The Drawing Board

 
After a lot of thought, I've decided to summarize some of the criticism I've heard from artists in my community towards local events in Wisconsin. I've also added some suggestions that I think would make these events better. I do this knowing that I may lose some friends among those who organize these events, but I also do this because I truly believe that if the artists involved don't speak up, things will never improve.

What constitutes a successful Plein Air Competition:

1. Promotion. That is: more than just wishful thinking.
   Of those who hear about the event, only a small percentage will consider attending. Of those who attend, only a small percentage will even consider purchasing a painting or hiring an artist for a commission. For a successful event, you need turnout. Attendees should at the very least outnumber the participating artists -- by a factor of ten. To get this kind of a turnout, you need to get the word out, and in a clever way, across as many media as possible. A website/email campaign is hardly sufficient to get people to attend, especially when there are conflicting events that are better promoted. Postcards are a step in the right direction. Flyers for artists to hand out during the event are also necessary. Newspaper ads are even better. Radio spots and Television appearances are better still. Facebook is a must. This is where a gallery or museum or host sponsor earns its salt.
    
2. A fair chance of success. Success is defined in two ways for artists: Awards and Sales. The Awards have to mean something, be determined by critical judgment from fair, competent jurors. The potential for sales has to be lucrative.
    
3. Networking/Community opportunities. A chance for artists to catch up, share stories, meet collectors and gallery owners, and the public at large. Sometimes this happens at the exhibition. Sometimes, like in the case of Cedarburg, there are events scheduled (artists lunch, evening gatherings, rest stop, post-exhibition party, etc.) that allow for this throughout the event.
    
4. Fair, Sensible, Clearly Defined Rules. If a rule exists, the question should be: Is it necessary? Rules should not be changed just prior to an event. Once the flyer goes out, they should be set in stone. Most rules in a plein air event have to do with deadlines. Having one's panels stamped is a minimal effort to insure that artists don't cheat and turn in a previously painted work, but it really does nothing to prevent cheating. If an artist wanted to, they could have their panel stamped, then glue a finished painting to the surface of that panel. I can understand this with regards to a 2-4 hour long quick paint event, where the panel is time stamped before and after. But for a multi-day event, I just don't see the need for this type of rule. Size limitations are probably a good thing, as the people who run Easton learned. I have some other suggestion, however (see below).
    
5. The venue. A clean, well-lit, secure space that allows for a good deal of traffic. A method of exhibiting the paintings that allows viewers to see the pieces without craning their necks, crouching, fighting glare, or squinting into a poorly lit area. If the venue is hard to find or in a crappy neighborhood, you're likely not going to have much attendance.
    

After reflecting on the past 20 events that I've competed in, I've compiled a list of suggested rules for future events:

1. Minimum Pricing Standards. There are few things more frustrating than wrestling with the issues involved with determining the fair market value of your painting, only to find some amateur next to you on the wall who has their piece for sale at 1/5 the price. In order to insure an atmosphere conducive to the appreciation of artists' work, we recommend that no work be sold for less than $200.
    
2. Juried Entrance into the Main Competition. If you want to compete in the main event, you will need to send in a digital image showcasing three of your best works. These works should demonstrate a standard of both technical skill and taste. If you don't have three best works, might we suggest the beginners division?
    
3. Flat rate gallery commission. I've never understood why a gallery should get a percentage of the sale of work, instead of a set amount. The amount of work the staff does for the artists does not change based on how successful their paintings are, or how hard the artists work. The gallery knows what it needs to make to have a successful event, let's determine that number and divide it by the number of expected sales. Not only will this encourage artists to price their artwork in a consistent manner, but it also encourages artists to make their work affordable so it has a better chance to sell. More importantly, it will encourage the staff to do everything they can to provide an atmosphere conducive to sales.
    
4. Last year's winners are next year's jurors. Stapleton Kearns had it right on this one. If you can't commit to judging the following year, should you win, then you can take your work out of contention for the awards. Honorable mentions will serve as alternates, should a judge drop out. Not only does this keep the same people from winning year after year, but it prevents the same people from judging year after year, both of which can keep new talent from emerging.
    

What will always make for a poor event:

1. Doing an ad-hoc event. Attaching a Plein Air competition to an existing festival simply for the novelty, while making the assumption that people will be there anyway, why promote it? Case in point: Pewaukee Boat Show & Plein Air Competition
    
2. Poor judging. This includes not only biased or poorly considered decisions, but also unqualified judges (such as non artists, or artists who have no Plein Air painting experience), artists who represent a particular medium or sub-genre, and gallery owners and other self-styled experts.
    
3. Unclear purchasing instructions. Silent auctions should be well explained to the viewers. Better still, auctions should not be silent. Good auctioneers create a sense of excitement and anticipation, which often leads to more sales and heated bidding wars.
    
4. Attaching a plein air competition to an art festival. This falls under the assumption that if some art is great, more art must be better. Given the same number of attendees, what actually happens is that the chances of selling anything are cut in half or worse. People who do art fairs for a living resent this, and plein air artists who have to compete with more refined studio work displayed in booths resent this also.
    

A word about judging.

There are several truths about Plein Air painting that makes it unique, separate from all other genres. While it shares similarities with portraiture, figurative painting, still life painting, where the goal is to paint a representative image from direct observation, there are obstacles that are certain in Plein Air painting that may not exist in those other genres:

• The artist is on location. Not just a general location, but a specific place at a specific time of year, time of day, painting a specific subject.
• The light will change. Even during the longest summer days, light conditions will change completely within 1-5 hours (unless you're in Alaska or Sweden or some other far northern location). This mandates that the artist make swift decisions, simplify where possible, and have the discipline to not chase the light.
• The weather is a constant concern. This can affect the light conditions at the least, and place the artist directly into personal hazards at the worst.
• There are constant distractions. From questions from passersby, to insects, unruly animals, traffic, the smell of food from nearby restaurants, and any number of other interruptions, we face issues that no studio painter will confront. The concentration required to overcome these is enormous.
• The artist captures a unique and singular moment in time. The conditions present will never again occur quite the same way. Often, the subject matter itself will change due to weather, traffic, erosion, urban sprawl, fires, construction, and any number of other forces. Several of the places I've painted no longer exist. Buildings have been torn down, roads laid in, trees taken down by storms, etc.

So when evaluating the relative merit between two plein air paintings, in addition to the technical questions regarding composition, drawing, edges, color, value, paint handling, etc., the juror should be asking: "Why did the artist choose THIS location to paint?" "What was the impetus that compelled the painter to commit this scene to paint?" "What insight did the artist bring to this subject matter that is unique?" If the answer to these questions is unclear, then that is an inferior painting, compared to one where these answers are clearly demonstrated. Further, work that has a general subject matter that could have been done anywhere should be the least meritorious, since the artist has not told you anything about that particular place in which they painted.

In competitions, where "paintable areas" are set by the rules of the event, this is the challenge for the painter. Come to a place you've never seen before, and paint something significant that people have never seen before, but look at all the time. Work that achieves this is worthy of more merit than those that do not. The locals will know at a glance if they achieved this, or if they copped out to paint something that is merely recognizable, mundane, obvious, etc., or if they actually capture the character of the place.

These considerations should be first in the judges' minds, as it will make their decisions that much easier. The problem is that judges are more often swayed by other considerations, either looking for a particular "style" or the pressure to pick an artist whose reputation is deserving enough to stave off the majority of criticism.

We can and must do better in Wisconsin if the events here are ever to reach the quality and success of other major events around the country.

Last weekend was the Fox Valley Plein Air painting competition. This is a new event, hosted by both the Jack Richeson corporation in Kimberly, WI, and the Bergstrom-Mahler Museum in Neenah, WI. I want to say outright that I was pretty excited for the opportunity to paint in a new area of the state, and glad of the generosity of Richeson. After visiting the museum a few weeks ago for the Wisconsin Plein Air Painting exhibition, I thought this event would have potential. Unfortunately I was wrong, the trip was largely an expensive disappointment.

