Ancient Artist: Developing an art career after 50

Hello Frustration My Best Friend

So I finished a painting today.  And started it four hours before I finished.  Not particularly remarkable, one could say, but it is a nice painting at this point, sitting there waiting for me to study it over the next few days and see if I ought to tweak it or just let it be.

Still not remarkable, except for one thing.

Beneath this painting, scraped and sanded down to a nondescript blue-gray, is the evidence of the painting I had been doing, the painting that would not work no matter what, that turned into mud at every turn, and which was one of those paintings where you are interrupted so often you forget what you were looking at - yes, it was one of those paintings that almost convinced me to never paint again.

Except for another thing: if you are trying to be creative, no matter in what area, you have to learn to love frustration.  Because frustration tells you that you need to stop, just for a moment or a day, and take a deep breath.  It tells you that what you are doing is not working, and whether that is due to a technical problem or a weakness in your design or the consistency of your paint or a paint-clogged brush or the fact that you are not thinking about your brushwork - what is not working is something you can fix.  It is not your creativity that is at fault.  It is not your artistic vision that has run away. 

It is something you can fix. 

And that is what is remarkable.  Because no matter how frustrated, or discouraged, or tempted to never pick up a paint brush again, the nature of the artist is to rebound and to attack that problem again with a new strategy.  It may take a day for the rebound.  Or a week.  But trust that it will come.

In the meantime, do what you can to identify what was not working and then problem solve.  Because what frustration really boils down to is your inner voice telling you that inspiration alone will never will save your butt. 

 ********

Juniper, oil, 8 x 10 - Accepted into the OPA Salon Show of Traditional Oils

to be hosted by Crooked Tree Arts Center, Inc, in Petoskey, Michigan,

June 21 through August 31, 2013

 

 

Develop a Personal Approach to Expression

Years ago I attended a workshop in Florence, Italy, to learn more about Renaissance Art.  We were fortunate to have private lectures and personal tours of the museums by a notable Art History Professor, as well as day trips to the countryside.  During this time we were focused on making traditional gesso panels, learning about egg tempera, and painting in some historically jaw-dropping locations.

This photo is of the upper terrace area of Villa Gherardini, where Leonardo reportedly started the Mona Lisa.  I, however, am busy working on a humble plein air watercolor sketch of an urn with flowers.  The Villa is still privately owned and in some disrepair, so our day long stay was restricted to the gardens. 

In the many photos and sketches I brought home,  there was one of the thinning evergreen branches in a centuries old garden maze that was located one terrace down from the garden in the image above.  The branches seemed completely inappropriate for a landscape painting, but when I found the photo recently I decided I would challenge my usual assumptions about composition and color. 

I approached this subject as if it were a portrait or a still life, and I wanted to convey the soft green light of the enclosed maze.  The color palette is  limited to Viridian, Amazonite,Yellow Ochre Light, Cobalt Blue,Transparent Oxide Red, Alizarin, and Titanium White.  The canvas is a textured linen on panel which was at times helpful and at other times problematic.  I may still work on this painting, studying the light falling on some evergreens in my yard to see where I may have missed with the values. If necessary I will sand down areas of thicker paint and repaint until I am satisfied.

The more I study artists in an attempt to understand their approach, I realize how important it is to develop my personal idea of expression.  I evaluate from a distance for the overall success of the design, but it's equally important that the the up-close surface texture be pleasing. Trying to understand how other artists approach and solve similar problems has become an important learning aspect for me now. 

When I first began painting I believed my work should look a certain way.  To some extent, I think there is still pressure on an artist to work loosely within current trends.  But it is equally important to move away from the expected and often repeated.  This is the challenge now, to find my own interpretation of the landscape and to execute it in a successful way.

 

 

Using an Old Standby to Increase Your Color Sensitivity

What you think you know about color - without discovering what you don't know - will only keep you working in the same place, repeating the same color mistakes, without understanding why.

My art professors, all coming from a contemporary background - saw and used color in a unique way, and color charts were used to understand value and "push/pull" contrast, not the full range of color.  But as my painting evolved I began to appreciate color differently, and began looking for ways to increase my sensitivity.

It started when I was listening to an artist share the story from his early years, and how that "boring exercise" grew into a true love of color.  His sophisticated color sense is one of the hallmarks of his work today. That reminded me of Richard Schmid's book Alla Prima, which was on my book shelf, which also talked about color charts, which I had promised myself I would get to "some day."  Followed by a magazine article about another artist whose work I admire for his color sense, also showing...color charts. 

Maybe I need to be hit on the head a few times to get the message. 

