"the thing"

Temptation

Original oil painting  14x18"

by Susan Roux

What are you striving to capture in your paintings?

Place a bunch of artists in front of the same scene or set-up and everyone has a different interpretation. Are we not seeing the same colors? Are we not seeing the same light?

There is much more to painting than meets the eye...

Emotion. Our own unique response to whatever subject we choose to paint. Even the same artist on a different day will interpret the same subject differently. Who we are. What we are. Everything we've been through physically and emotionally effects how we place paint to canvas. I've been reminded of this recently.

I've noticed over the years when my actual life feels out of my control, my art tightens. It's as though I'm looking to have control over something when everything else feels chaotic. I have a student who reacts completely in the opposite way. She unleashes wildly and boldly in an emotional abstract outpour that has the illusion of somebody screaming!

What happens to your art when life feels out of your control?

Even when life is going along normally, we focus on capturing different things. Is it a feeling you're trying to capture? Perhaps creating an ambiance? It is technical fundamentals? Is it certain colors you wish to play with?

When we decide on a subject to paint, there is something about that subject that spoke to us to make us choose it over all other subjects at that moment. What is that something? What was it about your subject that spoke to you? Whatever it was: the shadow play, the colors, the movement, the serenity, the lines, the structure... This should be your top priority. This should be "the thing" you're trying to capture. It is where your passion lies.

No one will feel about "the thing" exactly like you do. What captures you about the subject is what you should be striving to capture in your painting.

Ignore all those voices in your head that are telling you so and so said I should do it like this or so and so would do it this way. When you're trying too hard to focus on someone else's method, you're not following your own unique voice. Yes there are those times of learning/studying which require thought about the teacher's words. But any other time, the only thing you should be following is your own gut feeling. Let that brush go on auto pilot. Focus on "the thing" that inspired you to paint your subject. Exaggerate it even, so your viewers won't miss it. Everything else will fall into place.

When it comes to art the thing is, expressing "the thing" is what it's always been all about.

Is it just Spring?

Jardin d'Amour

Original oil painting  18x24"

by Susan Roux

Perhaps it's spring, but I feel something trying to sprout in my work. It's similar to hitting a wall and coming around the other side with added knowledge or clarity about something. Only there's no wall. I feel myself bubbling almost percolating inside. (and no, it isn't anything intestinal... I knew what you were thinking) It's like an excited child in there, full of energy. I want to paint all the time. It feels like a painting high and it's pouring out from my creative side.

Did you read Keith Bonds article titled Recuerdos de la Alhambra and your art?  It was a wonderful article about needing a balance between fundamentals and passion. It's what I talked about as my New Year's resolution goal.  It all comes down to knowing the rules, yet still applying your own creative voice to it. I'm sure you've all seen art that is correct in defining its forms, yet is void of emotion. It usually leaves you feeling flat. Because the painting has no emotion, it gives you no emotional reaction. One of my students recently told me of a work of art she saw while on vacation. It brought her to tears. She found herself in a public place crying and a bit shocked about it. An embarrassing moment for her, but the ultimate compliment for the artist.

I believe this is what masterpieces are made of. Just the right balance of the two.

My crazy emotional side is rallying for attention! I must have spent too much time focused on my fundamentals and it got a bit jealous. Hopefully all that time spent on them translates into some of my natural instincts now. (I can wish, can't I?) Anyways, I'm not questioning it at the moment. Exploding on canvas these days is too much fun. I just want to ride the wave!

Oh yes, there's been experimenting in the process.

I'm working the brush in ways I've never used it before. Pushing instead of pulling. Push and twirl even! It's as though I'm fearless and trust my heart will pull me out of whatever jam I put myself into.

I'm watching and observing everything that's happening as I try new things. I didn't know you could teach your creative side, but it seems to be what I'm experiencing. It's elating!

Flowers seem to be a good subject to experiment in. They can be so forgiving, bouncy and happy. Not to mention a party of color!

I know everything I'm trying isn't perfect. But after all, isn't it what makes the whole journey worthwhile in the first place? 

I hope you're having fun experimenting too. It is spring you know, so allow something new and exciting to spring out of you! (I haven't used this many exclamation points since I was about thirteen. Can you tell I'm excited? I told you, just like a little kid inside me full of wonderful playful energy! I hope he sticks around for awhile...)

I also want to thank all of you for stopping by and commenting. It means so much to me and I rarely take time to let you know how special you are to me. So thanks for visiting, my friends!

Don Hatfield Workshop 2012

Nature's Dance

Original oil painting  12x36"

by Susan Roux

Basic fundamentals. I can't say enough on the importance of them. I don't care how seasoned an artist you are or if you're just a beginner, those fundamentals are of utmost importance to the representational painter. Sure there's creativity and you may want to simplify things in your own way as part of your creative voice. But without a clear understanding of the fundamentals, your work will remain a hit or miss sort of thing. Some are good and other's ...not so much. 

The artist's journey is lifelong for most of us. In this journey we strive to find our unique voice and hope to see continued growth. We're usually our worse critics, often allowing that terrible voice inside to spook us.  Art is a very revealing thing. It's pouring yourself out on canvas, exposed to the masses. Criticism crushes often giving voice to that inner demon. The best way to arm yourself against it is having clear knowledge of the basic fundamentals.