I am sure I'm going to step on some toes with this post, so I want to say outright that organizing events like these is an enormous job. The Richeson company is also generally very supportive of artists, especially painters, as their collection will attest. That being said, this was anything but a successful event, and not just because I didn't win an award or sell anything. But more on that later.

The event ran from Thursday thru Saturday, I was buried in work that week, and only managed to get out of Milwaukee after 2 pm. Given that it was a 2 hour drive, I didn't get to Richeson's until close to 4 pm. After getting my panels stamped and driving back to Neenah to check into my hotel, it was already quite late. I decided that I would skip the artists reception to get in a late painting. Sometimes the best light is late in the day.

"The Manor" 10" x 24" oil on panel.

I decided to return to a park I had painted in the last time I was in Neenah, there were some remarkable homes, mansions really, in the area of Riverside Park. I drove around for an hour or so to see what I could find, and decided to use a long rectangular panel for this particular property. I was drawn to the woodwork, and the shape of the spire and the roof line.

After wrapping this up, I found a Chinese restaurant near the hotel and got a lot of food, enough for breakfast the next day. Two beers I brought from home and some TV after cleaning my brushes, then I was out.

"Roley's Boat" 16" x 20" oil on panel.

This next one I did the following morning. I was up before dawn, but didn't manage to get out of the hotel until around 7 am. I drove right to High Cliff State Park, a location I was advised might offer some great vantages. After some confusion on the road (detours!), I was pleased to find that admission was free. I drove around a bit, then settled for a view of some boats in dock at the marina there. It was quite secluded, well oriented to the sun, and rather quiet. There was a boat launch/load area behind me as I painted this piece, and I had a handful of onlookers, but for the most part I got a lot done. This took me about 5 hours. By the time I was done I was quite hungry.

"Horvat Family Carriage House" 11" x 17" oil on panel.

After driving back to the Neenah, I had a sandwich, framed the paintings I had to date, then called my friend Brian, who had invited me to paint at his home. He has a rather old carriage house/garage on his property in Appleton that is gradually falling into the river behind his home. They may well have to demolish that structure soon, given how unstable the hillside has become. I knew this would be a sentimental piece for their family, so I set to work, hoping to wrap up before the light died.

Brian was kind enough to supply me with some green tea, and as I worked, the piece just fell together. I stayed for a bit to catch up, but was by this point dead tired. After saying my good-byes, I drove back to the hotel and found I was too tired to sleep. I hate that.

The following morning was a short day for painting. We had until 3 pm to turn in our work, set up our own easels and hang up to three pieces. We were limited on this day to the Neenah/Menasha - Appleton area. I decided to stay very close to the venue at which we had to turn in our work. I also decided to go small, hoping to get in two paintings in that time. I had two 8" x 10" panels stamped. By 9:30 I was painting.

Riverside park has a small marina, with a couple dozen small sailboats docked at floating buoys. I knew from a previous visit that this part of the water had a very strong current, but when I set up, the air was very still and the weather was hot and muggy. I started working on the first one, a view of the marina. This was the first one I did, "Marina Study, No.1" 8" x 10" oil on panel. As I was painting this one, the sun came out and blew out all the values of what I was painting. I stuck with this one for another 30 minutes or so, then decided to call it. There was more to paint and still time remaining.

For this one I found a piece of shade, under a tree from which to paint. The sun was quite direct by this point. I decided on a view of the dingies resting on shelves at the edge of the marina. I have always found the shapes presented by the sleek forms of the boats and the sharp shadows as they rest one above the other to be interesting. Being by this point warmed up, I approached this one in a strictly Alla Prima manner, laying down each stroke with just the right color, value, and intensity, in just the right spot. I took a lot of time between strokes, mixing color, trying to determine the best way to build the surface of this piece to bring the painting to life. It was largely a study in rendering, I made great use of my Mongoose brushes and a couple of liners. The sunlight was so strong, the shadows were acutely dark, and the foliage made for interesting shadow shapes on the wall behind the racks. If I were to do this one again, I would have spent a bit more time considering the edge quality, trying to build a more specific focal point, that being said, it turned out very close to what I intended at the time. "Marina Study, No.2" 8" x 10" oil on panel.

When I finished, took a walk to see what some of the other artists were working on, then framed my paintings and took them to the museum. I found a spot out front that was close enough to walk them in. I had three easels with me, between my camera tripod and the two display easels I keep at the school. I ended up loaning my main painting easel to Jenny Anderson so she could display one of her pieces off the floor. I set up in a foyer that was well lit by natural light, then caught up with some friends. By this time (2:30 or so) I was quite exhausted and in need of some food and a couple of beers. Some fellow painters and I decided to go to a sports bar that was in downtown Neenah, and ~god almighty~, they were serving 23 oz. frosted mugs of Guinness. Two of those and a grilled chicken sandwich later and I was feeling much refreshed. We headed back to the venue to find that we missed the announcements, which was probably for the best, given how disappointing the judges' decisions were. Then began the long wait for visitors and potential sales.

After a lot of consideration, I've decided that I'm going to be very frank about my opinions of this event. I believe there is a reason why events in Wisconsin are sub-par to events in other communities around the country. I'm sure I'll not make any friends with this post, but the fact is that this event was really a disappointment, and unless the artists involved speak up, it won't get any better. If you feel your sensibilities might be offended, turn back now.

Pages: 1 · 2

What an adventure last weekend was. The temperature was ridiculously hot, high 80's to mid 90's both days, not much cloud cover, just direct punishing sun. Fortunately the Faire offered a good deal of shade.

I arrived a little after 9am and stopped in the office to check in and pick up my artist kit. The organizers furnished us with a black apron which had the logo for the charity and the Faire on it, as well as a map, a pamphlet, and some food vouchers. I met Julia, and some of her staff, who were all very friendly and eager to see what we'd paint. After dropping this off at my truck, I did a walk-thru with my camera to see the grounds. It had been eight years or so since I was last in Bristol, and I couldn't believe how much had changed in that time, they've really added to the grounds. It took awhile to get my bearings. The staff and cast were milling about, preparing for the crowd, which entered at 10am. I was able to scout around and set up before the bulk of the visitors got there.

"Around the Bend" 11" x 14" oil on panel. For the first painting I chose a spot that was looking slightly up hill at a cottage like building that sold wooden swords and bows. It had an interesting arch and was situated at an odd angle to the buildings beyond it. Between this was a square in which was a canopied ride for the kids. In the foreground the trees were casting shadows across the path. I managed to get my panel in shade, but by doing so I ended up in direct sun for the first three hours. Despite drinking a large bottle of water, by the end of this one I probably had mild heatstroke, and took an hour to cool down. I refilled my bottle with ice water, then found some shade and a beer to take in the scenery.

"Dirk and Guido" 11"x14" oil on panel. After some food and more walking around, I ended up painting a view of one of the larger stages. This stage featured an acrobatic team, the Swordsmen show and a geat celtic band that headlined that evening by the name of Tartanic. I managed to set up just as a crowd was dispersing, and by the end of the painting I hand a whole new crowd sitting patiently still as they took in the show. I was still a bit out of it, there were things I think I would have done differently if I was more with it, but Plein Air is all about dealing with the environment. I was thinking about doing another painting, maybe a small 8x10, but I overheard someone saying that the place closed at 7pm, it was already nearly 5. I decided to pack up my kit and take in a show. The band was great, all drums and bagpipes, and an amazing dancer.

I drove back to the studio to shoot the work I did, not terribly satisfied with it, I decided I would make an early day of Sunday, getting there well before the crowd arrived to work on another piece. By the time I got home I was very dehydrated. Pretty much ate, cleaned my brushes and went to bed.

I manged to get to the place a little before 8am, I was up early but not moving quickly. Most people don't realize how physically draining painting can be. Standing still for hours at a time with your arm raised can kill your shoulders and lower back. My calves were sore from the hiking too.