So I set the goal of doing color charts. And after struggling with what I had on hand to make my charts, I quickly realized I was defeating the purpose. My results were messy. I forgot to leave space to indicate the colors used.  I was totally disorganized. 

 

Then I found custom made chart board blanks from Randal Gordon McClure, on his website ColorFrontier.com.

 

These are a few of the color charts I've completed in preparation for a painting I have planned. 

 

Repetition in color mixing allowed me to discover that I did not utilize the full value range available. I often perceived colors to be in the "light range" when in fact they were closer to mid-value.  I began to understand which mixtures desaturated quickly, and which pigments could overwhelm every other color.  I discovered some beautiful grays, more options for creating chromatic darks, and learned a cleaner way to mix the color I needed.  If I started with the right two base colors, I could avoid the tendency to keep adding "something else" to get to the right color note.

As artists, we first learn color theory.  Then we use what is learned from books and workshops, even from professors who teach differing viewpoints about the best use of color. And it's just as necessary to find your own understanding, to make color your own, not just a replication of what has been done before.

This is the challenge to the growing artist - to first understand the way you use color, compare that to the way you want to use color, and then find a way to bridge the gap. 

***

Below: First stage of the painting on my easel.  After working on a thumbnail, I used dry brush and wash of viridian, alizarin, and ultramarine blue to set up the value pattern.  I wiped out to get some light areas and spent more time on this stage than I habitually do, wanting to be sure I had a strong foundation.  I usally plunge in recklessly at this point (because I love the act of painting) - so I decided to do some color charts first to settle on my final color choices.  I hope I can achieve my goals of creating beautiful color and brushwork - and my intent at this point is to settle first on the colors I will use, so that I do not repeat old habits of overworking and resorting to the palette knife to get cleaner colors. 

 

_________________________________________________________________________________________

"I just purchased and read your book. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate the info and will be following up on your blog. I turned 50 this year. I started my art career 3 years ago. I read as many art business and marketing books as I can but yours is the first I have found addressing starting out at 50." ~ RT, Oregon

Book - Ancient Wisdom Emerging Artist: the business plan (not just) for the mature artist

Kindle US Store  - Ancient Wisdom Emerging Artist: the business plan (not just) for the mature artist

Art, Philosophy, and the Curly Willow Tree

We spent the weekend cutting down a curly willow tree that had grown too large for the space in our back yard.  As each branch came down I mourned the loss of this tree I loved and often painted, yet realized that the grass needed sunlight, the foundation of our house needed to be free from evasive roots, and the risk of heavy winds eventually toppling the tree into the neighbor’s yard required the removal.  We stacked the curled green branches in a corner of the yard in preparation for the trip to the landfill – and by the following morning the small sparrows and finches that had wintered over in the neighbor’s evergreens had moved into the thicket, thrilled with their new home. 

Now I will have to worry about the wildlife and clearing it away before they start building nests and laying eggs. 

This is life, though, leaving one phase behind, finding new purpose, moving on.  As an artist, I often feel the disappointment of unfulfilled expectations, and my career aspirations compete heavily with realities of life.  In this way I am like the curly willow serving only one purpose, that of shading the yard and providing still life material – instead of seeing the potential beyond one set path.  Understanding this keeps my spirit alive, my zest for following my own artistic aspirations.

I have been reading the book George Inness: Writings and Reflections on Art and Philosophy.  Among the ideas that motived Inness this one stood out: “Indeed, Inness would, in image and word, become a vocal advocate for creating original works of art that would, as he put it, not ‘instruct’ or ‘edify’ his viewers but ‘awaken an emotion’ – any kind of emotion – in them.”  Regardless of his sometimes unorthodox painting methods, or his connections to Swedenborgian religious theory regarding color and numbers, Inness was able to communicate the emotional experience of the landscape that has stood the test of time. 

For me, the important message from Inness, and from other notable landscape artists through the centuries, is that the art of landscape does not lie solely in the craftsman’s ability to apply paint, or the draftsman’s ability to render an accurate tree, or the plein air painter’s ability to turn out a pleasing painting under time and weather pressure. 

It lies in more difficult territory.  It is the same elusive ability of the poet to articulate beauty.  It, perhaps, has a deeper connection to philosophy than to the rules of composition or color theory.  As a practicing, growing, struggling artist I work constantly to achieve these goals, moving from the fundamentals like color charts, to studying composition, to thinking about “what do I want to say” – just like you, just like nearly every other artist out there striving to reach their own goals. 