How good is your foundation? Solid? Shifting? Crumbly? Wouldn't it be great to answer Solid with confidence?

I for one, would like more confidence in that department...

Don Hatfield. It's not uncommon for his name to pop up on this blog. (By now, I think it's even surpassed Luka Bloom! How can that be???) Don is not only my mentor, he has grown to be a very dear friend. The longer I know him, the more he amazes me. As an artist, I've admired his work since I first came upon it in the early '90's. His voice is filled with soft beautiful color and arrangements that let the viewer dream. Serolla and Sargent are among his favorites and it's easy to see signs of their inspiration in his work. Basic fundamentals are strong in all these great artists.

Nowadays, you can sign up for workshops from all sorts of "masters". I can't vouch for their teaching abilities. I can however vouch for Don's. His focus is Basic Fundamentals. Improve on those and your art improves. Plain and simple.

Are you finding yourself stagnating? Could your art use a little more Punch? Definition? Impact? Emotion? Are you having trouble elevating to the next level? 

The answer lies in the fundamentals.

I'm so excited to be hosting Don Hatfield again this year for a series of workshops in early August. Actual dates and specifics will be announced soon. Don will teach 3 separate 3-day workshops: portraiture, still life and figurative in costume. Cost for the 3-day sessions is a reasonable $300. with reductions for multiple workshops. Whether a beginner or a seasoned artists, you would benefit from his teachings. 

Aren't you just itching to come to Maine? August is a lovely month. Think about it. You could begin with a 3-day Hatfield energy boost and continue on to a beautiful coastline town for an extended stay and paint, armed with precious fundamentals and a new-found confidence. 

Does it get any better than that?...!

(Note: I can't get this photo adjusted to look as soft and delicate as the actual painting.)

Squint they say. Squint!

Wildflowers

Original oil painting  14x18"

by Susan Roux

I have to admit, I really can't see. 

I don't mean that I'm blind, though I often refer to myself as the blind artist. Without my glasses the world is a blur. I like to think of it as a good blur. 

Most art teachers will stress the importance of squinting. It eliminates detail and reduces your subject to a series of values. It's a great tool. You can quickly evaluate which darks are the darkest and assess exactly where the light turns to shadow. Sometimes color can be confusing. It can play tricks on your eyes. An object of bright color placed in shadow may appear lighter than another of a dark color in light. A quick squint and the real values come into clear view, instantly. I think it may be one of an artists most important tools. 

I teach to a new group of beginners twice a year through a local Adult Ed program. I've come to realize how useful it is for me to teach this class. It keeps me focused on the fundamental basics. When you take people who've never picked up a brush, perhaps never even drawn before and try to teach them to achieve pleasing results in a total of 16 hours, you find yourself focusing on the bare essentials. My first lesson is all about learning to see. I refer to it as apple night. We paint a single apple three or four times within two hours. I've found the first thing a student needs to know is how to begin looking at things.

Objects of any kind can be broken down as a form. If you learn how to see the basic make up of forms, you can be taught to imitate the values and thus capture form on your canvas. It is the fundamental premise of representational art. 

Squint. Remember to squint!

I began the above painting during my artist retreat at the mansion last month. In one sitting (standing really) I played wet into wet capturing this simple marsh scene. I was unhappy with part of the foreground. Now I wish I had photographed it at that stage to show you, but it didn't occur to me to do so at the time. All I was thinking of was fixing it! The swooping bush of delicate white flowers didn't read as a full bush. It was a problem of overlooking form. The entire form. In this case, the bush. I had focused too much on capturing the tiny delicate flowers and by doing so, overlooked it as an entity. What I needed to paint was the bush itself and then add flowers. 

Today I set this sorry painting on my easel. I removed my glasses. It helped me see beyond the dotted details I had spotted in. Looking at my reference, all I could discern were the values. I picked up my friend, the BIG brush. (It's a number 10 filbert that measures about an inch wide.) Fearlessly, I chopped into my white dotted flowers and began to establish the form of a bush. Immediately it improved. I dropped a few more quick colored strokes, adjusting my values. 

No squinting necessary. 

Without my glasses, I see a lovely blur. A blur that has the same effect as squinting. Not only is it a great painting tool, it's even saving me from developing an abundance of crows feet! How can you beat that? After capturing my form, I put my glass back on to clean up my details. 

I would have to say as a teacher, I forget to remind my students to squint. I've grown so accustomed to not needing to, that I forget to mention it. How about you? Do you remember to squint? Are you an on the glasses, off the glasses type of painter too? How do you go about finding your values?

A Good Exhaustion

Moving to the Rhythm 

(panel 2)

Original oil painting  28x22"

by Susan Roux

You know those moments when you do exactly what you want to do, enjoy doing it and then feel completely drained afterwards? (no... I'm not talking about that!) Well this is how I would describe our weeklong artists retreat. Completely heavenly for lots of reasons only to return home to realize how exhausted you really are.

Prior to leaving, it's common to think of it as a vacation. A whole week with other artists. Nothing to do but paint and talk about art, eat great food, enjoy wine and champagne and sit in front of a crackling fire. What more could an artist want? It does sound like a perfect vacation.

But as it turns out, marathon painting is very draining.

