylvania, where he primarily painted in oil and acrylic. After a few years of post-graduate painting, Garcia felt stuck. “My failures in oil and acrylic were frustrating, and I was unsure of what I wanted to do with my art,” he recalls. “I remember being introduced to the work of Andrew Wyeth back in high school. I just loved the detail and imagery—and the idea of painting with egg. When I started looking for a change, I revisited the work of Wyeth and other artists who painted with egg tempera—such as Tooker, Cadmus, and French—and I thought I’d try it.” He found the medium allowed him to retain rich color and suited his temperament. He taught himself and learned through trial and error, adjusting and refining his process with each piece. He now has a method with which he is most comfortable.

El Viejo
2007, egg tempera, 8 x 6.
Collection the artist.

Working in his studio from reference photos, Garcia first creates a line drawing of the scene and figures. He transfers that onto a gessoed panel and develops an underpainting in India ink to help establish the values. “Egg tempera is generally a translucent medium, so any underpainting will affect subsequent layers,” he notes. When he is done, he decides which section of the piece he will work on, usually going from broad to specific and painting in the larger areas first. If, for instance, he wants to focus on the sky, he will divide his egg medium and mix it with the dry pigments needed for that section. He will then begin to slowly and carefully layer the paint to create the desired effect. “The way I use egg tempera involves a lot of optical color mixing,” the artist says. “I create colors and values indirectly by layering warms and cools and complimentary colors. The beauty of egg tempera is that it dries almost instantly so I can continue to work by layering stroke upon stroke to achieve the desired effect.”


La Despedida 2006, egg tempera, 14 x 11. Collection the artist.	Hombre Quebrantado 2006, egg tempera, 8 x 6. Collection the artist.

Although his process may seem clearly structured, at the root of each work is an emotion that is not initially clearly defined. “It begins with a seed of an idea that surrounds something I may be going through at the moment. I then start to consider imagery that best represents those ideas or feelings.” The immediacy of Garcia’s emotions does not prevent him from painting realistically-- thanks to egg tempera he is able to combine deep emotion with a taut style. “Egg tempera is a slower medium; you have to slow down and build the painting in layers stroke by stroke, as opposed to pushing paint around as you would when working in oil. For that reason it can be frustrating to artists just starting out, but I encourage them to be persistent.” Garcia’s persistence and careful layering, combined with his deep connection to the subject enable him to achieve his goals with every piece. “On a fundamental level, I want to create beautiful images that are visually appealing but also engage the viewer emotionally.” As his work shows, he is succeeding with every stroke.

Garcia’s work was recognized in the spring of 2007 by the International Museum of Art, in El Paso, Texas and by The Artist’s Magazine in its 2006 Portrait and Figure competition for new artists. He was featured in the Best of American Mixed Media Artists & Artisans Volume 1. For more information on Garcia, contact him at alex@alexgarciafineart.com, or visit his website at www.alexgarciafineart.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the editorial assistant for American Artist.

Artist of the Month: Todd Snyder

American Artist — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 07:40:00 GMT

This Illinois artist creates oil paintings that juxtapose industrial spaces and figures in ambiguous settings.

Yardwatcher
2001, oil, 30 x 35¾.
All artwork this article
collection the artist.

by Naomi Ekperigin

Todd Snyder was born and raised in central Illinois and finds his favorite subject matter in the landscape that surrounds him. “I grew up in a small industrial town in the Rust Belt, where the predominant industry was the manufacturing of heavy equipment, such as cargo trains, bulldozers, and mining equipment,” he explains. “I’ve had an interest in these images for as long as I can remember.”

Snyder earned a degree in commercial art from the Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design, in Denver, but only briefly worked in that field as a break from working in auto body repair, which he returned to a few years ago. “Although I have the traditional artist’s ‘day job,’ I religiously paint for a couple of hours a day during the week and longer on weekends,” the artist says. When he has extra time, he goes on location to industrial settings, taking pictures with his digital camera. Although he takes several pictures so that he can work in his studio, Snyder often returns to the site to draw. “I find that, due to the distortions and flattening effect of the camera, my pictures aren’t adequate,” he explains. “I often create sketches on location for increased accuracy—and because I love to draw.”

Crosstalk
2001, oil.

After his initial sketch is complete, Snyder turns to his canvas, which he tones with a light acrylic wash. Once it is dry, he transfers his image onto the canvas in charcoal. “If I draw on top of the wash I seal the drawing with fixative,” the artist explains, “but if I draw directly onto the white surface—which I’ll do depending on the look I’m after—the wash seals the charcoal.” He then covers the entire surface with an underpainting in a monochrome earth color. “After this stage, I usually work back to front, starting with the sky area or the furthest point in the image, and then I work my way forward, tightening up elements as I go and checking the composition along the way,” says Snyder. He normally does this by looking at the painting in a mirror, as many artists do. As he approaches the end, he tightens and polishes areas of interest and adds the final highlights.