And it seems to me that these days it’s harder to do for artists over the age of fifty, where the current attitude can be just as disheartening as those attitudes from years ago.  Where the “women are not successful because they give up their art in return for nurturing their families” has been replaced by “older artists need to ‘do art’ to keep their brains healthy and functioning.”  Where the well-meaning assumptions from the status quo are that we are victims of our personalities and our biology, that art is either something we easily trade off or pick up to solve some other “more important” problem. 

Does that idea make you mad?

Weather we are Sunday Painters, or avid competitors, whether we seek recognition or prefer humble isolation, creating Art for the artist is of no less importance than music for the musician, or a novel for the writer. 

And that is the real message of the curly willow.

No matter what form it takes, your need to create and to share the magic with others, will shelter you, whether the branches are high, waving in the wind, or low, protecting the nests. 

 

 

Related articles

Use Your Camera to Identify Muddy Color

Telling Your Creative Block to Take a Hike

Weeping for My Willow

A Willow Tree

Untouchable.

Use Your Camera to Identify Muddy Color

Muddy color is one of those criticisms that is hard to define, falling into the "I know it when I see it" category.  I would like to share my recent experience into how I identify muddy color in my work by using a camera.

This insight developed as I was multi-tasking: working in Photoshop with images of a new painting while also listening to a podcast from AMO Art Chat, featuring David A Leffel and his concept of Abstract Realism.

(If you haven't listened to this podcast, or taken advantage of the resources available to you on Kevin MacPherson's Artist Mentors Online , including the Art Chat programs with Blanche McAlister Harris, Barbara Coleman, and Linda Fisler, then explore the links above.)

In the interview with David A Leffel, the question was raised about muddy color: what is it, how do you identify it, and more importantly, how do you fix it.  While artists often define muddy color as one that does not belong to a specific HUE (ambiguous color identity), David's answer really clicked for me, in part because I was looking at the photo of my painting and wondering why I was so dissatisfied with the sky. 

The definition was this: color should have a clear edge where it ends, and where it begins. 

So now we are also talking about edges - that other thing that is "I know it when I see it."

Below is a section of my painting titled "Rabbit Tracks," the painting I was studying while listening to the podcast. I realized there were at least three major areas that could be described as muddy color, or not having a clear beginning and ending.  These areas were far more noticeable to me as I studied the photograph than they were when I looked at the actual painting - not sure why except that the camera picks up every detail while my eyes (and the graduated lenses of my glasses) often soften and blur what I am looking at and it isn't until later, when I view the painting again, that I realize I've missed the mark. 

 

 

Once I had identified the muddy color I spent time repainting the areas.  As I did so I was reminded again of how the important idea of "unifying masses" is actually another way of talking about using edges and avoiding muddy colors. 

In my rework, I was paying attention to the entire mass of the cloud, background, foreground, and clearly defining the color through the use of the edges - where one color ends, and another begins - even if those colors are close in hue and or value. The other massively important change - at least to my eye - was that by removing the pinks and purples from the sky, and darkening and unifying the background (using raw umber and Hansa yellow medium) the color harmony was defined and now makes a clear statement of warm slanting light on the reds of the foreground vegetation. 

In the earlier version, as you can see just by looking at the small sections, there was a competition between the yellows and the reds - neither was dominant.  As the artist, I had to make the choice as to what was more important and subdue what was not, so that the entire painting communicated a single message.  This was another lesson from listening to the Abstract Realism podcast. 

The image below shows the same general area after the rework.  (You can click on both images for a larger view.)

I see the most important improvement in the cloud mass that now reads visually as I was seeing it, without distracting from the center of interest.  The color in the background vegetation is unified - don't need to get too expressive in this subordinate area.  The pinkish brush mark in the lower left against the yellow highlight defines that area without being distracting and helps to keep the viewer within the painting and not wandering off to the side.  

The compositional pathway is the circle, with the center of interest the foreground plants, but there is also a definate S or Z sub-composition at work here too. 

The finished painting:

Rabbit Tracks, 18 x 24, oil

 

That Pesky Sense of Urgency...

...might not be as urgent when viewed within the larger picture.

Artists who begin at a later age often feel disadvantaged: they've lost too much time and need to catch up.  I felt that way, worrying about the time I didn't have and the paintings I needed to produce before I started to get "good at it."

But an intense need to catch up creatively can often get in the way of what you want to achieve.  There is no race toward recognition, because many brilliant artists continue to work for decades without ever being recognized in the way we often imagine.  Letting go of the idea that validation from others is the only measure of your artistic success is the first step toward developing a sense of balance and personal accomplishment as you follow your artistic path.  While recognition does occur in the form of show acceptances, sales, awards, reputations and associations with fellow artists, these events will not dominate your experience. 