Long hours in front of the easel, focused. I painted for hours at a time. The beautiful mansion we were in seemed to slip away. All that remained was my canvas, palette and reference. I was lost in colors, values and folds. Music played (yes it was Luka Bloom) and all the world faded away as time passed quickly, immersed in my work.

Stimulation was high. Each time I stopped, even for a moment, I looked out the window that illuminated my canvas. The white sunlit deck railing against the beautiful blue ocean reminded me of photos of Greece. I watched the tide come in and out of the cove. Reflections were amazing and countless birds danced and sang. The ocean was their stage and the show went on indefinitely. Each time I stopped painting, it almost caught me by surprise. How could this ever changing beautiful scene disappear when I worked?

But it did.

Interesting art conversations about every aspect of our craft, from first acknowledging you were an artist to marketing, gave a glimpse into each of our creative souls. Details of our journey, our hopes and our dreams. Our frustrations. It was all discussed. Encouraging words lifted spirits.

We continued to paint.

Champagne Thursday was well attended and such a delightful evening. The setting sun created an idyllic light for the art filled mansion. Thank you to everyone who came. The euphoria of the evening fueled us to continue painting for the remaining days.

Now I've returned to reality. All the household chores and stresses of life leap back upon me. The retreat was just that. A retreat from life. I'm exhausted, both mind and body, from the intensity of my focus. But I'm not complaining. It's definitely a Good Exhaustion.

Critique, yes or no?

Lupines in the Sky

Work in progress

10x30" gallery wrap

by Susan Roux

Where do you stand on the subject of critique?

My last post showed a painting before a critique and where I pushed it following a critique. A good critique is priceless, in my opinion. I wish I had one for every painting I paint. I find it elevates my work to new heights. It keeps me pushing, trying to achieve something beyond where I previously stopped. Just last night Mike and I were discussing this and he wished he had to a good photographer friend who could give him a good critique.

Odd thing is, as much as we would like to be continually critiqued, there are many who are opposed to it. It takes a tough skin to listen to your creative work be interpreted by another. We become tied and connected to the things we create.

It's a reflection of ourselves. Who has the right to tell us what's wrong with it?

Rejection in any form is difficult. It can knock the wind right out of you. But I don't think of a good critique as a rejection. Quite the contrary. When someone takes the time to analyze a work they usually already have an attraction to it. The critique isn't designed to crush an artist, but to urge him (her) to think of it in different terms and possibly see it differently as well. We get very close to our work. Especially those of us who work a painting for an extended period of time. So much of ourselves is invested in it.

Though just as love is blind, so often is the artist who has a certain goal in mind. We'll set parameters for ourselves. Things like a limited palette or brushstroke edges. Some soft, some hard, some blurred, some bold and distinct. We can focus so hard on certain aspects of our work, that we'll easily miss other things. Things we already know. They slip from memory temporarily. A good critique allows you to retain what you've captured and helps you push it to an even stronger finish.

Imagine all the paintings you've ever painted. If you could take the best things from them and put it all together in one work of art, wouldn't that be wonderful? This is the critique to me. No one is teaching you how to paint it, only allowing you the insight to add a bit more and turn your work into a wow. It's never about repainting the entire painting (though Don's sent me to do that a few times as well...). It's about taking what you have and adjusting it. It might be defining something or dulling something. Perhaps adding a punch of color or contrast.

There exists a fear of loosing what we've already captured and ruining it. Loosing that look of freshness. Getting it overworked. But returning to a painting for adjustments needn't be done with your largest brushes. Often tweaking with something tiny that can be blended with the existing work will do the trick.

The other factor that comes up in conversation is the qualifications of the one critiquing.

Yes, I'm very fortunate to have Don Hatfield as my mentor and critique-er. (I can make up words, right?) Yes, he is highly qualified. But often the gut instinct of someone not highly qualified can be as helpful. Your kids can be very honest. Painfully so sometimes when they don't get what this part is. Even after you explain it to them and they tell you well it doesn't look like that.

You'd be surprised how many people can give you a good critique. Many of us have the knowledge, it's getting it on canvas that's the challenge!

So where do you stand on critique? Is it a gift or an insult?

Paint a story

Coming Out

Original oil painting 24x18"

by Susan Roux

A blogging-writer friend recently sent me an excerpt from a book she's writing. It's a very rough draft she told me. I have to tell you it was very interesting to experience the work in progress. I've never stopped to think about writers and their creative process, but suddenly I couldn't get it off my mind.

It fascinated me how the idea she created needed to be "hatched" before outlines and chapters could be written. Just reading a short bit opened my eyes to how the many pieces of the process come together. It gave me a glimpse into her idea and made my imagination run wild, almost to the point of making me feel like I wanted to write this story...

But who am I kidding?

The funny thing was, afterwards I couldn't shake it from my mind. As though clear as freshly washed glass, I realized the aspects that make art good are the same aspects needed in all forms of art, be it writing, dancing, singing etc. The comparisons flooded my head...

Words, like brushstrokes, could be colorful or dull and grouped together to suggest a unified idea. Every paragraph, every chapter needs a focal point. Needless brushstrokes or words only get in the way, busying up the composition. Making it hard to follow. The more I thought of these things, the clearer and clearer creating art became to me.