By the time I got to the grounds, I knew what I wanted to paint. I decided that morning to tackle the canopied ride that I saw the day before. The shape was interesting and there was another interesting tent just behind it in the same square. I found just the right spot, and with an hour and a half before the gates opened, I set to work. I had a custom-sized frame in mind, so the panel was an odd size - slightly more square than the format I used the day before. "And the Wheel Turns..." 11 5/8" x 13 5/8" oil on panel. This one turned out pretty well, the brushwork and color was very much what I intended, and after some initial corrections to the drawing, everything pretty much fell into place.

We had until Noon to turn in our finished pieces. From these the organizers would choose two for sale in the auction. These were to be on display from 1-4pm at the Costwold Commons, a building that had a small garden with picnic tables and a cash bar. When I finished the last piece, it was already 11, and I knew it would be tight trying to get another painting in before noon, given that I had to lug all my gear to the truck first to frame the piece, so I stopped at three paintings. Julia chose the first and the third for the auction, but held onto the second piece, thinking that the performers might be interested in it. I'll find out about that in a week or so.

With time to kill, I went on walkabout with my camera, trying to stay cool and enjoy the park. I was quite exhausted at this point. I'm preparing a slide show of the reference photos I took, should have that posted next week sometime.

After running into a handful of friends, I headed back to the exhibition space. This talented young lady was our bartender and minstrel, playing celtic tunes on her violin. Her accent was a little too perfect to be fake, I learned that she was actually from Gallway. I found out later that she was actually in the band Tartanic, but because the stages at this festival were not amplified, she didn't play with the band as she would never have been heard over the drums and pipes.

I sat for an hour or so in the shade, speaking with some of the artists and staff, greeting a few more friends who showed to support the event. Then I decided to run back to my car for a sandwich and a change of shirts before the auction began.

On my way back to the auction, I ran into my old student Paul, who bought me a mead. I wish I had remembered that they sold mead there sooner, it was delicious. After talking for a bit, I sat down to hear the proceedings.

As I arrived at the auction, the "human easels" were parading the paintings about the crowd, trying to drum up interest. I think this part of the event could have been done much better. They then lined up in front of the stage to display the artwork and take center stage as the barker announced the work, title and artist, and the bidding began. There were a total of 16 participating artists who came up with 20 pieces. I think the temperature got to most of us.

As you can tell by these photos, the crowd was pretty sparse. I think the promotion of the event could have been done a lot better. First, I would have passed out handouts and had signs up for all the weekends preceding this event, as visitors walked in the door. Second, I would have had signs up all around the grounds letting people know when and where the event was to take place, as well as more about the charity that would benefit from it. Last, I would have made sure the barker mentioned what the average price was for each artist, so they had a better idea of how valuable the paintings were, and how much the artists discounted their regular prices.

My pieces came and went, and unfortunately no one bid on them. I think most of the bidders were staff members who were featured in the paintings. There were a handful of dedicated bidders who spent a good deal of money on several paintings. I think in the end they raised around $900 for the charity. The proceeds were to go towards purchasing an adaptable bike for a disabled child. Dirk and Guido the Swordsmen actually out bid a lady in a fierce bidding war, then gave her the painting outright after winning it. A class act, those two.

After the auction, I picked up my paintings, packed up and headed home quite exhausted. A fun time, but the heat was very tiring. They did invite me back to participate next year, and that's something I'm looking forward to. It's an interesting experience to see the place come alive, before the crowd of visitors get there, and there's no end of interesting things to paint.

Link: http://www.renfair.com/bristol/index.asp

I just found out that I will be painting at the Bristol Renaissance Faire this weekend. I'll be one of 20 invited artists painting at the event, each turning in two framed paintings for auction on Sunday at 5:30 pm. I hope you can stop by. This will be a great chance to get some amazing artwork from great WI artists for very cheap. A portion of the proceeds will also go to charity.

To learn more about Variety - The Children's Charity of Wisconsin, an organization who provides assistance to children with physical disabilities, read this.

I can't tell you how long I've thought about painting at the Faire. Stoked!

Link: http://www.expressmilwaukee.com/blog-7114-door-county-plein-air-festival-2011-musolff-wins-d.html

After a long night without much sleep, I managed to get up early enough to pack up and turn in my keys and get to the park in time to find a great spot, right across the street from the tent used for registration for the Dockside Quick Paint event. This event gave us ample time to set up and sketch, within a two block radius of the park, but only two hours to actually paint.

I took a protein shake with me for breakfast as I scouted possible locations and greeted some of the other artists who were just arriving to do the same. I spoke for awhile with my friends Larry Schultz and Jason Prigge, then went off to look at some possible vantages for the day's events. I had an hour before I could get my panel stamped, and another two before the event started. We were all looking at the overcast sky and judging the winds to estimate what the light would do between 9-11 am.

Here is the first location at which I set up. In front of me you can see a boat launch for the marina which lies to my left and behind me, the park is on my right. On my immediate left were racks of dingies and small craft, which offered some interesting shapes, but also nothing terribly descriptive of this location, which I thought would be important for judging. I wanted my painting to have something of Fish Creek about it. I decided to try the shop that was across the street from the park. The blue door and the odd shape of the eaves above it caught my eye, and I decided it would be recognizable enough to warrant the risk of rendering architecture in such a short amount of time. The way it was situated among the trees, with the open field and fence behind it would work well in the composition.

After setting up, I got my panel stamped, and was given a token gift bag with some artist goodies. I had a peanut butter sandwich then returned to my setup. I was greeted by my friend Kyle Martin, and another friend of mine from online, Mr. Daniel Corey. I met both of these artists through the Plein Air section of Wet Canvas, an online community for like-minded artists. I was quite surprised to see Dan, who had driven for two days from Maine to participate in the event. Both he and Kyle are exceptional painters, and looking around at some of the others setting up whom I recognized, today would not be an easy win for anyone.

With about 20 minutes to go, some jackass who worked for the marina decided that the infestation of painters was unacceptable, and he began making noise about us having to move. Since I was one of those artists, this was particularly annoying. The event would take all of two hours, yet he insisted that "people had to have access to the dingies" in front of which I had set up, even though most were covered in cobwebs and had clearly not been used in weeks.

So I moved across the street, setting up next to Dan. You can see my vantage here. It seems we were going to go head to head, painting the same subject matter. I was glad for the chance to get to know him, he's a soft spoken person with a subtle sense of humor and a lot of plein air experience. Ambitious too, as he set up perhaps one of the largest paintings done that day. After a few last minute adjustments I was set and ready to go, just waiting for the horn that they sound to begin and end the competition. I decided to go with a vertical format.

At 9am sharp the horn sounded and we all set to work. There were passers-by, some were inquisitive, making the usual assortment of comments, most were respectful of our space and our efforts. I was glad that most opted to talk to Dan and not me (heh). I decided to use my phone to take shots of the painting as I went along, every 10-15 minutes or so. I'll be posting a step-by-step in my next post so you can see how I tackled this painting. Aside from the occasional interruption from passing cars and people launching their boats, the session went well, I came to a finish with a couple of minutes to spare.

Here is the final piece. Malibu Moo's Frozen Griddle 11" x 14" oil on panel, SOLD.

After the second whistle, signifying the end of the competition, we had some unspecified amount of time to bring our finished paintings to the registration tent to have them stamped again, this time with a dated stamp. I'm not sure what this was meant to prevent, but they seemed to think it was important. The logistics of holding the fragile wet surface of an oil painting while someone else stamped the back of your canvas or panel was more than ridiculous. Fortunately I was able to put my panel in my panel carrier, which allowed them to stamp through it. I put the carrier in my truck to prevent disaster, then went back to tear down my kit.

