The Oil Painting Blog : oil painting

Seeing Double?

Patricia Watwood — Thu, 16 May 2013 03:34:00 GMT

I just finished a very interesting commission. I've shared my oil painting, Pandora, on Artist Daily before. It was one of the central paintings from my 2012 exhibit at Forbes Gallery. I got a lot of positive feedback on that painting--and then got an inquiry from a collector, "Is Pandora still available?" Happily I had already sold it, but the collector and I started talking about doing a second version, and the historic tradition of multiple versions of successful paintings. We both agreed that a commission of a second version would be a great project.


These two images are so similar, you could do a search and find for small details. I even have to look twice to figure out whether they are the same or different. Pandora by Patricia Watwood, 2011, oil on linen, 30 x 26.

I'd never done an autograph copy of a fine art oil painting before, and I did not want to just make a copy of the first painting. How could I make another one and create the same level of quality and freshness, rather than a technical repeat that wouldn't have the verve of the first? I think we've all seen 2^nd and 3^rd versions of famous works by artists in museum exhibits, and there's often a sense that the first is the best one and the others are derivative. So, my challenge was to make a second version that was every bit as "first rate" as the original.

The collector and I agreed upon some basic working strategies. For one thing, I would not copy the original oil painting, but re-create the painting from life--particularly by doing the figure work again from the live model. I would also re-set the "still-life" objects that create Pandora's seat--the pile of junk around her in the foreground. I recreated the set-up and placed the objects so that the composition would be an improvisation on a theme, rather than a rote repetition of the details. Lastly, I made the picture at a slightly different size--two inches larger in each direction.

To proceed, the first thing I did was make a full-size black and white copy of the original painting (from a photograph of the artwork), and transfer that to the new canvas. I rubbed soft pastel on the back of the paper copy, and scribed the lines on the front with a pencil to transfer the drawing. Next, I did my underpainting (in my usual limited palette) by copying the original painting. After that was mapped out on the new canvas, I set the original aside and began to finish the second painting on it's own, referring to the first only to check general color and value consistency and design.


		Pandora 2012 by Patricia Watwood, 2012, oil on linen, 32 x 28.

In the end, I was very pleased with both the process and the result of the second work. Repeating the composition caused me to reflect on how a personal visual language has been developing through this work, and others I'm making in this vein. I was no longer asking myself: "How should I do this?" and "Where should this hand go?" I could dwell on larger questions like: "What is personal and meaningful about these things I'm painting?" and "How can I give this more deftness and grace?" I'm learning that this is one of the great boons of working on a series--that you can dig deeper into the "why," and explore variations rather than building the machine from scratch each time. I made the figure just a bit bigger--and learned how just a small change in scale can change the impact and technical handling in the figure. There were a few passages that I kept almost exactly the same, and that gave me confidence that "Yes, I did like how I solved that problem last time." Like anything we repeat, practice makes perfect. The second painting went very smoothly, and I felt increased confidence in the execution and result.

I'll leave you with a word of praise for the art collectors out there, who play a crucial role in the development of an artist. I have been lucky enough to work with a few collectors who are deeply committed to cultivating art and talent. When you have a patron who is both setting a high expectation, and trusting you to be your best self, the outcome can be optimal for both parties. Collectors who buy the work of living artists get to go to "Art Heaven," and this direct support of artists makes the world a better place for all of us who strive for the continuance of excellence in the arts. So, thank you, dear collector.

--Patricia

Adept in Every Genre

MaureenSharon — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 18:44:00 GMT

Discovering David Ligare's work was a great gift. Adept in every genre, he is master of composition, light, and color. With a classical sensibility and an ardent love of antique Greek and Roman culture, he is simply brilliant, and his work is beyond gorgeous. (One of his landscapes is on the cover.)

This May issue of The Artist's Magazine celebrates the range of media that contemporary artists are lucky enough to work with: in addition to oil painting (Ligare); we have colored pencil (Joseph Crone, John P. Smolko, Arlene Steinberg, and Shawn Falchetti experiment with different surfaces in order to attain odd and enthralling effects.); acrylic painting (Mark Mehaffey tests JKHolbein's new line of paints and Charles Gibbons infuses abstraction with an Eastern mysticism); finally, Stephen Quiller relates the history of an ancient medium, casein, and shows how it can make a splash in the present and future. We're very proud of the issue and we think you'll love it, too.