It's not about painting a girl or a fruit or a tree. We learn to do that very early on in our painting lives. The juice of the matter is to capture these elements with passion. The colors, the strokes we use need to be so unified that a single one missing would render it incomplete. Imagine a song with a crucial note missing? Everything must work harmoniously together, supporting one main idea.

More than an idea, really.

A painting must tell a story. It's what pulls the viewer in, lets their imagination run free therefore keeping them engaged.

A book must paint a picture. It's what pulls the reader in, lets their imagination run free therefore keeping them engaged.

It's the same thing. But with a switch. The painter must tell a story and the writer, paint a picture. As painters we are not painting pictures. Why didn't anyone tell me this years ago? We are telling a story with paint. All you writers, you are not writing a story. You are painting a picture with words. Why was this easier to see through a different form of art?

So in conclusion, if you can follow my skewed way of thinking, artist should be grouped with writers. They'll be the ones who'll let us know if we told a story. Conversely, writers should be grouped with painters so we can help them paint a picture. After all we know how to paint a picture. We could be very helpful with that.

Paint a story. A passionate story.

Now that's a challenge. Go find yourselves writers to help you.

Note: Coming Out was painted from a black and white photo. It's the first time I've attempted this and found it to be completely freeing! Colors weren't dictated at all. How would I have painted such a rainbow hat with suggested colors hampering my imagination?

Don Hatfield's Workshop

Hat Dance

Original oil painting 24x18"

by Susan Roux

Everything is in order. The venue is booked, the local Inn has reduced rates for you and Don Hatfield is definitely coming to Maine in July to teach you. He's laid out all the specifics on his blog, so I won't regurgitate here. Just go pay him a visit.

I will tell you that you need to sign up through me. So if you're interested or thinking about it and need an extra nudge, contact me. There are four 3-day slots you could be booked into, so in order to keep it all straight, Don has me in charge of registration. If you are interested in being in the same class as a friend, let me know.

I told you about Don's humorous side and today I want to tell you about his dedication to teaching anyone who is driven to improve. Yes, I said dedication.

We are all aware that college art degrees nowadays fall very short of teaching the real principles of art and painting. It's been common knowledge that if an artist desires to really learn the specifics they must do so through an apprenticeship, mentorship or workshops. The real secrets are handed down from seasoned artists to beginners and intermediates. As time marches on, the greats of today are sensitive to this and want to ensure that the knowledge continues through generations and time.

As I see it, it's our purpose to learn as much as we can in order to pass our knowledge along. Otherwise, art and painting as we know it will be a dying art...

Here's where Don Hatfield comes in. He's interested in teaching you. Really teaching you. I hosted him last July and he taught a workshop to the locals. Since then I've been in weekly communication with him. Phone calls, emails, skype... you name it. Anything and everything I could do to keep him informed on my progress. If you've been following me since then, you know my drive to improve has been very strong. I have Don's support to thank for this. He's continually feeding me bits of information that help me progress forward.

I never knew what it would be like to have a mentor. Now that I have one, I can't possibly tell you how amazing it is. I've been teaching for years and find it so nice to have someone I can bounce my ideas off of and get real valuable input in return. It's like having the best teacher in the world at your disposal. Wow!

When you read his workshop page and he makes mention of staying as much in touch as you desire, he isn't kidding. Aside from the initial workshop fee, he asks nothing of you except to work hard at improving. How can you beat that? It's the deal of the century!

So incase you're sitting on the fence, wondering if you should sign up or not, do so. You won't regret it. Don won't try to mold you into something else. You can still paint your way. What he will do is teach you about relationships and open your mind and eyes to things you most likely miss. He's mastered it and can offer each person what they require for advancement. Many of my beginner students will be taking his workshop, so don't think you aren't advanced enough to take it. He'll help you at any level.

Hat Dance is my latest painting. I didn't refine her as much as the others in this series. For some reason I really liked her initial block in. She looked so fresh and summery. I decided to keep her and work the background to compliment the look. Each one of these evolves. I've been having so much fun. That's not to say I don't get frustrated from time to time, but watching them evolve on canvas, taking on a life, a personality of their own is a wonderful experience. I never know where it's going to take me when I begin...

Don't forget to sign up for Don's workshop. He won't teach you tricks or gimmicks just the real fundamentals that will help you improve. (Plus you'll get to meet me!)

Don Hatfield

Testing the Waters

Original oil painting 16x20"

by Susan Roux

Have you met my friend Don yet? He's unlike anyone else I know. Of course, that could be said about most of us artists. Our uniqueness overflows beyond our canvases...

But let me tell you a little about Don Hatfield.

He may be a bit scary at first. His essence fills a room. His voice carries and the words may be gruff. He'll definitely catch your attention. I don't think it's possible for Don to go unnoticed anywhere. Busy mall, you spot Don. Crowded city street, you spot Don. Golf course, you can hear him from three holes away...

Do you get the picture? Don stops and talks to everyone. I bet he has trouble driving down the street. He must pull over to talk to every pedestrian he passes!

Is it ego? Certainly. Is it humor?

Well you tell me. Anyone who posts this kind photo of themselves over the internet, for all to see, has got to be funny. Hilarious is more the word. If Mr. Hatfield hadn't made it in life as a master artist, he could have been a renowned comedian.

I know you're aware that my sense of humor is askew. I might laugh at things no one else finds humorous, but I can assure you, Don has more than myself nearly rolling on the floor with laughter.