As I was doing this, the featured artists were in the process of setting up their easels at the edge of the tent, along the long side, facing outward. Their paintings were then hung on their easels, in alphabetical order, allowing the public to get a look at what they accomplished in two hours. I believe there were 38 featured artists, including my friend Brian Sindler (who took best in show), Tom Nachreiner, Colin Page, Ben Bauer, Frank Gardner, Shelby Keefe, James Hempel and many others.

After packing up I carefully framed my piece and sat it in the truck out of harm's way, then went to get a hot dog and bottled water. I felt pretty sharp while painting in spite of not having a substantial breakfast, by now I was famished and exhausted from a lack of sleep.

Inside the tent, people were busy setting up lawn chairs, packing in for the Quick Paint Auction. The tent was huge, there were easily 60 people inside, and more outside. At the front of the tent volunteers would bring in paintings five at a time to set up on easels. Cinnamon, one of the organizers, would give a brief introduction for each artist, talking up their accomplishments, then handing over the mic to the auctioneer as a volunteer would walk the painting through the crowd, allowing everyone to get a decent view. This format was incredible to watch, the auctioneer really worked up the energy in the room, and some of the works went for as much as $1900. There were more than a few bidding wars. Once a painting sold, the volunteer took it out the back to a table where it was boxed up and handed to the winning bidder. A lot of money changed hands, and I decided that here at least, appreciation for the arts was alive and well. After an hour of this I was exhausted and decided to take a nap in my truck. We had until 3pm to turn in our paintings at the Penninsula school, then had three hours to kill before the show was opened to the public.

After half an hour, I decided I had slept as much as I was going to, and went in early to be on the safe side. At teh school, they had another smaller tent for us to set up our easels and hang our work. Apparently there were 60 artists in the Dockside Quick Paint, not including the featured artists for the main event. With a few hours to kill, I wasn't sure what to do. I decided to check out Ephraim, and ended up driving much farther north. There were some decent vantages, but there were a disappointing number of great views of the bays and their marinas that were on private property or nowhere near decent parking. After 45 minutes, I turned around and headed back to Fish Creek to get some food.

I settled on a place called the Cookery, which was pricey but worth it. A chicken sandwich, one beer and a slice of cherry pie later, I was feeling a bit refreshed. I read for awhile on a bench at the beach, then headed back to the school in time to get in a long line waiting to get into the show. By the time I got in, the place was already quite packed. I would say there were easily 200 people milling about, between the artists, the volunteers and the viewers. It took about 20 minutes just to get to see my piece and put some cards out, the line progressed slowly. Staff members were standing in the tent ready to help people with purchases which would be picked up at the end of the show. You can see the tent we were in in the back ground here.

I went into the main gallery, where the featured artists had their remaining work displayed. This building had a cupola and skylights along the top. Each face of the building held several rows of artists, with 4-5 paintings from each featured artist hung in a vertical line, under their names. As people would purchase paintings, they were taken down and replaced immediately with one from the back. Apparently featured artists were required to have around 8-10 paintings, which were first offered to patrons who paid for the privilege of a private first-viewing. What remained was sold then throughout the rest of the event. Again, a lot of money changed hands here. I wish the rest of the events in the state were run like this. You can see the entrance to the main gallery in the background.

As I made my way into the main gallery, I was greeted by friends and fellow painters, many of whom complimented my work. After meandering about for awhile, the space was getting entirely too claustrophobic for me, being packed with viewers and artists (interior photos courtesy of the Peninsula School of Art)

After making my way back outside, I joined some friends under a large gazebo, sitting in chairs at glass tables. It was a good way to get out of the sun and just watch the spectactle of this crowd. I had very little interest in small talk at this point, it was already a long day. By around 7:30 they made the announcements about the winner of the Dockside Quick Paint, and unfortunately I was not one of them. The person I did vote for, however, took first place and will be in the main event next year -- Katie Musolff, who did a very sensitive painting of a crosswalk and sidewalk. I didn't find out until after I got to the show that the judging would be done by popular vote, which was a little disappointing. I don't generally trust the eye of the public, as most times it devolves into a popularity contest, or they are swayed by overly sentimental subject matter. Oh well.

I found out shortly after that my painting had sold. That would at least help me recoup the expense of the trip. when I dropped off my work, one of the volunteers said that the owner of the place I painted bought something every year, especially images of her shop. I had a little hope in that regard, and apparently my choice of subject matter paid off. (Thanks again to Bill Frazier for the purchase).

A little after 8pm I grabbed my easel, said my good-byes and hit the road, hoping to get to Green Bay before the light died. Here was the sunset on the ride home. It was a long, weary ride home.

All in all it was a worthwhile trip. One more chance to get my name out there, meet with friends, do some painting, and gain some experience. I'm confident that my best work could have hung in there with the featured artists, without a doubt. I really would have liked to have been out there for the whole week, but there were just too many obligations here, and it would have been too expensive. That's got to change soon.

Well, July has been a decent month, and as a result, I was able to attend the Dockside Quick Paint in Door County. Each year the Penninsula School of Art sponsors an exclusive week-long plein air painting competition, inviting only 40 artists from around the states. Some of the best painters in the US participate in this event, which culminates in a rather successful auction, all to raise funds for the school.

To get invited to this event you have to have firmly established yourself as an award winning painter, and to get invited back, your work has to sell. That being said, the school goes out of its way to promote the event, and the auction-style sale is far more successful than any other event in the state.

As a separate event, the school also offers a Quick Paint event, open to the public. Further, the artist who takes this event is invited to the main event the following year. Needless to say, it's a great opportunity. So here I am.

After a ridiculous number of last minute errands, I managed to get out of Milwaukee around 2pm, landed in Fish Creek around 5. After getting settled in to my hotel room, I managed to find the park in which the event will take place. I set up to get a quick painting in, starting around 6:30 or so, wrapped up in an hour. 8" x 10" oil on panel. The park opens onto a marina, where there are stacks of large luxury boats and sailboats.

I'm planning to do an 11" x 14" painting tomorrow, trying to keep things loose and vibrant. Hoping to show off some brushwork.

Off to bed now, it will be an early, long day.

Link: http://www.valcasey.com/thesis/thesis_effect.html

I was told today, in a rather contrite manner, by a suit-wearing rent-a-cop with a plainly smug expression, that there was no photography in the main exhibit at the Milwaukee Art Museum. Have I mentioned before that I am a devout Libertarian? It would be an understatement to say that I have a problem with authority, especially stupid authority. So, let me share with you some photography:

Last month I decided that to see the Milwaukee Art Museum's China Exhibits which were being discussed on public radio. After doing some research I learned that the Art Museum has free admission on the first Thursday of every month. I thought that would be a great opportunity. It was a mistake.

You see, I had forgotten that free admission at the museums also means that the place will be absolutely infested with gaggles of loud obnoxious kids and their stern faced, harried chaperons.

This of course had the staff on high alert, lest one of these careless youths might actually touch something in the exhibit.

Worse, the kids tours, where highly energetic staff members indoctrinate groups of young children with the typical gate-keeper art history nonsense that museums are known for. I have a problem with that, and other things.

These statues were in the foyer leading to the main exhibit in the Calatrava wing of the museum. I'm really interested in the characterizations. The facial expressions are truly terrific and the detail is amazing.

It's a shame the paint is so faded. I wonder what they looked like when they were newly painted.

As is typical, most of these were under security glass, but some were not. I personally think that is unnecessary if you set up the exhibit the right way. Another thing I have a problem with.

Pages: 1 · 2 · 3 · 4 · 5 · 6

In my last post on this subject, I discussed some of the issues involved in a plein air event, the juried awards, and the significance of winning or losing. I also gave you my criteria for evaluating a painting.

I want to reiterate: I have to believe that good work within a genre will tell.