--Maureen

Editor, The Artist's Magazine

Serious Serendipity & More

MaureenSharon — Thu, 04 Apr 2013 03:29:00 GMT

So excited about the April issue of The Artist's Magazine!

We first saw the painting now on the cover of our April issue, Aine, Death Valley (oil painting, 20 x 30) when we were judging entries in The Artist's Magazine's 2011 Annual Art Competition. We loved Katie's work, even though she didn't (that year) win a prize (next year she did!). Our very own Christine McHugh (managing editor for The Artist's Magazine) had a lively chat with Katie and the result is "Serious Serendipity."

While Katie is as impulsive as she is talented, Argentine artist Alejandro Rosemberg is grounded in the classical tradition. Read about his measured approach in the April issue as well ("Classical Style in a Contemporary Context"). Finally, Cherie Haas and I took a trip to a local framer's studio to get the scoop on the newest and most archival ways to frame works on paper for "In The Frame." All this and more in the April issue, on sale now. Don't miss it.

--Maureen

Editor, The Artist Magazine

Investing in Art

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 08 Jan 2013 04:31:00 GMT

I love my Honda Fit. And while that may seem to have nothing to do with art, actually, it does.

You see, I drive my Honda Fit everywhere and in the process of its being used it gets dusty, the tires see wear, the interior windows next to where my Toddler sits get coated with whatever sticky stuff she's got on her hands and smears onto the glass. (I know. I don't want to know much more than that, either.)


Art pays off in happiness dividends. Instantly, a fine art painting or any other kind of art provides color, depth, and emotion to our life. Dancer by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

Honestly, if I kept my Honda Fit inside the garage and never drove it for, say, 10 years, it would look exactly the way it did the day I bought it and I could resell it -- maybe at a profit -- because it would be such a great investment!

But you know, people don't buy cars to keep as investments. They buy them to drive in them, and when it's the right car, like my cute, sassy, blazing barbecue orange Honda Fit, they enjoy the process.

If more people thought about making art this way, more people would own and enjoy painting art. But all of a sudden, when people look at a painting, they go into this "I Must Make a Profit on This" investment mode -- even if the artwork they're looking at is a limited edition print for $80. Somehow, they tell themselves, if they purchase this, they need to be able to resell it, ten years down the road, for $200, because that's what you do with art -- you buy it as an investment.

As an artist -- you've heard this before, haven't you?

What a sad, limited world view, one that keeps people from enhancing their aesthetic lives and their home's walls. The best reason to buy painting art-or any kind of art for that matter -- is because you like it, because when you see the oil painting or the print on your wall it makes you happy, because you want to have it in your life, because -- like my Honda Fit -- it's smart, sassy, sophisticated, and fun -- in short, that painting is You.

That's most likely what you want people to say about your own painting art, and that's why you buy the work of other artists yourself. Let's be bold about this and counteract this pervasive investment message and, one by one, we'll let people know that great art is a great investment because it pays off, instantly, in happiness dividends.

--Carolyn

The One and Only You

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 25 Dec 2012 04:39:00 GMT

The Norwegian Artist and I walk 3-5 miles every day, broken up in two or three sessions. It gets the dog out, me off the chair in front of the computer, and the Norwegian from behind his oil painting easel. During the break, we propound to one another correct solutions to national, international, and domestic problems.


		There's no one quite like you in this whole entire world. Celebrate that as you learn how to oil paint. Mesa Walk by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

Unless it's raining. At that point, I stay in, regardless of the Norwegian's exasperated sigh or the dog's pleading look.

It's not so much that I'm inordinately difficult as that I wear glasses, and I really, really hate droplets spattered all over the lenses because then my whole world looks blotchy. While I subconsciously realized this, it took me years before I thought to communicate my reasons to the Norwegian, who, now that he wears reading glasses and understands the irritation of fingerprints or dust on the lenses, nodded and said, "I can see that. Why don't you wear a hat?"

Well, at least we achieved partial understanding. The Norwegian is content to accept that this is the way I am, and on rainy days he and the dog share special time together.

What about you? Do you do something a certain way because of something unique about you?

Do you find it more comfortable to sit when you are oil painting, but everybody you know says that you should stand while putting oil on canvas? Or do you stand closer to your easel than many people do because that's how your eyes focus best? How about light? Maybe you prefer it coming from one side or another or even behind you -- possibly because you wear glasses and they catch a reflection. Or maybe you paint very very quickly, and other artists say that you should slow down.