So how did mister comedy himself get to be such a great artist? Some people are just blessed with lots of gifts... One of mine is knowing Don personally. He's made a real positive difference in my art.

Beyond that coarse exterior lies the heart and soul of a gentle man. One could not paint amazing light-filled images such as these with a hardened soul. His understanding of color, values and technique go far beyond most. His paintings captivate us with beauty, softness and joy in timeless settings with alluring compositions.

Nowhere in his work will you see this gruff exterior he tries so hard to portray. It becomes easy to see why such a gentle soul might try to appear tougher to the world. But after just a few minutes of conversation with Don, his facade drops and the real man surfaces.

Aside from being a great artist, Hatfield (as he likes to refer to himself) is proving to be an amazing teacher. Not only can he capture delicate, dainty forms, he can explain how to do it.

Don excites when he finds artists with the desire and commitment to improve. There is nothing he prefers (well maybe golf...) than to share his knowledge about art. He's a man filled with art history and amidst any conversation can drop a list of old masters to refer to for the information you seek.

I'm proud to announce that Don Hatfield is giving you the opportunity to learn and improve. He'll be sharing his gifts by offering a Maine workshop in July. Stay tuned and I'll be posting more information...

Did I mention you should really take this?

Lisa

Lisa

Original oil painting 20x16"

by Susan Roux

I painted yesterday...

It seemed like the perfect thing to do on a rainy Sunday. I don't know what happened for everything to go so well, but to my surprise I finished my second portrait! This is my beautiful sister, Lisa. As I was painting her and she really began to emerge, it energized me so much to have her smiling back at me. I just couldn't seem to put my brush down!

I can't quite explain the excitement I felt. Even this morning as I look at my accomplishment, its hard to believe I created this. Don Hatfield is an amazing teacher. I have him to thank for this. If you ever get a chance to take his workshop, don't hesitate. He's hilarious and so gifted. He'll be tough on you and "slay your darling" (which means he paints over your work annihilating all your detail) while still making you laugh. Actually you laugh more when he does it to someone else next to you... But guaranteed, if you go with an open mind and really try to do as he says, you'll really learn. I'm perfect proof. Its been a month and five days since I took his workshop and look how my art has improved!

Can you see me smiling?

My plan is to paint my sister again in this same pose. Don suggested I do as a way to really learn. Seeing she fell into place so quickly, I'm not tired of working on it. I like that this first version feels painterly. I find her fresh with glowing youthful skin and I managed to capture her spirit.

Yeah. Wow! That's what I keep thinking...

How did I do that???

Call Don. Get classes. Paint paintings you won't believe you can do.

Thanks Don

My husband, Mike

Day-3 of the workshop 20x16"

by Susan Roux

My house feels empty.

Yesterday I drove Don Hatfield and his lovely wife Janey to Wiscasset, Maine where their holiday is continuing. They have been living with us for the past week or so and today, morning coffee is quiet and lonely. Don thought I would be happy to finally get my house back, but as I suspected, its just the opposite...

I met Don blogging. Somehow our interaction turned to an invitation and evolved into him coming to teach a workshop in Maine. What a gift! Stephanie Berry wrote in detail about the workshop. Click her if you're interested in reading all about it. As for myself, I can tell you this will mark a turning point in my art and possibly my career.

Aside from being hysterical, Don is a wealth of knowledge eager to share his talents. He's given me a new perspective and after all these years of painting, a new way of looking at things. How unusual to have your eyes opened anew. My mind is whizzing with so much information. I'm trying to process it and soon put it to the test, painting.

Since very early in my blogging, I've urged you to reach out and meet new people. Here I am today echoing that same message. You never know where it will lead you. Its always an adventure and sometimes a precious gift.

Don you've been a precious gift. Thank you.

Is art dying?

Best in Show

Its no secret to anyone that art is taught completely different nowadays than in the past. What was once structured and guided by rules has completely flipped to pushing creativity in search of the "never-been-done" before. I question myself, "Is art dying?"

Maybe its just me. Maybe I don't get it as much as I think I do. I know art is conceptual and so lends itself to many different interpretations. What captures one viewer may not capture another in the least. But it is my understanding that art is emotion. What pours out of an artist onto canvas (or other support) is their emotional response to their subject. A whole range of emotions can find themselves on canvas. Sadness, anger, happiness, love... To me art happens when the artists can actually convey their emotion to the viewer.

I don't believe art is doing something no one has ever done before.

All that is to me is simply, "something that has never been done before... " If I sit my muddy cat on a clean canvas, I don't call this art. If I grind mud into my canvas and drizzle unset strawberry jello over it and wash it down with organic apple juice, I don't call this art. It may very well be things that have never been done before, but to me, that alone doesn't make it qualify as art.

Maybe its just me...

Posted is a painting that took best in show at an association-run gallery. It is Bacon. It's a print made with bargain bacon on Asian paper. The jurors said, “This very powerful print gets its strength from the color and shape of the composition. The scale of the image, the way it is presented and the placement within the frame all add to a very compelling piece. The work finds success between starkness and complexity that makes it intriguing and fun. The unconventional materials used in producing the work inform the piece with a good mix of metaphor and irony. We applaud the artist for their creativity and exploration.” — Robert Lash & Kerstin Gilg

This is a huge juried show in Maine and the gallery can get as many as 300 entries. It is perhaps the biggest fund raiser the gallery has. A few years back, a wide variety of art could be found there. In recent years, some University professors got involved and the whole flavor of the once totally embracing association changed to exhibiting mostly contemporary art. The three big winners were all created in a sepia tone. Is this the new direction of art? Did I miss the memo? Did I waste my money on my recent order of colored paint?