Putting aside the issue of sales, and focusing on the judging of awards for these events, other issues arise:

• What if the judges are not objective in their evaluation?
• What if the judges do not share my criteria for evaluating a painting?
• What if when the judges looked at my work, it was poorly lit, or inconveniently placed?
• What if there were simply too many paintings to be objective with?
• If the uniqueness of subject matter is an important concern, what if I chose to submit a piece that had as its subject matter, something that was already done by many other artists?

I should also state that certain events offer criteria to judges. Beloit is fond of work that is done in an "Impressionist style," whatever that means. Some events claim that there is a "Plein Air style." (There isn't.) This generally refers to a representational painting done in a painterly manner. I think.

The problem is that the guidance offered to the judges is often ambiguous and non-specific, and often written by people who have absolutely no background in art. This is often not conducive to fair judgment.

So what am I to make of these events? This: If the judges share my criteria for evaluating paintings, and their choices reflect these criteria, then their judgment means everything in the world. If they fail to share my criteria for evaluating paintings, then it means nothing.

The events don't have to be fair to be worth the risk of being a waste of time and effort and money. The fact is that I am participating in these events because they can lead to further opportunities to compete, show and sell. The downside of losing? I have a body of work that can be shown (and sold?) elsewhere, not to mention a world of experience, conversations with friends, insight into new parts of the state, and refining of my technique. I suppose I can live with that.

I'd rather lose and not sell my paintings, more importantly my integrity, than win by the price of it. Besides, I still believe that if my technique and my eye are good enough, I can create a painting that is undeniably superior than those around it.

My, what a long day on the road. I met up with my friend Wendie Thompson to drive up to Neenah, Wisconsin today, to deliver our artwork for the Richeson Plein Air Exhibition at the Bergstrom-Mahler Museum. Making a day of it, we planned to do some scouting for the Plein Air competition that is scheduled for that area at the beginning of August.

After dropping off our artwork, we noticed that Wendie's car had a very flat tire. So, after calling AAA, less than an hour later, we were on our way driving around. We stopped in to see the Richeson Gallery, some amazing artwork there. Scored a few stretched linen supports and some masonite & chipboard panels, as well as a couple of large round bristle brushes from their clearance room. After this we had our lunch and visited a botanical garden in the area. Then we returned to the marina we passed on our way to the museum to get some painting in.

Our northwoods friend Larry Seiler joined us for a couple of hours of painting and conversation. After packing up we decided to get some Chinese food and talked about art. Larry told us about his recent workshop in Alaska. After the long ride home, I managed to shoot the painting above, Neenah-Nodaway Yacht Club 6" x 8" oil on panel.

One's expectation of reality should never interfere with their ability to perceive reality. - Richard Schmid

Before I talk about how the Cedarburg Event wrapped up, what my results were, I want to tell you about a conversation that I had shortly after the event closed, which I am still contemplating, and my criteria for evaluating a painting.

Just prior to attending the artist post-event party thrown by the remarkably generous Shoenenberger home, I was congratulating the awarded artists whom I knew, which inevitably ended up in long conversations about art. The last of these involved my friends Brian and Bonnie, both of whom are more established artists than I, both of whom won awards.

We ended up discussing the judging of the event, and at one point I expressed an opinion that good paintings are good paintings because they rise to a standard that is recognizable. By this I also meant that there is a standard by which to evaluate the value of a painting, or towards which to strive for excellence, regardless of style. I did this while inwardly reasserting to myself that if my paintings were better, they would have been recognized and they would more likely have sold.

I forget the order in which these responses were stated, however, Bonnie said that there is no standard, there was no way to determine standards which could be applied fairly to all paintings. Brian said that it's always a crap-shoot with regards to what the judges liked, collectively or individually. Brian said that jurors are capable of evaluating artwork which may not be done in their style or preference of technique, yet still appreciate the skill required to accomplish it. Bonnie also stated that each juror brings their own unique set of standards by which to judge paintings. She also said (I'm paraphrasing here) that in the end, these events usually culminate in a consensus, regardless of personal style, background, interest or preference, the jurors often come to an agreement on the work most worth merit.

I am trying now to reconcile these statements, which I believe to be in many ways contradictory. This is important to me because I believe that one's actions and statements should be consistent with their philosophy. Follow me through these premises and try to make sense of it:

1. Jurors have unique and varied interests, personal styles, and standards.
2. The unique interests, personal styles and standards of a juror will affect their decisions of whom to award.
3. Jurors are capable of awarding work that may not reflect their personal styles, interest or standards.
4. Jurors often come to a consensus (agreement) on awarding artwork.
5. There is no standard that can be fairly used to evaluate all paintings.
6. There is no way to know what jurors will choose (crapshoot).
7. An artist should not endeavor to paint in a manner that will appease the jurors.
8. Artists should not take the results personally.

I think that's every premise raised. So:

If premise #4 is true, how can #1, #2, #5 or #6 also be true?
If premise #4 is not true, but #1, #2, #5 and #6 are true, how can #8 be true?
If premises #3 and #6 are true, how can you possibly do #7?
If premise #5 is true, then why should any award mean anything?

It would seem to me that these events will either mean everything or they will mean nothing whatsoever. And if they mean nothing whatsoever, why are we doing this?

About a year ago, I came to the following conclusion: I have to believe that good work within a genre (comparing apples to apples), will tell. That there are qualities or characteristics that an artist can display, regardless of personal style and in some ways, regardless of choice of subject matter, that will demonstrate excellence, and lacking these, will not. I have to believe this because if this is not true, then these competitions, the awards and peer acclaim are all meaningless.

Sales may or may not result from an exhibition, with regards to that, there are more outside factors to consider, economics being not the least, but also promotion of the event, format of sale (auction vs. silent bids, etc.), overall pricing, etc. There is also the whim of the uneducated public (that sounds snooty, but I don't mean it that way - fads exist for reasons that have nothing to do with the evolution of our tradition of painting), and the ubiquitous fancy of the art investor, and their expectation on returns.

I want to take a moment to state that art done strictly for oneself is not art, it is either a form of therapy or vanity. Art needs an audience, even if that audience is only one person, in order to have significance. Although personal tastes may vary, I have to believe that a good painting will be recognizable in spite of those tastes. At these events, there are in fact several audiences. There is the public at large, comprised of private owners, prospective buyers, and collectors. There is the personal audience, one's family, one's patrons, those who are following a particular artist or style within this genre. There is the audience of one's peers, and then also of one's seniors within the community (some of whom presumably comprise the jurors for the event). Last would be a specialized audience of gallery owners, agents, and those in an industry which trades in artwork (such as interior design).

An educated audience will apply criteria for evaluating a painting that an uneducated, or poorly educated audience will not. Neither criteria, by the way, is more right than the other, it is what it is. A specialized interest will also have seperate criteria for evaluating a painting. I do believe, however, that if a painting is good enough, there will be a recognition of that fact, regardless of which audience evaluates it, it will rise above these seperate criteria and reassert its excellence.

So, to further clarify what I mean by criteria, here is my criteria for evaluating a painting, a system I owe largely to Ron Bitticks and Richard Schmid:

Evaluating a painting can only ever come down to two issues: What and How.

By What I am referring to one's choice of subject matter, the issues it brings with it in terms of meaning (symbolic, mnemonic, relational, metaphoric, and/or literal), as well as what can be discerned about the artist's intent.

By How I am referring to every other technical decision made in the construction of the painting. In terms of How, we can evaluate a painting in each of these areas:

• Drawing - How sensitively, accurately or convincingly the subject matter is rendered, what has been simplified, omitted, included, etc.
• Value Structure - The arrangement of values, their relationships to the overall composition, use of contrast, etc.
• Color - This includes the choice of colors used, their and relationships to cause contrast, harmony and emotional impact. This also includes the way in which color describes the light.
• Handling - This relates to control of one's Edges, texture, and to any decision made to effect the focal point of the piece by how the edges are rendered relative to the rest of the painting.
• Composition - The decisions as to framing the subject matter within the picture plane and the overall affect this achieves.
• Message Content - This has to do with any layers of meaning brought to the painting, how deftly or successfully this was done. This can be emotional, political, symbolic, cultural, etc.
• Raison d'Etre - What is the evident reason for this painting, and how well is this intention delivered?
• Presentation - This deals most with framing, after the work is finished, as well as marketing.