Before you hang your head and mumble that everyone else is probably right, and you're wrong, as usual, think about me and my glasses. You may have an excellent reason for doing what you do and how you do it and that reason is intimately tied in with something distinctive about you. Take some time and think it through -- not so that you have to answer the people critiquing you, but so that you can answer yourself about what is right for your oil painting art. It'll be the best painting lesson you give yourself.

--Carolyn

A Dreadful Flood of the Unexpected

Carolyn Henderson — Thu, 20 Dec 2012 04:25:00 GMT

While it was a lousy summer for tomatoes, something in the air made the pumpkins and winter squash particularly prolific, and we find ourselves with a workshop full of the stuff.


What we are convinced is a flood of trouble may actually be a sea of opportunity. Golden Opportunity by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

Like most people of my generation, my primary experience with winter squash is baked, smashed, and slathered with butter and brown sugar, and while I've become remarkably adaptable in my grown-up years, my inner child simply refuses to eat, or make, this stuff, which means that I have to get really creative, and I am, thinking, dreaming, cooking, and even writing all things squash (Awash with Squash).

In the process of dealing with this abundance of unusual, unlooked for, and unrequested bounty, I came to realize that this is the story of our lives as artists and painters, because if we don't realize what we have, then we will 1) miss out on our ability to advance as artists and hone our oil painting techniques and 2) possibly squander or let rot valuable painting resources in ourselves.

Maybe you, like me, have been presented with a lot of something that you're not familiar with and don't want to use. How much better, you think, to have buckets of strawberries, or chocolate, or asparagus.

But you don't have those things. You have squash -- and if you forget about feeling bad because you don't have strawberries or chocolate or asparagus, and concentrate, instead, on using what you do have to the best of your ability, you will 1) advance in your oil painting skills and 2) learn to paint using those valuable resources that are inside you ready to be tapped.

Are you not a dynamic, exciting person who does ad lib demos and wows audiences to the point that they snatch up everything in your art booth? Strawberries.

Then talk to people, quietly, and get to know them, and share sincerely about yourself and your oil painting art. Squash.

Do you get cold easily, shudder in the wind, and squint at outside light during a plein air painting session? Chocolate.

Then brew a cup of tea and enjoy the cozy atmosphere of your studio. Squash.

Look around you with your painter's eye. See what you have a lot of, and use it. It won't be the same as what your neighbor or another artist has, but if you worry about what you don't have, you won't focus on using what you do.

--Carolyn

What a Roux Has to Do with Youx

Carolyn Henderson — Thu, 13 Dec 2012 04:03:00 GMT

Our youngest daughter, Tired of Being Youngest, recently started culinary school, which means that we're eating a lot better these days. It's not so much that she's doing a lot of experimenting on us -- most nights she's home late and doing book homework -- but on weekends she creates, and I watch. Then, during the week, I copy.


We don't have to look gentle and patient to exhibit some of these characteristics. Queen Anne's Lace by Steve Henderson.

This last week I made roux (pronounced "roo," like the Winnie the Pooh character) -- a flour/butter concoction that you gently and patiently stir over low heat until it turns nutty brown. Added to soup, it transforms lunch into something decadently divine.

Now I've known about roux for years but never made it -- that "gently and patiently" part always tripped me up. But it wasn't until I tasted what it does to tomato soup, thanks to one of those weekend practice sessions of our daughter's, that I realized what I've been missing all these years. Surely, I could be gentle and patient for 15 minutes.

That's soup. What about oil painting?

I'm willing to bet that there's a product or oil painting art technique or method that has been kicking around in the back of your mind for years, but you haven't tried it because of, well, that "gentle and patient" part.

"It can't make that much of a difference" you tell yourself, and don't do it again.

You may be right -- it might not make much of a difference at all. Or, you may be missing out on something -- like a truly delectable, complex tomato soup -- and not know it.

Why not give it a try? Go ahead -- doux it. What's that fine art oil painting process you have a feeling could enhance your process? Leave me a comment and let me know, and then go do it and report back!