I didn't enter the juried show. This post is not my anger lashing out because I didn't make the cut. I'm saddened that as time goes by, the college professors are young and they too have never been taught the rules that guide us to great art. The rules that the masters of yesteryear have left behind, passed down from generation to generation. Is art dying?

"A very compelling piece," the jurors said.

To whom? Five marks in a typical counting block is anything but compelling to me.

In todays struggling art market, all too often we hear comments like, "I don't like art. I don't understand it." These are from people who rarely expose themselves to art. They must have never been moved by a piece before. Perhaps the only exposure they get are images of winning pieces posted in local newspapers. They see images like this bacon piece. They are not moved. They continue to think they don't like art. Is it a wonder? I fear a growing negative trend in future potential-art-buyer's minds.

I ask again, "Is art dying?"

Invite an artist

Rose's Colossal Delphiniums

Original oil painting 24x18"

by Susan Roux

I need your help.

As you know, I've been trying to recruit artists to join the blogging world. To some the invitation is casual. "Come check it out. You'd like it." To others, the invitation goes much further. They would truly benefit and are in need of the motivating support-circle we all share.

One in particular.

Her name is Jennifer. She's an artist whose devoted a great deal of time and energy promoting others, with little recognition. She goes out of her way to establish great venues to host exhibitions and invites artists, by the hundreds, to participate. Yet, she stands understated in the shadows. She thrives helping others get exposure in a quiet humble way, never stealing the limelight for herself. Life has been difficult at times. She's battled the difficulties and is a survivor.

Recently, we met for tea. I talked to her about blogging and we both agreed it would be good for her.

Here's where your help comes in...

When life isn't always grand, motivation to start something new is often lacking. My request to you is simple. Here's a pre-written letter to her. Would you please paste it into your mail, fill in the few blanks and send it to this address? It would be wonderful if the art-world finally gave back to her...

gulfislandart@yahoo.com

Imagine her surprise if everyone who reads this, sends it to her? It gives me happy chills, just thinking about it! Thank you in advance. I know I can count on you.

Hi Jennifer,

I'm . I'd like to invite you to start blogging at www.blogspotcom. I understand you're an artist too, so we're bound to have a lot in common. I look forward to getting to know you and share in your creative works of art.

Please come follow my blog: and let me know as soon as you start your own.

I look forward to following yours too!

Sending you smiles,

------------

You're all so great. Thanks for your help!

Rose Cottage

Rose Cottage

Work in progress 18x24"

by Susan Roux

I haven't had much time to paint lately. I seem to be spread out thin, unlike my figure... I didn't intend to paint yesterday, but after coffee and viewing all your lovely artwork, I couldn't resist going to play in front of my easel.

This painting was inspired by several photographs I took of this darling little house. I was so captured by the yard. I remember driving by and then stopping and backing up to photograph it. It was wild and untrimmed. Flowers meandered everywhere. When I began I intended to put more of them in, but the painting lead me in this direction. I let it. I was having so much fun painting it, that I figured another or maybe a series of others could be painted with different flowers portrayed.

Its a very strange thing. The whole time I painted, the colors looks so juicy. It had rich vegetation that lead you to the soft corner of the house. The focal point was clearly the white rose bush. But after I took the painting out of my studio, it seemed to transform totally. How upsetting!

The white rose bush is no longer the focal point. It almost hides! The front darks look dull and the lovely little highlighted dots of color that lead you in are practically invisible. What I thought was a killer painting in my studio turned out to be a real blah.

I know my art photographs terribly. The camera has no clue what to do with all my transparent colors. I think I have the worse art to photograph there is. Not only are colors omitted totally as in everyone else's art, but darks read as lights many times as well, causing strange blotches everywhere! I have works I try to post, but don't. The photos turn the paintings into terrible images that barley resemble the actual art.

But this is not totally the case today. I was so deflated with the transformation my painting took. Was I so wrapped up in the emotion of the work, that I didn't see it properly? Was it the angle I was standing at (slightly to the left) that made the colors look one way? Perhaps my roof windows were casting a completely different light? Do I need to have my eyes checked?

I wish I knew.

Stuck in my head, is the image of what I thought I painted. Believe me, it was very lovely! I was so excited about my day's work. Now I want to try and bring it closer to my imagined vision, but I fear losing the freshness. Isn't painting hard? I really thought it was all falling into place so perfectly. I let the painting direct me. I was so involved with it, in total concentration and responding directly to each stroke I had just applied. Frankly I was in a wonderful happy place at the time. Such a let down to see what I actually did...

An so I label it work in progress, though I'm not certain how to begin to approach it. It was so soft and dreamy, all about the vegetation with a hint of a house in the background.... I may need to do a series just to try and capture what I thought I already had. Has this ever happened to any of you? Its caught me completely by surprise! I don't think I've ever experienced this before...

Its almost like I was seeing things. Honestly, I'm quite baffled by it all.