I also think that what we commonly attribute to "style" - especially within a set genre such as Plein Air painting - is often simply a combination of choices made (or abdicated) in terms of subject matter, paint handling, color choice and decisions about presentation, as well as perception and skill, or shortcomings in perception and skill, pertaining to realizing the idea. The argument that painters will all see things differently, therefore cannot be fairly held to the same standard just doesn't hold water with me. All painters work with the same tools (i.e. - my list above), and can agree on examples of other artists who excel in each of those areas, therefore can be compared to a standard.

Now here is one of the problems with jurying artwork. Jurors can know and debate some of these characteristics, but in the case of a Plein Air event, for example, where they may have your name, the title of the piece, and not much else to go on, (such as an artist statement, a paragraph describing your choice of subject matter, a photograph to compare your work to, or the story behind the painting in question), they can really only speculate vaguely about your intention, and how convincingly the picture you created comes to realizing that intention. Because of this, they often have to give the benefit of the doubt to the artist that any liberties taken with regards to the description of form, or arrangement of elements, or choice of color, were in fact intentional unless enough inconsistencies exist within the image to provide argument to the contrary.

Having gotten that off my chest, I should say that I neither won an award, nor sold anything this weekend. It took me some time to conquer my great disappointment. I spent ten days and not a small amount of money and time doing what I feel is some of my best work to date. I take these things personally.

But the fact is that the work simply wasn't good enough. I know there are some of you out there who would argue with me over this, offering the litany of excuses and platitudes that we all consider (it just wasn't your day, the judges just had different preferences, etc.), but the fact remains that if my work was better, it would have transcended the vagaries of personal prejudice and preference and held their attention. I will simply have to do better next year.

Here is the summary of this year's event, just one way I like to evaluate the success of my endeavors:

• Cost of Panels, Canvas, Gesso: $300
• Oil Paint, Solvent, Medium: $27
• Frames, Refurbishing Supplies: $45
• Brushes: $110
• Time Preparing panels, frames & gear: 30+ hours (prior to event)
• Time Spent Painting: 54 hours (from 6/15-6/25)
• Time spent standing in the rain: 5.5 hours
• Trips to Cedarburg: 11
• Time spent on the road: About 10 hours
• Gasoline: $200
• Meals: $100


• Paintings Attempted: 11
• Paintings Finished: 7
• Awards: None
• Sales: None
• Great Conversations: 9
• Left over panels: 13 (3-6x8, 1-8x8, 1-7x7, 4-8x10, 1-11x14, 2-16x18, 1-9x12)

A worthwhile experience, but hardly profitable. That has to change.

This discussion is continued in Part 2 of this post.

Here is today's painting from the Paint the Festival event in Cedarburg. "The Light was Green" 9" x 12" oil on panel. We had from 8 am until 2 pm to finish and turn in a framed painting. I was fortunate that my Sister and Nephew arrived in time to watch my gear while I turned this in, it would have been a very close finish otherwise.

I am in the process of summarizing the significance of the results of this competition. I'll be discussing it in the next few blog posts. I want to wait until after tomorrow before commenting, I'll know then whether anything sold or not.

Well, another long day in the books. Started early today, left around 7:30 am, was painting by 8:10 am. I wanted to get out early to beat the rain. I had maybe an hour of painting time to myself before I got drenched. But I was onto something, and by this time it didn't even phase me. I had my umbrella over my palette and canvas, and my hood was up with my visor low. Just another day of painting.

Cedar Creek Winery, 8" x 20" oil on panel. This is the piece I was working on, which I started yesterday under similar conditions. There's something about a slightly uncomfortable environment that forces you to make critical decisions. Sort of like meditating under a freezing waterfall. Oddly enough, I couldn't have been happier than this morning, especially when I wrapped up around 10:30 am.

After packing up I got some food and some tea, took a combat nap in my truck while my tea cooled down, then went to wait in the parking lot of the Cultural Center for the time when we could submit our work. An hour before that, I started labeling and wiring the frames, and prepared the paperwork. I also touched up the other submission which was pretty much waiting to go. Here is the final version, after the touch up, framed. Bentz Family Farm House, 16" x 20" oil on panel.

After this, I turned in my pieces. I imagine that organizing volunteers for this is a lot like herding kittens. I was there quite early, so the place was a frantic rush as everyone wanted to turn in their pieces early. Once my stuff was received, I took off, planning to get home and get ready for the memorial service.

I went to the service for Ron Bitticks with my friend Melissa Sandrone. There were a slew of familiar faces there from MIAD, a few I didn't get to talk to. Leslie Fedorchuk came right up and gave me a big hug. It seems my blog piece on Ron was well received. I did have a chance to speak with David Martin, who gave a beautiful story about Ron, and Jim Matson, who I haven't seen in many years. I also offered to donate a portrait of Ron to MIAD or the family. I am hoping they contact me with some images, I think I could really capture his personality, and I can think of no greater way to honor my teacher than to immortalize him in paint.

After this Melissa and I left and proceeded to get quite drunk, sharing stories about Ron and our time at MIAD. As I was writing this I then got a phone call from Paddy Shaw, another one of my classmates from MIAD. All I know is that tomorrow I'm sleeping in.

Saturday the event wraps up and we'll see what kind of a week I've had. Fingers crossed.

Well, after last night I decided I would take a good night's sleep. Got up late, headed out to Cedarburg and started at the place where I painted the tree painting from yesterday. I spent about two hours there, having to pack up for about 15 minutes to avoid the rain. Managed to get further on that piece, as you can see. I will be adding in some more violets tomorrow, I want to push the color harmony a bit. Today was about modeling the trees, adding leaves, and using a little palette knife work to create impasto for a sense of depth. I also added shadows to the forest ground, allowing the light source to become apparent, and to add to the sense of space. I like this one, and may end up submitting it. This evening I opted to put it in a new frame, however, a simple black frame, a little more massive and less distracting than the ornate gold one I had originally.

After returning to downtown I took a walk to see who else was around. It was time to get some food, but I wasn't sure where to eat. I met up with Jason Prigge, who hadn't been painting throughout the event, instead he arrived today to pull an all-nighter. He was planning to do a nocturne and then catch some sleep in his truck before getting up early to continue painting. I'm sure he'll come up with a couple of amazing pieces.

I finally settled on Fiddleheads, a nice cafe/espresso place on Washington Avenue. I then drove around a bit, looking for a decent place to paint. I tried several views of the sky, as we had heap big clouds today, but there was no where quite poetic enough to warrant painting. Finally I headed back downtown, and took in the view at Boy Scout Park, just Northeast of downtown. This park offers a view of Cedar Creek, on the far bank are a series of buildings, at least two of which are restaurants. I took a chance and decided to set up here, under a massive oak tree, hoping to dodge the rain. I was about 50 yards from my truck, so there would be no running back for shelter. I had an umbrella with me, which was good, but it wasn't large enough to cover both me and my gear, which was bad. So I covered my gear and stood put my hood up to wait it out. That ended up being about 15-20 minutes, I got doused, but at least it was warm out. I had a heron to commiserate with, a bird who flew from one side of the creek to the other, trying to decide which side was less miserable in the rain. You can see what it looked like here.

Eventually the rain cleared and the sun even came out for about 10 minutes at a time. I managed to get a good start on this piece. For once the subject ideally suited the panel size I had available. This is 8" x 20" oil on panel. I may turn this in tomorrow, depending on whether I can finish it by noon, and how well it looks when I'm done. Something tells me that this format may stand out in a room full of paintings. Either way, I think it will be a nice piece. I even included the heron. This is where I left off at just before 9pm. That would make it about 5 hours of work.