--Carolyn

A Simple Productivity Tip from Da Vinci

Will Kemp — Tue, 11 Dec 2012 18:43:00 GMT

Ever wondered where Da Vinci found the time to create all his masterpieces? Alongside his fine art painting he managed to dabble as a scientist, geologist, architect, mathematician, engineer, and anatomist with a bit of aeronautical design thrown in for good measure!

So how can we adopt a little bit of Da Vinci in our own practice? One of the most simple ways is to use a colored ground for our painting art. Or, as Da Vinci favored, an imprimatura.


Self-portrait by Leonardo Da Vinci, red chalk drawing, 1510-1515.

An imprimatura is an initial stain of color painted onto a white ground. It is usually created using an earth color such as burnt umber or raw sienna. When painted onto your canvas it provides you with a transparent toned ground to work onto. (For more oil painting terms and definitions, here's my free online Glossary for Oil Painting Terms--An Essential Guide for Beginners.)

Why does it speed up your process as a painting artist? The toned ground acts as your mid tone. You then just have to work on the lights and darks. This means you can quickly establish a feel and mood for the painting with very little effort.

The name Imprimatura comes from the Italian for 'first paint layer' and often, the initial stain is left visible in areas of the finished painting.

You can use this painting technique to prepare a selection of different colored surfaces that can be perfect for quick oil painting sketches and poster studies.

Maybe a burnt sienna imprimatura for an autumnal scene, or a terre-verte for a landscape painting?

By knocking down the white glare of the pre-primed canvas, you can quickly get your ideas down and speed up your painting time in the process.

To get started with an imprimatura try using a raw umber from your painting palette. It is a neutral, semi-transparent tone that is ideal to apply to your surface. It creates a unified layer of neutral tone that dries quickly.

How to Apply an Imprimatura

1 - Place a few small dots of raw umber evenly around the canvas.

2 - Then dip your painting brush into a small amount of turpentine.

3 - Now evenly scrub the turpentine with a coarse bristle painting brush over the small drops of paint into the surface of the canvas until all the white has been eliminated.
You are looking for a translucent, even thin layer of paint, like a stain.

Toning as such creates a clean, strong foundation for subsequent paint layers.

You can now block in your drawing with the raw umber, which is thinned to a fluid, flexible consistency with turpentine and a touch of linseed oil.

If you'd like to learn more oil painting terms I've just published a Glossary of Oil terms for beginners.

--Will

Why Are Brush Sizes as Confusing as a Currency Converter?

Will Kemp — Tue, 04 Dec 2012 04:59:00 GMT

How does brush sizing work and where do you start?

Have you every ordered some new brushes online, feeling pretty confident they'll be the perfect size for your latest oil on canvas creation? After all you spent all afternoon researching them. Only to then be bitterly disappointed when the painting supplies arrive?


		Choosing painting supplies such as a painting brush can be troublesome if you assume each manufacturer sizes their brushes according to the same system.

They were the number you saw in the magazine but have turned out to be either far too small, or far too big. Where did you go wrong?

You aren't alone. Painting artists struggle with this all the time when deciding how to paint and with what brushes. Selecting the right painting brush size can be very tricky as every manufacturer's sizes are different. There is no universal sizing system, so a size 10 in one brand can be completely different from another brand.

Confused? Here is a quick painting brush guide to keep in mind next time you visit the art store:

All brushes increase in size depending on the number, so a size 14 will always be larger than a size 12, whatever the brand.

There are other numbers on the brushes that indicate the series number (often abbreviated to SER). This is usually 4 digits long, for example: SER 6474. This helps to identify a brush correctly when ordering.

Brushes can come in short and long handles. Short handles are best for detailed work or painting on the flat. Longer handles are best if you intend to stand at the easel.

The longer the length of bristle, the more flex there is in the brush. A short length of brush hair will appear to be much stiffer and coarser than a longer length--even if the bristle is the same softness of hair. This length is called the 'length out' and a long length out was favored by the Old Masters.

Pro painting art tip: When you are next in the art store, flick your thumb from left to right over the edge of the brush. This will give you a feel for the 'snap' of the brush. The brush will 'crack' when you first flick it, this is the gum arabic that has been used to set the head. It's advisable to rinse the new brush before use to remove any excess gum arabic.

So the ultimate question is, which size should I buy?

I tend to go by the width of the brush and the length of the bristles, rather than the size or number.