I hope your day brings about happy painting and the results are what you thought you were looking at. Its quite troubling when its not.

Nora in Naples

Nora Kasten and Susan Roux

Hello, I'm back from Florida! I hope you all had a good week. I'm relaxed, refreshed and ready to paint! Thank you all for the warm wishes for a great vacation. It certainly was.

Nora Kasten was so kind as to invite my family and I to her home. How wonderful it was to visit with a fellow blogger! Posted is a photo of us in her studio. Her work in progress is up on her easel behind us. I'm certain I'm not alone in admiring her lovely, romantic oil paintings. I can't tell you how excited I was to have the opportunity to view them in person. I must tell you, Nora is as lovely as the work that pours out of her.

Her home is a dream gallery! I never expected to arrive at such a splendid place filled with dozens and dozens of her amazing paintings. Room after room she took me to see them all. It was a slow tour as I absolutely had to stop to admire each and every one of them! They are magnificent on the internet, but as you well know, a photo of a painting never does the actual work justice. In life, these jewels sent shivers up my spine. Her use of saturated color coupled with her dreamy brushstroke is energizing and captivating. I couldn't take my eyes off of them!

She treated us to a lovely lunch where I sipped red wine and our "get acquainted" conversation never left art. I've written to you before of my travels and how I meet with artists. I urge you to try it for yourself. It will become the highlight of your holiday! Art connects us. Its a bond that can instantly make you feel like family. You all experience it here through blogs, but it doesn't stop when you meet in person. It escalates!

If you'd like to read about some of my various experiences meeting artists, click these different entries. Don't give up, where I met and painted with artists Mat Grogan and Dave Hayes, John Morris and Owen Rohu.

You may think that you'd be lost for conversation meeting with a stranger, but believe me, in every instance time just flies and conversations flow easily and freely. As Nora and I talked endlessly, she played a DVD of Richard Schmid with the volume off. In one direction I viewed him creating a masterpiece and in every other direction my eye was fed and stimulated by all her exhibited art. Her kind, welcoming and bubbly nature made us feel instantly at home.

The four hours we spent together whizzed by. I didn't want to leave. Nora, I hope I didn't overstay my welcome. You and your husband were a delight. Thank you for making us feel so welcomed.

I must tell you, Nora has painted countless self portraits. They are all wonderful and full of light. One of my favorite paintings hung as a focal point, in a place of grandeur. It is a painting she did of her husband some years back. I absolutely loved what she captured with paint. Men sitting in their suits don't usually hold much appeal for me. But his kindness and her affection for him shown with great visibility through the paint she applied. Nora, I don't know if you've ever posted this masterpiece of yours, but I hope you find it appropriate to share at some point. Its a wonderful work that can be appreciated even if you're not the wife...

Thank you Nora. I hope our journey forward blossoms further than blogging. I truly enjoyed our conversation and hope to continue it.

(Photograph by Michael McAllister)

"On" switch

Work in progress

by Susan Roux

Oh my gosh! I've been granted the Sunshine Award again!!!

Thank you Claire Kayser. I never expected that. I won't go through the whole process of giving it again since I did it less than 2 weeks ago and my choices would be the same...

Here were my choices.

I would also like to direct you to Don Gray's paintings. I missed him last time around...

I've been experimenting with my art lately. Posted is an unfinished scene from Cape Cod. I like the direction its going in, but I must say I struggled with it. I'm not happy with the front grasses and will be returning to fix them. While overworking the area, my colors turned muddy. Better to let it rest at this point...

Funny how some paintings just seem to paint themselves and others... well, they don't.

My plan is to paint again today. There's good energy circling around pushing me it this direction. So much so, it has pulled me away from blogging daily, as I can't seem to leave my studio! I'm not fighting it. I love the feeling and I know all you faithful readers will understand. Sometimes we are not in control of our creativity. It doesn't come with an on off switch!

I hope your non-existing switch is stuck on "on" too! Its great at helping the cabin fever months pass quicker. On that note, February is better than half way through.

You know what comes next?

Who said spring? Here in Maine, its "mud season"!

Cape Magic

Cape Magic

Original oil painting 18x24"

by Susan Roux

Happy Valentines Day everyone!

Not only a day for lovers, but also a day to let those you love know how special they are to you. Its also a day to celebrate and appreciate anything else you love. Like painting!

Isn't it funny how everything always comes back to art?

I never sat to blog yesterday. I got up at four in the morning to paint. It was as though something unleashed or maybe something finally came together, but this romantically soft scene is what poured out of me. I couldn't stop painting. No washes. No dripping color. Direct, alla-prima, raw paint to canvas approach. I had fun.

I'm keeping this brief so you can have more time with whatever, or whoever, you love.

Enjoy your day!

Art revelation

We must talk.

After recent, long discussions with two of my gallery owners, an interesting subject has come up. Its the subject of improvement. The discussions have been about a conflict. An artist improving their skill versus not changing their art to keep a buying clientele.

I find this very disturbing!

Personally my drive has always been to improve upon myself. Upon my art. I think its true for many of you as well. Its a natural thing. An athlete strives to do their best and pushes for more. A musician, a doctor, a scientist, an engineer, every career I can think of, a person benefits from improving their skills. Why is this not true for an artist? How do we come to a place where it is no longer appreciated? Why? Why? Why...