Wayfarers
1994, oil, 36 x 36.

The artist finds the biggest challenge is painting the figures in his urban landscapes, which he does to add a surreal aura to the location. Inspired by such masters as Konrad Witz and Jan van Eyck, Snyder also admires the work of Surrealists such as Paul Delvaux, Salvador Dalí, and Giorgio de Chirico. “I like to incorporate the figures-- place them in ambiguous situations and create a sort of broken narrative,” he says. He imbues his work with meaning by disrupting the scale of objects and giving figures a caricatured appearance, which can be seen in the piece Wayfarers. “I think this was one of my more successful surrealist pieces due to the scale changes and situations the characters seem to be in,” he comments. “Are they arriving or departing? I think the large crane also adds a menacing tone, which I like.”

Surveillant
2003, oil, 16 x 24.

Since 1989 Todd Snyder has been accepted into more than150 international, national, and regional juried exhibitions and has had 11 solo shows. His work is in the collection of the Lakeview Museum, in Peoria, Illinois, and the Blanden Memorial Art Museum, in Fort Dodge, Iowa.

For more information on Snyder, visit the Chicago Artists’ Coalition’s website, or email him at toddman@mtco.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the editorial assistant of American Artist.

Artist of the Month: Christopher Copeland

American Artist — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 09:51:00 GMT

Midwestern artist Christopher Copeland paints the landscape that surrounds him, imbuing it with emotion and recording the transient moments that are often difficult to capture.

by Naomi Ekperigin

Midsummer Evening
2007, oil, 30 x 32.
Private collection.

“My paintings are about my experiences and feelings toward nature,” says Minnesota native Christopher Copeland matter-of-factly. He has always known art was his calling, immediately enrolling in art school after high school and staying on that path ever since. He was influenced by American Impressionists such as Willard Leroy Metcalfe, John Henry Twachtman, and George Inness, and adopts their approach when painting the landscape. “I don’t believe in copying nature verbatim,” Copeland says. “Inness was influenced by his own personal experiences; his art was inspired by his memories and years of being out in nature.” Having grown up surrounded by the hayfields, river valleys, and farmsteads of the Midwest, Copeland’s work incorporates the beauty of the landscape with the memories and emotions it awakens in him.

Winter Willows
2006, oil, 28 x 30.
Collection the artist.

He is able to tap into this emotion by working at moments of the day when the light is fleeting and most effective. He almost exclusively paints en plein air, and does not rely on reference photographs when transferring or enlarging a piece. “I purposely wait to paint late in the day or in the early morning, so that I can capture that fast-moving light. I find that to be most dramatic, and it draws out the emotion in my work.” Working under such conditions forces the artist to work quickly and make decisions without overanalyzing himself or the landscape. It allows for an immediate emotional response and requires that he commit his subject to canvas without overworking it. He primarily paints in oils but will also carry pastels when he knows he’ll only have a short amount of time to capture the moment. “Pastels are a quicker medium, and I can do my color mixing right on my surface,” the artist explains. “I enjoy the brevity of it; the energy flows continuously.” In many instances Copeland will work from a pastel sketch created on-site and create a larger oil painting in his studio—though he does consider a pastel sketch to be a finished piece. “Near Santa Fe, New Mexico, for instance, started out as a pastel sketch, but I was inspired to create a larger oil piece.”

Autumn Passing
2005, oil, 30 x 40. Private
collection.

When painting in oils, he works on a light toned canvas and blocks in the large shapes with a mix of burnt sienna or another earth color. “At this point, I’m just making sure my drawing is spatially balanced,” Copeland explains. He next blocks in the shadows in a middle value. He paints the foreground and vertical planes before placing the sky, “unless the clouds are integral to the composition,” he says. Details are not stressed at this point, and he keeps his brushwork loose. “The feeling of light and space is what I want,” he explains. “When I see this I can begin to modify the tonal value of the objects in detail.” As he does this, Copeland is still racing against the sun, balancing his available light with the needs of a given painting. “The challenge is to stay aware of the light source on which to pace the amount of painting time I have. I must determine where the light is going to dissolve and where the shadows fill in.” Many times, after the light has passed, the artist will begin another sketch that captures the soft light of twilight. It is in these moments that he employs his pastels, which allow for immediate results.

Near Santa Fe, New Mexico
2005, oil,
16 x 20. Collection the artist.