To get started with a small acrylic paintings or oil painting art piece (under A3), I would recommend:

Round brush 6mm - 7mm in width with a 25mm length out.
Filbert brush 10mm in width with a 16mm - 20mm length out.

Of course, to find the perfect brush for each person can take a little while but this should point you in the right direction. Do you agree? Where did you start in terms of painting brushes? Leave a comment and let me know.

--Will

Will Kemp is an award-winning professional artist from the U.K. He teaches classical painting techniques with a modern approach, so you can discover how to paint & draw in the quickest time possible. Will creates weekly videos at Will Kemp Art School about painting, drawing & creativity.

Is the Devil in the Detail?

Will Kemp — Thu, 29 Nov 2012 04:41:00 GMT

How to let go of small brush addiction so your paintings can move on to become more gestural

If you lost all of your brushes, which one would you miss the most?

For me, it's a 12 year old Filbert bristle brush that has lost its shape, has unruly hairs, and is caked in paint. In other words, it's perfect.


Transitioning from a large to small brush in an oil painting can be problematic if you do it too fast, without establishing your big shapes first.

But often, for beginners, their prize possession is a number 000, the smallest, thinnest detail brush.

I can appreciate that there is something so pleasing about a detail brush, it can be hard not to resist. It's a bit like adding whipped cream to your coffee, you know you shouldn't do it but it tastes so damn good!

Getting over 'small brush addiction' can instantly give your oil painting art a boost and help you develop your skills as a painter.

The obsession hits hardest when you're making the switch from drawing or sketching to mastering oil painting techniques. The familiarity of a small, sharp point is comforting, yet unbeknown to you, ultimately damaging to your painting skills.

You start to work in a 'piecemeal' approach. This is where you focus on one small section at a time rather than bringing the painting together as a whole.

But what if you dream of producing work with energy, gestural marks and movement, yet everything you produce looks flat, lacking that certain style you know is in you?

The solution

Take a few words of advice from a master of gestural marks, John Singer Sargent, who is credited with saying,

'Start with a broom & end with a needle'

So find the biggest brush you have, often a 2 inch decorators brush is good, work on a larger scale, 60 x 60 cm is a good starting point, and go for it!
Try to paint as much as you can before changing your brush down a size.

"But, don't I need a small brush for the details?"

No, you need a deft touch.

When studying at the Angel Academy of Art, Florence, Master John Angel would repeatably say, 'The Devil is the detail' to emphasis the importance of establishing your big forms first, rather than diving into the details too early on.

If you establish the general feel of the painting using a big brush first, not only will you work faster with more expression, but your dexterity with the brush will improve.
When you do finally succumb to the charms of your small detail brush the marks will sing, in comparison to the broad, gestural strokes surrounding them.

--Will

"Greatness Is Determined by Service"

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 30 Oct 2012 04:45:00 GMT

I hesitate to admit that some of my education these days is derived from Facebook, thanks to those seemingly endless placards with quotes that people are always posting: "I think it's weird how some days I feel skinny and some days I feel like a busted can of biscuits." While this is cute, be assured that it's not what I'm talking about today. I just tossed it in to add a smile to your morning.

This is more like it: "Everyone has the power for greatness, not for fame but greatness, because greatness is determined by service." I don't know if Martin Luther King really said this or not, but his image is behind the quote, and it sounds like something he would say.

Whether or not anyone ever saw it or recognized it, the Grand Canyon would always be a place of
greatness and awe. Many Hued, signed limited edition print by Steve Henderson.

If you have made any study of art history, you have no doubt been stopped cold by an oil painting artist or watercolor painter or draftsman whom you have never heard of before but whose images haunt you with their deft skill and deep wrenching emotion. Sometimes, when you read further, you find out that this artist was never recognized in his lifetime, isn't really recognized now, but is considered in certain circles to be truly, truly great, but unfortunately undiscovered.

As King observes, there is a difference between greatness and fame, and sometimes the two do not go together. Other times, quite unfairly—but as our mothers always told us, "life isn't fair"—fame accompanies a lack of greatness. Ideally, the two mesh, but while the fame part is largely out of our individual control, the greatness part is not.

You can be a great artist. It will take time to develop your fine art painting skills, practice, determination, and humility, because a major part of improving in our oil painting art is recognizing our need to improve. Intriguingly, the very attributes that contribute toward your greatness as an artist also benefit you as an individual human being, with the result being that you attain greatness, whether or not you achieve fame.