There are actions we can take to help keep things in perspective, become more efficient with our time, and achieve reasonable goals.  Here are a few that I use regularly:

Work in the studio when fully rested.  When I'm mentally or physically tired, I read art magazines, watch teaching DVDs, or go out looking for effective reference photos.

Negotiate Studio Time. Ask for three hours of uninterrupted time in return for mutual time that can include chores, entertainment, or going to the dog park (harder to negotiate).

Paint small studies with a 20 or 30 minute time limit. Learn your pigments, how to manipulate your tools, and composition skills. 

Complete larger work over the course of several days or weeks.  If you are always painting wet-in-wet, practice building up your painting over dry layers.  This can include sanding down the previous day's work and painting on top, using dry brush techniques, or finding new ways to achieve the painterly effects you want no matter what the conditions.

Spend time identifying your strengths and weaknesses, and focus specifically on where you are weak.  We automatically paint to our strengths, then wonder why the work never improves. 

 While there should always be a sense of urgency to get back into the studio, do so with the idea that your goal for that day, that hour, or even those fifteen minutes, is to work on your craft, to explore your creativity, and to allow the creative flow to manifest through your experience. 

 

Summer Morning, Oil

Salon International 13

Greenhouse Gallery of Fine Art

San Antonio, TX

 

_________________________________________________________________________________________

"I just purchased and read your book. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate the info and will be following up on your blog. I turned 50 this year. I started my art career 3 years ago. I read as many art business and marketing books as I can but yours is the first I have found addressing starting out at 50." ~ RT, Oregon

Book - Ancient Wisdom Emerging Artist: the business plan (not just) for the mature artist

Kindle US Store  - Ancient Wisdom Emerging Artist: the business plan (not just) for the mature artist

Kindle UK Store - Ancient Wisdom Emerging Artist: the business plan (not just) for the mature artist 

Why Finding Time is Better Than Having Time

Our collective artistic mythology holds that a true artist is one who devotes all of his time to the craft - it's part of the unspoken bias that if you work at it part-time you are only partly invested.

I get frequent questions from artists who wonder how they can have an art career when they need to work, and don't have the finances to work on their art full time.  We know it takes time to learn the various skills needed - it isn't something you can just drop in and do on an infrequent basis and expect great results. And if there weren't really good reasons to learn and practice and "just do it" there wouldn't be so many successful artists coming out of a strong foundational educational background. 

But it's safer for someone afraid of testing their wings to focus on what might be preventing them  - like the kid who finally makes it to the top of the high dive and then can't jump off because the water is too wet. It's a like holding out for perfect when perfect doesn't exist.

Having experienced this - from working full time, then part time, then completely unemployed/semi-retired, to needing to return to part time work, - perfect is what you have, not what you think it should be. 

Yes, there will be days when you're too tired to try.  Days when your frustration levels make you feel like you're pushing rocks uphill. 

But these frustrations occur whether or not you have the time - because it isn't the amount of time you have that makes the difference. 

It's whether or not you are willing to commit to the time you find. 

For some reason finding time changes the way you look at what you have in front of you.  It's a gift you are giving to yourself and your art.

Where as having time is more like an excuse not to take out the trash.

 

 

 

Late Bloomers : What Above Ground can tell us about Art, Age, and Experience

One focus of this blog is to share information about artists as they age. 

In part this is to refute the idea that older artists lose value as they age, but also to argue against the belief that adults who pursue art in their "retirement years" do so for inconsequential reasons. 

To dismiss the artistic investigation by an adult over fifty, and certainly over sixty or seventy, as “pastime activity” does a disservice to those who put the idea of an “art career” on hold for decades due to circumstance, obligation, location, or immaturity.

And I reject that argument. 

I recently discovered the Research Center for Arts and Culture, supported by the Pollock-Krasner Foundation and the Cornell Institute for Translational Research on Aging, and their 2006 Research Report titled ABOVE GROUND: Information on Artists III: Special Focus New York City Aging Artists.  Dr. Robert N. Butler, President and CEO of the International Longevity Center, explains that “Not only does this study combat the misperceptions of aging, it sheds new light by the unique solutions artists embrace in living… It shows them as productive, self-aware and savvy. And it provides some new ways of thinking about all of us as we age.”

This study reveals some interesting facts: for instance, the experience of being a professional artist (as in a life-long commitment to art) seems to be universal.  We do not need to be living in a major art market to share this aspect of being an artist.  But I would add that the requirements of researching specific populations create an unintended bias, in this case one against the Late Bloomers, those who meet the definition of being a serious artist – life-long pursuit, educational accomplishments, exhibition records, sales, and members of artistic communities – but when asked the questions “When did you start and where do you live?” we can only answer “a decade ago and we live everywhere."