Tomorrow is the last day of the main event. I'm planning on heading out early to finish this and touch up the other two. Have to wrap up at 1 pm (2:30 pm at the latest) to turn them in, then head out to Ron's Memorial Service in South Milwaukee. Not looking forward to that, not at all.

What a long day. Another late start, I arrived in Cedarburg just in time for the Artist luncheon and workshop by Bonita Budysz, one of the jurors in this year's event. I stayed for the first half hour of the demonstration, but soon had to leave. (How can I be politic about this...) I have found that I have to severely limit the amount of time I spend looking at artwork and artists who possess characteristics that I am rigidly trying to eliminate from my own painting. The workshop started very slowly, a bit more talkative than was necessary, but I chalk that up to nerves. It takes a lot to get in front a group of your peers, and talk to them about your process, while painting. Props to Bonita (please don't jury me harshly).

In looking for a new place to paint, I decided that rather than return to the tight rendering I started two days ago, I would look for a subject matter that would play to my strengths. Something with trees, or a natural landscape. Something that would offer an opportunity to showcase some brushwork. At any rate, I ended up back on Granville Road/County Y, the Western-most boundary for this event, facing West (which was allowed by the rules, I checked). I found an orchard of trees, planted in rows. These were tall trees with olive green leaves and rows upon rows leading back to an emerald green field of long grass. I had to capture this.

Not five minutes after setting up, it began to rain. I almost left altogether to return to my tight rendering of the bar in downtown Cedarburg. Luckily I decided to wait out the drizzle. 15 minutes later I was able to set up again and cement my vision for this painting. Damn glad I stayed, this one has me really exited. "Etude in Green and Cobalt Violet," 11" x 14" oil on panel. The way the cobalt violet plays off the viridian is really amazing.

This is a work in progress. I plan to go back tomorrow to finish painting the foreground trees, developing their dimensionality and texture, to separate them from the background. I wrapped up this piece just in the nick of time, as the next line of storm clouds were rolling in, thunder like giants stomping on the ground in the distance. As I headed back into town, the deluge began, dousing the countryside in rain and fog. The sky was very dark.

I decided to get some food, and met up with painter Brian Sindler at a Chinese restaurant south of downtown. We had a great conversation about art and politics. Afterward, I tried heading back out, but it quickly became apparent that my truck was having a very serious problem with my brakes. Grinding noises when I stopped and a scraping noise when I drove. I decided to call it early and head back to Milwaukee in time to get new pads and rotors before the stores closed. My brother Steve was gracious and patient enough to help me with them. There are still problems with the alignment and some steerage issues, but at least I'm not doing damage when I stop. Another $220 down the drain, and I still need to have the alignment fixed.

Needless to say, it's been a long, long stressful day. The worst part was to find out about Ron Bitticks' passing when I got home. I wish we could have one more discussion about the work that I'm doing now. I will miss his guidance.

Tomorrow I am planning to finish working on the piece above, and go back to the tight rendering of the bar. Maybe one more loose painting as well.

Link: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/jsonline/obituary.aspx?page=lifestory&pid=152146579

Ah, I feel like I've lost another father. Monday, it was a very black day. On this day, my mentor, my teacher, my friend, the man who inspired my passion for the tradition of painting, and taught me the difference between "of" and "about" and the rudiments of critical thinking on visual terms -- Ron Bitticks, passed away.

There will never be another crazy old coot, so patient and willing to hear your thoughts on art, and discuss their implications, so thoughtful in formulating criticism, nor so insightful into finding one's voice, and future generations of artists will be the worse for it. I firmly believe that without Ron, I would have ended my college experience as a angst-ridden ball of frustration and impatience.

I met Ron in my Junior year at MIAD. I was supposed to start studying painting with him my sophomore year, but he was on sabbatical, so we started our sophomore year with Professor Gary Rosine. In my Junior year, Ron had returned to teaching. As an introduction to the course, he spoke at length about painting, and gave us a brief insight into his artwork early in our studies, with a slideshow of some of the encaustic work he had done in the past. He told us matter-of-factly about his tour of duty in Viet Nam, and how some of the experiences he had there influenced his artwork. (Ron is pictured as the one with glasses wearing a white t-shirt.)

Ron was a LRRP (Long Range Recon Patrol), whose job it was to go on long outings in country with his team, to find and kill the enemy. He recounted an experience where he came back to camp, amazingly alive and unhurt, in spite of the gunfights he and his team had found themselves involved in, with a bullet lodged in a live grenade on his belt. He discussed very briefly some of the other experiences he had in Viet Nam, in war, and how that led him to learn about art, in order to cope with these experiences, and the imagery that came of it.

On a one-to-one level, Ron could fix you with a glance and ease his way around your rhetoric, your defenses, your pride and ignorance, injecting respect and humor, and storied anecdotes, to illuminate, the way one opens shades on a dark room, the significance of your accomplishments, and the potential of your proposition. So much of what I know about teaching, building rapport, I owe to that man. I only hope my students can appreciate the fact that I would not be the instructor I am today without that experience. Ron is pictured center of frame in this image, wearing glasses.

One of the stories I remember most often from Ron was that of a painter (I wish I could remember exactly which, I believe it was Matisse or Cezanne, or someone of that order), who, while being interviewed, was asked about his favorite brushes and medium and type of canvas, etc., details about his working method. In response he stated, "It is of no importance, I could just as easily paint with birdshit and a shoestring." The reason of course being that it wasn't the materials, rather it was the thinking that made a painter great. One of Ron's encaustic paintings. At the end of his career, he did these large encaustic paintings, loaded with Japanese imagery.

To give you another impression of the man, you can read his acceptance speech for professor emeritus status from MIAD here.

I regret deeply that as we once discussed, we were not able to teach together, I know I could have learned a great deal more about teaching (particularly about teaching art) in the process. It pained me to see how he had aged when I spoke to him at his retirement party, a year or so after some health issues involving his heart. I knew then, as he was moving away with is new wife, that I was likely never to see him again. I was the only one from our class to show up for this event, which was sad. I would sincerely give just about anything to have another conversation with him, to discuss my current work, teaching, and learn more about his experiences in art. I wish he could have seen the work I've been doing lately, I'm sure he would have been proud of the painter I've become.

I will do my best, as I am sure will the rest of our class, Pat, Brian, Brandon, Katherine, Tammy, John, even Noah, to pass on the experiences that he offered us. MIAD quite simply would not have been worthwhile without his influence.

For those of you who knew him, there will be a memorial service held on Thursday, from 4pm - 7pm. Details can be found here. The Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel also did a write up recently, which can be found .

There are days when I feel like the universe is a physical presence, actively working to prevent me from accomplishing what I need to. Today was such a day. I got a late start today, lots of errands to run this morning. As it was, it rained in Cedarburg for most of the morning, but had cleared by the time I arrived this afternoon. I stopped in to photograph my Quick Paint submission.

Next, I went back to the place I staked out yesterday and continued working on the same 8" x 10" painting. I wanted to have the option of putting in a highly rendered painting, something that showcased my drawing skills. The problem is that some of the details on this building were giving me fits. There are many hells for a plein air painter. Today was the hell of painting striped awnings. Here's a look at the work in progress:

I spent much of the time working on different parts of this piece, as people would rudely park in front of me, obscuring parts of my view. The light changed throughout the day, but given the time of day, my subject matter remained largely unchanged, confirmation of a good decision. I managed to concentrate, despite the onlookers and occasional interruption. Before I knew it it was nearly 7pm. I decided that I was done on this piece for the day, and very hungry. I packed up, determined to come back here tomorrow afternoon to finish this piece, and got some food. Here's a look at the view I had:

When I was done eating, I realized that I wanted to get another painting in, but the light was fading fast. Most of the day had a gray overcast sky and occasional fog. I decided to head out into the country to find a vantage that took advantage of the atmospheric perspective.