--Carolyn

Money and Fame May Not Be Enough

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 23 Oct 2012 03:31:00 GMT

What is success? Be honest with yourself. Do you truly believe that a successful person is defined by the car he drives, the title after her name, or their number of Twitter followers? Life is bigger, wider, deeper than what you can fit into a shoebox. Walk onto that beach with confidence, knowing that you are a success.-- From Start Your Week with Steve, a free weekly e-mail newsletter to help people start Monday off on the right foot, or just to start it at all.


Many times, we can benefit by heeding the advice we give to others, including the children in our lives. Sophie and Rose, an original oil painting, signed limited edition print, miniature study, and note card by Steve Henderson.

Maybe it's because I've raised four kids. Maybe it's because I homeschooled them. I don't know, but what I do know is that when it comes to your children, your primary goal is that they turn out to be decent, kind, sympathetic, understanding people, and you hope that they'll be happy.

And then you look around you, and you see scores of famous, wealthy people, some of whom seem decent, kind, sympathetic, and understanding and many others who do not, and you think, money and fame must not be enough. And they're not.

We know that deep down because didn't all of our mothers tell us so? Yet, we persist in defining our success by our name (Do people know us by one like Shakespeare, Lincoln, Napoleon, Madonna, Renoir are?), our sales, or our bank account.

If we want to be successful oil painting artists or top watercolorists or stellar acrylic painters, then let's start with what people often pay attention to least when it comes to the idea of success in the fine art painting world: the quality of our art. Get good. Get really really good. Work hard, struggle through, yell with triumph over your latest oil painting, and then go kiss the dog. That's success.

--Carolyn

Frustration Isn't Always a Bad Thing

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 16 Oct 2012 04:08:00 GMT

"Frustration isn't always such a bad thing. It's a sign that you're trying something new, different, or outside your level of familiarity, and in working your way through it (and you will) you conquer this challenge and move on to the next one." -- Start Your Week with Steve, a free enewsletter from artist Steve Henderson


Life is not always a cup of tea, but a break to enjoy that "cup of tea" enables us to endure, and conquer, our frustration. Tea by the Sea, an original oil painting, signed limited edition print, and note card by Steve Henderson.

One of the most satisfying things I do is teaching another person how to knit. And every time I do so, I conclude the lesson with this encouragement: "You've just learned. While knitting is fairly simple consisting of basically two stitches, until you practice and do it over and over and over, you will not get good.

"And in the process of practicing, and learning how to be good, you will find that you forget some things, or that your knitting looks uneven, or that you drop stitches and you don't know how to get back. And you will get frustrated.

Not only is this normal, but this is good, and if you're not getting frustrated, then you're probably not pushing yourself beyond your existing skill. You are not stupid. You are not unusual. You are not weird. You are normal. You are above normal when you accept the challenge, fight it, and win. Now, go and knit."

This same advice applies in anything you do, including and especially including creating a fine art painting or sculpture. You won't get better if you don't practice those oil painting techniques and push yourself with new painting instruction; and if you do it a lot and push yourself outside your existing painting skills, you can expect to get frustrated because you are getting somewhere.

So, go get frustrated.

--Carolyn

Reconnect with Your Passion

johnandann@theartistsroad — Tue, 09 Oct 2012 03:31:00 GMT

The loss of an artist and teacher from childhood has caused me to reflect upon not only her life and work, but also those lessons that she taught me. The myriad distractions of daily life, from the constant need to earn money for survival to the many mundane chores and tasks required to keep it all going can combine at times to make us temporarily lose our focus in art-making. Remembering the passion a teacher found in fine art painting and how she worked to instill that passion in her students has helped to reconnect me with the roots of my own passion for art-making.


Early Morning, Venice by Robert Henri, 1891, oil on canvas.

Here is a favorite quote from a well-known book she first introduced me to, The Art Spirit, by Robert Henri:

"There are moments in our lives, there are moments in a day, when we seem to see beyond the usual. Such are the moments of our greatest happiness. Such are the moments of our greatest wisdom. If one could but recall his vision by some sort of sign. It was in this hope that the arts were invented. Sign-posts on the way to what may be. Sign-posts toward greater knowledge."

Henri was a wonderfully skilled artist and teacher, and The Art Spirit is filled with inspiring quotes that reach out to us today with words of encouragement and focus.

