Behind the Easel


In it For the Long Haul

Published in Wildlife Art

August 15, 2000


Having been an occasional teacher of art in parallel with a career as a painter, one of the most common traits I’ve noticed among beginners is impatience - though that quality is not necessarily an entirely negative one. Impatience is a cousin of enthusiasm, it can be an uncle to persistence and is the parent of focus. (And there was never a more impatient beginner than I).

Many young artists more easily accept the notion that they are in for a lot of hard work than to realize the results may be much slower in coming than they’d hoped. Looking back over my education, those few teachers who were also successful artists let us know an art career was not to be a cake walk.

Our impatience is partially fueled by a society where instant gratification begins at the cradle and often lingers for much too long a time. When our son Rob was only three or four, my father in law bought him a wind-up toy guitar in which one placed some kind of a pre recorded disk and all the kid had to do was strum the strings and out poured a fair imitation of ricky-ticky guitar music. Of course it was just an entertaining toy, but as a new father I worried about when the real instruction might begin. At best, I felt the old ‘learning the ropes’ concept was too often thought to be old fashioned. Couple that with photo projectors, paint-by-the-numbers followed by computer-clip-art and an entire generation of illustration and art has been ‘technisized’. It is quite understandable that terms like ‘fun’ and ‘personal enrichment’ have replaced ‘work in progress’ or ‘perfecting one’s craft’.

That’s really the missing link here! To be a successful artist, one must perfect one’s craft. This can take an awfully long time, but if we can see that learning how to draw a horse in perspective or how to select a limited color scheme can give great satisfaction in the interim, then perhaps we can relax and enjoy the regimin of self improvement towards a reasonable goal. My favorite analogy goes beyond the violinist learning the scope of one instrument - I think of the composer who must be familiar with the particular voice, uses and limitations of each and every instrument in the orchestra, and how all of these must be united in a harmonious, expressive, even entertaining work! Is it any wonder then, that becoming an artist is potentially a lifelong commitment and that learning the craft is both the first step and part of one’s routine for the years to come. Why do dancers go to class for their whole lives and why do painters continue sketch classes and Sunday paintings?

There are exceptions to the rule - artists who seemed to be ‘finished’ the day they left art school - these rare types would make one believe in reincarnation - as if they had come this way before and were starting again where they had left off. But for most of us, the process is much longer.

Art schools don’t always help either, especially those where craft is frowned upon (is it that they can’t teach what they don’t know?) and I know they can give young people unreasonable expectations. Among my teachers, there too many who seemed to have had little if any hands on experience in either an illustrative or gallery artist’s real live studio.

The importance of craft in art is born out when we look at western art. It is no accident that many of the sought-after artists were former illustrators, and their facility had been learned and sharpened, often with a full career before they turned to the western subject. I’m thinking of folks like Howard Terpning, Frank McCarthy and the late Tom Lovell - and their forerunners Frederick Remington and Charles Russell. And in most histories, it is reasonable to expect to work years before one builds up a reputation, establishes a clientele and a number of galleries and exhibits in which to show the art itself.

Too many younger artists are almost totally concerned with ‘how to paint it", but with the experience of some years practice, craft should become less of a constant concern, freeing up the artist to understand and employ their personal expressions. We might sum up my noting that without craft there is probably much less honest expression, and without that personal contribution, there is no art.


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