In December one gallery owner talked about a very popular artist in the gallery. This artist painted ladies or children at the beach in a very bright and luminous way. She punched her reds and her yellows glowed. Edges were soft and dreamy, movement was captured and colors were very high-key. Her art was eye catching and her sales were high.

This past summer she arrived with changed art. Still ladies and children at the beach, but minus the huge areas of glow that, to me were sometimes overdone. When he asked why the change, she replied, "I'm evolving. I'm refining my art. I'm becoming a better artist."

Her sales dropped tremendously.

The gallery owner explained to me, in long detail over the phone, how the buying public bought her art because of the unusual glow. He said it was as though there was a light placed behind the canvas. Now her art was dark and even he too didn't like it as much.

Later I went to the gallery. I saw this artist's work. I loved it. In my opinion it had improved tremendously. The glowing was there. I thought the artist had brought new works in to please the owner. These were not dark at all. They were wonderful!

I asked the owner. He said they were the changed art that wasn't selling...

Just yesterday, my conversation turned to this same subject with another gallery owner. He too confirmed it as a fact.

In a struggling economy, where sales are difficult, what does an artist do with this revelation?

I know there's benefit to improving one's art. But does there come a point when it isn't appreciated anymore? Is everyone incapable of seeing improvement, except another artist? Are we the only ones who can appreciate when something was masterfully created?

I'm in shock. I feel confused and crushed. I need to hear your thoughts on this. Please comment.

Posted is a Susan Roux work in progress...

Mishmash

I got excused from jury duty!

The good Lord takes such good care of me. It makes me smile warmly. I took advantage of my good fortune and blocked in a new painting. I'm placing a performer, colored with stage lights, in an outdoor scene. The challenge, other than capturing his resemblance, will be to work the colors into a pleasing yet believable ensemble.

As I blocked it in, how to execute this came easily. I'll work the foreground in bright punched colors, to become a unit with him, and tone down the remainder of the scene. Funny how with just a sketch I couldn't see this simple solution. Yet, as soon as I began adding paint, it flowed so naturally...

I love that about art. You don't always need to see the big picture. An idea for beginning is best and let it lead you somewhere. Surprises are fun. Surprises are exciting. Surprises make you feel alive! Its the bliss of creating.

So far I haven't shown much of my work in progress. If I begin to, you'll get a clearer picture of the chaotic way I work! On other artist's posts, you can follow a painting from start to finish. Mine will be a mishmash. In the beginning it can take me a week or more to return to the same painting.

There will be so much variety it may make your head spin...

Its much like the mind of a creative person. So full of ideas they want to explode out in every direction! Fortunately, when I get passed the "washes" stage, I love to work wet into wet and can complete them individually with full focus.

It can get a bit scary for me at this point. Especially if many reach their final stages at the same time. So much time has already been invested in them. At first, I'm completely free and fearless. In the end, a much slower concentrating state takes over. Though exciting to see a work come to completion, it can become stressful.

I'm trying to find a balance. I need works going in every stage. That way, I'm not confined to only the "completing stage" on all canvases at once. The first time I tried this process, its what happened to me. I try to avoid it now. Begin new works all the time. Its my solution. If it gets too intense finishing, I can ease up with something else in the early stages. Go drip some color for awhile.

Don't you find it interesting that everyone's process is different?

As different as our completed works. No right. No wrong. The creative process can take any shape. It usually comes as a surprise when I announce this to my beginner students. At first we work so controlled. I break it down in easy-to-follow steps. Then in time I tell them anything is correct. Its what feels right for you individually. They forget that on opening day, I told them, "There are as many different ways to paint as there are artists. I'm only showing you one way, not "the" way."

I'll take full advantage of not being confined to the courtroom today and go create!

Hope your day offers you some surprised freed time too...

Delphinium

I sit here this morning, looking at all the beautiful art you post, and I just want to jump up and paint. Unfortunately all that sticks in my head is I've been selected for jury duty! I can't begin tell you how much this is disrupting my life. Today and tomorrow selections will be made and hopefully I'll have a schedule as to when I'm needed. This is stressing me out beyond my capacity.

My objective is to post up-lifting posts and I am failing miserably! Sorry for that.

On the brighter side. I'm adding a new student to my Tuesday night class and my Adult Ed class starts Thursday night. Hopefully I won't be stuck in court and can actually keep my teaching commitments. It will be my sanity through this.

I need to change my thoughts, so I'm posting a picture of delphiniums.

These are from a wonderful gardener's home. Her name incidentally is Rose. She is a friend/acquaintance who I contacted last summer to ask if I could teach a plein air workshop on her property. She had moved since I'd last seen her, so the gardens were a complete surprise to me. I returned several times to paint there. She had the most magnificent delphiniums and I took my friend Sandy Dunn to come paint them with me. I don't know Rose's secret but she had blossoms whose circumference were larger than my head! Sandy could not believe it. We were stuck, mesmerized and completely unsure how to capture this grandeur in our paintings. We never did capture the scale. It would have taken a figure or something recognizable in the painting, but all we wanted to do was paint delphinium! The one's posted here are new baby plants.

I'm certain we'll return to try again this summer!

Nothing like beautiful flowers to put the mind at ease and relieve some stress. Dreams of summer. That will be my thought for the day...

Happy dreaming!