It is important to note that the artists in this study were all visual artists living in specific areas of New York City, between the ages of 65 and 91, who self-identified as professional artists, answering questions such as I consider myself an artist, the main body of my activity is some form of art, and I have a demonstrated record of exhibition, performances, installations, publications or other evidence of my art. 

Here are some of the more interesting facts that caught my attention:

1. Artists are very invested in their careers, which are not seen as traditional experiences but circumstances that provide a high level of life satisfaction.
2. More female artists than male experienced interruptions in their careers.  Women also reported more gender bias (not surprisingly men reported none), while all artists reported experiencing discrimination based on age and choice of medium.
3. The core experience of being an artist is universal, with less satisfaction regarding critical review, career opportunities, and income, and high levels of satisfaction from personal autonomy and validation as an artist.
4. Artists never retire; they work in their studios daily.
5. Artists rank higher in Life Satisfaction Scales than the rest of the population, even as they age.
6. Social networks – and daily communication within those artist-to-artist networks – are important to productivity.
7. A majority of artists continue to sell their work, but income from art remains a small percentage of overall income.

I often receive emails from readers wanting Career Advice.  And this is what I have learned: even though this blog has a subtitle of "developing an art career after fifty,"  your Art Career is not likely to meet the definition of a career in our youth-oriented, income-measured, and single-goal-oriented culture.  At times the artist’s life can be difficult to sustain economically.  It is not easily justified to others who expect traditional cause-and-effect results. And it is more likely to be a broad, multi-dimensional, life-long experience that is highly satisfying to self-aware, productive, and flexible individuals who cannot imagine living without producing their art. 

Most of us consider this a fair trade-off. 

 

“How are you doing today?”
97-year old visual artist: “Well, I’m above ground.”

                                                —IOA III Aging Study

“Art is the only thing that’s left in the world.”

                                                —Homeless mixed media artist, age 72, one of the many quotes from Above Ground

 

IMPORTANT LINKS: http://www.artsandcultureresearch.org/

 

after thoughts:  When my mother passed away a few years ago I received a folder containing all of my report cards, from kindergarten to the end of high shcool.  I was an average student, but consistently, I received an A in art from every teacher, every year.  My parents were unimpressed.  I took my cues from them, and wandered in the wilderness until I grew up at age fifty. 

Starting early does not tell you whether a person has the talent to be a successful artist: it only tells you that they grew up in a supportive, enriching, artistic environment where they were mentored early and encouraged to achieve their goals. 

It can also take you a decade to reach the level of professional accomplishment that puts you in the game, and another decade to begin to see significant results. 

That leaves you a few more decades to play with, give or take your starting point. 

Telling Your Creative Block to Take a Hike

Creative block is often countered with computer time.  It seems logical - you can't think what to do so you read your facebook page, watch that video of the cats playing pattycake, check out other artist sites looking for inspiration.

So it's going to be really frustrating when I tell you that reasarchers are now verifying that spending time in the great outdoors and away from the computer has a huge impact on creativity.

Scientists don't fully understand what is happening, whether it's being unpluged from technology, or exercise, or just experiencing the great outdoors, but the results from the RAT tests that they administered to volunteers produced some startling results: creativity is significantly improved by time spent away from our electronic lives.

Of course the plein air painters going all the way back to Monet probably knew this and were keeping it to themselves.  They shared the part about needing to paint from life, but if they'd said "It will help your brain become more nimble and creative," how many of us would still be camped out in our studios?

If that isn't enough motive, the research further suggests that being on the grid 24/7 actually alters the neurons in the brain, with questions about reversibility when it comes to attention span, or whether people "will be totally hosed when it comes to consuming art more complex than a GIF or longer than 140 characters?"¹

It's worth considering the next time you start surfing the web in order to distract yourself from creative block. 

 

1.  Put Down the iPad, lace Up the Hiking Boots, by Kevin Charles Redmon,  is the primary source of information in this post.  Thank you.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

"I just purchased and read your book. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate the info and will be following up on your blog. I turned 50 this year. I started my art career 3 years ago. I read as many art business and marketing books as I can but yours is the first I have found addressing starting out at 50." ~ RT, Oregon

Book - Ancient Wisdom Emerging Artist: the business plan (not just) for the mature artist

Kindle US Store  - Ancient Wisdom Emerging Artist: the business plan (not just) for the mature artist

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays

Since the World didn't end today I guess it's safe to send this :>)