"Art cannot be separated from life. It is the expression of the greatest need of which life is capable, and we value art not because of the skilled product, but because of its revelation of a life's experience." --Robert Henri

We are thankful to have had good teachers and we are reminded now that the greatest lessons they taught us have the power to instruct and encourage us throughout our lives. We believe that Henri was correct in pointing out that our lives as artists are our art. As such, we must keep in mind that the road toward greater knowledge is a life-long one, and we must remember to look for those sign-posts left for us by our teachers and other artists which help to keep us on our artistic path.

Please join us on The Artist's Road for more articles, interviews and step-by-step painting demonstrations.

--John and Ann

They Appreciate First-Rate Art

Patricia Watwood — Tue, 02 Oct 2012 17:05:00 GMT

I'm so excited to tell you about the opening night for the Contemporary American Realism exhibit at the Beijing World Art Museum. We were all blown away by the scale of the presentation, the press core, the ceremony, and the huge crowd. This has certainly been the experience of a lifetime. I feel so encouraged about the future of realist American painting when I see such a first-rate exhibition and the enthusiastic audience that welcomed it. The Chinese clearly appreciate artwork that is very carefully and patiently created, showing the very best oil painting techniques and creative development.

A picture says a thousand words, right artists? So, let me tell the story with photos and captions from the event.

Walking In: Katie O'Hagan, Noha Valenti, me, and Nanette Fluhr dressed in our best
for the opening. You know I've got a bottle of champagne!

Ready for the Ribbon Cutting: This is what you see when you enter the exhibit.
The large billboard has all the American artists' faces greeting the viewer.
The ribbons are set for the big ceremony.

Paparazzi!: Wow--there were a lot of cameras! This was only half of the total press core. We must
have posed for a thousand pictures. The Chinese blogosphere was full of news about the show.

Crowd Control!: Here's the group posing for the press. We are shown with some of the Chinese
artists from the Chinese Academy of Oil Painting (more about that later). The American artists
attending the opening are Greg Mortenson, Daniel Sprick, Ron Sherr, Katie O'Hagan,
Paul McCormack, Patricia Watwood, Tom Valenti, Nanette Fluhr, Max Ginsberg, Michael Klein,
and Joshua LaRock.

A View of the Museum: Look at that gorgeous space! Marble floors and columns, very spacious
hanging, great lighting--we are talkin' fancy!

LaRock Star!: I have to tell you that Joshua LaRock is the man on fire here. They are crazy
about his work and I think he strained his fingers signing autographs. He is pictured here
with our gracious host, the museum director, Ms. Wang Limei.

LaRock fans: Here's the crowd around Josh's paintings. How great is it to see such appreciation
for awesome American fine art oil painting?! What an inspiration.

A Tony Curanaj fan: I'm a huge fan of Tony's work, and so is this museum-goer snapping
up-close photos of many favorite pieces.

Many thanks!: Here's our host, Ms. Wang, and our ACOPAL Treasurer, Mr. Stephen Ling. Hats off
to Stephen for being an indefatigable host, translator, party arranger, and cruise director.
By the way, he's also awesome at Karaoke!

Wonder Wall: Did you notice the background in the last photo? It's a huge billboard showing
all the participating artists and studio views. (I couldn't get the whole display in one shot--this
is just the center section!)

OMG, Jumbotron!: Yep, that is my painting on a huge video display outside the museum,
where they played a slideshow of highlights of the show. My heart skipped a few beats when
I saw my oil painting up there.

A Gala View: Paul McCormick, Tom Valenti, Greg Mortenson, Michael Klein, and Ron Sherr
have a celebratory drink on the terrace at sunset. What a spectacular view.

What a thrill this event has been. We have been shown outstanding hospitality, and made friends with the dedicated realist artists and fellow fine art oil painting artists at the Chinese Academy. I think we are all inspired to get back to our studios and work even harder to create truly excellent and meaningful artwork. There is nothing like a good shot of appreciation to make you really want to pull out the stops in your painting.

Now I will go back to my studio, get back to work, and know that on the other side of the world in China, there are individuals who understand and care about the work I am creating. What an amazing thing. It has made me realize that you just never know who is seeing and appreciating your painting. You may be alone in your studio creating, but if you make the best art you can, then please, please, please have faith that the audience is out there cheering for you--even on the other side of the world.

--Patricia