Copeland differs from many plein air painters who work on site and in the studio in that he doesn’t use reference photographs. Although he has taken photos in the past, he says that he doesn’t find them useful. “I believe that for a landscape painter, the best way of seeing is being in front of a subject. Because my interest is in the movement of light—something that photographs cannot accurately record—I’d rather return to a location several times than take several pictures.”

Santa Rosa Mountains
2007, pastel,
11 x 14. Collection the artist.

One of the artist’s major challenges is keeping his work fresh when he is so deeply entrenched in his surroundings. He has always resided in the area that has inspired his work, and paints locations within an hour’s drive from his home. “I look for changes in the lighting, which keeps things exciting.” He also travels to Arizona and Santa Fe, which are his favorite landscapes outside of Minnesota. He also relies on his memories of a place to provide the emotional charge needed to elevate a piece. “I try to convey an emotional connection with nature in these works, and I hope to create images with a slightly different feel. Not an exact description of nature, but a more personal vision.” Copeland encourages other artists who are just discovering plein air painting to do the same. “Draw from your own experiences,” he urges. “You develop a connection with the landscape the more you paint in plein air. Those memories then inform your paintings.”

Christopher Copeland is a 1983 graduate of the College of Visual Arts, in St. Paul, Minnesota and he now resides in Stillwater, Minnesota. In addition to exhibitions in Minneapolis and St. Paul, Copeland’s work has been displayed in New York, Boston, and Ohio as well as galleries in Seattle, Santa Fe, and Scottsdale, Arizona.

For more information on Copeland, visit his website at www.christophercopeland.com, or email him at ccopestudio@aol.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the editorial assistant for American Artist.

Artist of the Month: Lindsey Tull

American Artist — Wed, 07 May 2008 09:50:00 GMT

This Illinois-based artist has a degree in animation but found her true calling was painting portraits and still lifes in oil.

by Naomi Ekperigin

Hurricane Lamp With Candle
2006, oil,
9 x 12. Collection the artist.

Lindsey Tull is a young artist who has had to search for creative outlets. Though she was interested in drawing and painting from a young age, there were very few opportunities to study art seriously. “I’m from a very small town of about 5,000 people,” she explains. “I took the few art classes in my school system, but it wasn’t until college that I found the serious art education I was looking for.” Tull took online classes at the Academy of Art University, in San Francisco, and majored in traditional animation, where she learned a lot about herself as an artist. “I didn’t know what to major in,” the artist admits. “Animation sounded interesting, so I tried it.” She soon found in her course of study that she preferred the required fine-arts classes to those in animation. “I liked using my hands instead of the computer,” she says. “I enjoyed fine arts so much more. Luckily, I’ve now taken most of the courses required to complete a fine-arts degree.”

Old Man, Three-Quarter
View
2006, oil,
16 x 20. Collection the artist.

With plans to return to school, Tull is diligent about maintaining the level of intensity she found in the classroom. She paints five to six hours a day, going back and forth between several pieces. She has tried other media, but prefers oil and paints whatever catches her eye. “There really isn’t an art community here,” she says of her town. “I’ve really taken advantage of the internet and technology; I’ve taken several online classes.” In her figure-drawing classes, Tull drew the model from images on a CD, which allowed her to view the figure from all 360 degrees. “I don’t know how they did it,” she says laughing, “but it really was helpful.” At home, she enlists family members to pose for portraits, and, like any artist, looks around her house for still-life objects.

Old Man In Vest and Cap
2006, oil,
16 x 20. Collection the artist.

“I’ve found portraits to be a real challenge,” says the artist, who rarely paints from photographs. Old Man in Vest and Cap and Old Man, Three Quarter View were done from photographs, but I prefer to paint from life. It’s been really hard capturing the likeness in the face.” Luckily, her family allows her several hours and many sittings during which she can practice.

For her still lifes, Tull begins with several thumbnail sketches in graphite, doing as many as six until the right composition appears. Once the artist has chosen a thumbnail, she sketches in the basic shapes on her canvas in oil. Filling in the details is next, which Tull finds to be the hardest part of the process. “I’m trying to work on letting go and being able to say something is finished without killing myself by focusing on the nuances.” She is largely drawn to striking color combinations or textured materials. “For Egg in Paper Scraps I just saw the paper and thought ‘How can I use this?’” she recalls. “I added the egg and hoped for a more interesting composition.”

Egg in Paper Scraps
2006, oil,
9 x 12. Collection the artist.

With a focus on interesting juxtapositions and a commitment to her newfound calling, Tull is confident and excited to continue her art education--and she still doesn’t let her limited resources slow her down. “I really feel like I’ve gone from pursuing art as a hobby to making it a career.”

For more information on Tull, contact her lnzbeth_03@yahoo.com.

Naomi Ekperigin is the editorial assistant for American Artist.