By around 7:30 I had found my site, five minutes later I was set up and ready to paint. I ended up wrapping up at 8:50pm, when the light was gone. It's an interesting experience to be painting so late that the passing cars illuminate your canvas. Fortunately we're in the height of the summer, so the ambient light from the overcast sky allowed me to work late. This was a difficult piece, having to desaturate and lighten the values of each section of color as it faded into the mist. Given the late hour, I had very little time to get this right. But I love fog, what it offers to the light.

Tomorrow is the Artist luncheon and painting demonstration. I'm planning to get there around 8:30 to work for three hours on a new piece before this, then head over for some conversation. I'll probably end back at the same place I was today, given that it's supposed to rain all day. Once I'm finished with this tight drawing, I think I'll be doing some more paintings that are fast and loose.

I was planning on taking today off, as I had a number of private lessons scheduled. During my last morning session, my evening private stopped in to tell me that they had to cancel due to it being Father's Day. I got home around 1pm and afer checking the weather projections, decided that it would be best to head out and try a quick 8" x 10" painting in Cedarburg.

I arrived in Cedarburg around 3:30pm, did a quick walk through downtown, and scouted out a few spaces that would work in the rain. Next week it's projected to be raining, Tuesday thru Thursday. I ended up under a large awning in Downtown Cedarburg, painting T.J. Riley's Tavern. I wanted to try my hand at capturing the reflections in the windows, and a striped awning as well as the sidewalk and facade of the building. I was about half way through, with a few brief interruptions when 7:30 rolled around and the sun set behind the buildings, killing the light. Since I was under an awning, there was less ambient light from the atmosphere, and I was pretty much done. Driving home through downtown, I saw a total of only four artists today. I guess the rain scared everyone off. At least now I have something I can work on when it starts to rain. I'll photograph it when I'm finished with it.

I am hoping to get out there pretty early tomorrow, since I have Monday and Wednesday off from the school, I am planning to get in three solid days of painting. I've got four 8" x 10" panels, two 9" x 12" panels, and two 11" x 14" panels left to work on, I want to get through at least half of those by the end of the event, saving one of the 9" x 12" panels for the Paint the Festival event on Saturday. Tuesday is supposed to be the event's picnic and free lunch for the artists, also supposed to be heavy thunderstorms that day. I'm hoping it doesn't get canceled, the camaraderie and feedback are some of the things I most look forward to in these events.

What a turbulent day. On my way to the event, I was nearly in a collision. I got to the event around 9am, did some scouting to find a vantage for the Quick Paint event. I set up on what I thought would be a great spot, right in front of the place where we had to turn our paintings in. This way I could work until the last minute and not have far to walk to turn in my painting. I also felt fairly comfortable leaving my stuff set up outside, which meant I wouldn't have to allow time for take down.

I got my panel stamped then quickly set up (should have done that in the opposite order - 1st mistake), then realized I had left my phone at home (my primary time piece - 2nd mistake). After setting up, the traffic on the major thoroughfare through downtown started picking up, meaning that cars were driving between myself and my subject..., followed by foot traffic, an endless deluge of passersby and onlookers...then I realized that the venue put up a "Closed" sign to keep the general public out, which lead to a series of artists coming up to ask me where they had to register.

Personally, I think it is the height of crass to interrupt a fellow painter during a timed event. I finally had to wave people off when they approached. This however didn't help to keep a fat clumsy kid from kicking my easel as he went past, nearly ruining my piece. After about 40 minutes of painting, I realized that the composition I chose just would not resolve itself well, and I actually wiped everything down to start over. So I managed my submission in about 35 minutes. Add to this the fact that I chose a rather tricky subject matter, the drawing of which was giving me fits, I ended up having to run back inside repeatedly to check the wall clock. With about 20 minutes left, I framed my painting, then put it back up on the easel to touch up. With about 5 minutes left, I went in to turn it in. After waiting for the volunteer to finish a conversation, I was finally checked in. Needless to say, I forgot to shoot a photograph of the painting. I'll do that on Monday, when next I'm there.

After packing up my stuff, I walked with my friend Jim Selle down to the closest open bar and we had a couple of beers and some art conversation. After this I headed back to my truck, ate a quick lunch, then on my way to scout out another vantage in Cedar Creek Park, ran into my friend Brian Sindler. We had a great conversation about painting. I left and went out driving, hoping to find something interesting.

After driving through some new parts of the city, I ended up at the same farmhouse I painted yesterday. I found a new perspective and decided to wipe down the large painting I started the day before and use that panel for this view. It turned out alright. I may go back and touch up on some areas, this photo has some glare in it, but it's pretty close. Not bad for about 3 and a half hours worth of work.

Cedarburg Farmhouse, No.2 - 16" x 20" Oil on panel. After packing up, I drove back into downtown. Met up with a couple of artists painting on the street, then went to the Washington House Pub to join a discussion with Tom Nachreiner and one other juror and some artists, on painting. Glad I did. Cedarburg puts on a class act, each night from 6-7:30 pm, they put out wine, cheese, crackers and fruit for in a local pub, free for the artists. This is a chance for artists to share stories and relax after a day of painting.

Anyway, not only did Mr. Nachreiner remember me, but he remembered a painting he awarded second place to over a year ago in an event in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin. That was a supreme compliment, made my night. Tomorrow is a day off of the event, I have four private lessons to teach including a double private, then I have to start preparing a ground for a commissioned portrait. Can't wait to get back out there. Now that the big one is done, I can start cranking out smaller ones at 8" x 10" and 11" x 14", sizes I'm much more comfortable with. Everything is due on Thursday, next Saturday is the final event - paint the festival.

Managed to get up pretty early today, was out and painting by 8:30 am. I would have liked to have gotten there sooner, as the conditions were right for fog, but it was not to be. I headed straight for a farmhouse I saw the day before, wanting to capture that with East light, I ended up choosing another near by. After setting up I realized suddenly that I was low on white paint. I decided to go tonal with this piece, allowing me to largely replace white with Naples Yellow Light.

Cedarburg Farmhouse, 11" x 14" oil on panel. This is a type of painting that I rarely do, it was quite a challenge to stay within a specific color harmony. I only know one other artist in the event who paints like this, hopefully it will stand out. This piece was also about edges. I wanted to really test my ability to control the edges in the piece, to deliver a clear focal point. The barn was situated oddly on its foundation, and was sagging, as it was very old. There are still a few things that bother me about this piece, but it is the first keeper of the five I've started so far.

There's been a lot of pressure, outside of the competition, all of which has served to distract me while I'm working. Crap I don't need, this event is difficult enough. I'm also still trying to settle down into a groove and get back into doing what I know. Tomorrow is the Quick Paint event. We'll have two and a half hours to turn in a finished, signed and framed painting. I'll need to get there right at 8 am, as it looks like it's going to rain around noon tomorrow. Not sure how long I'll be able to stay after that. I'd really like to make a day of it, since the gas I use to get there costs so much, but there are not too many locations from which to paint in the rain.

After nearly falling asleep behind the wheel on the way home last night, I decided I needed to catch up on some sleep. The past few days have been so busy, getting things done for me, for WIPAPA, teaching, preparing for this event, etc., that I've been averaging 4 hours of sleep or so. So I slept in today, got moving around 9:30 or so. As usual, when I sleep in, I tend to be slow getting things going. I didn't get to Cedarburg until around 1pm today. I immediately drove through the city, rubbernecking, trying to find a decent vantage. The weather was largely perfect, cloudy, variable light, big cumulus clouds, in the mid-70's.

On Washington Avenue, north of downtown Cedarburg, just north of the diner on HWY 60, there are a series of barns that are remarkably dated and rustic, and have interesting buildings. I decided that these would look best with East light, so I kept looking for a decent spot. I ended up back downtown, and parked when I passed my painter friend Bill Suys. Bill does these tight renderings with excellent color and lots of detail. He has the hand of a surgeon. I stopped to chat with him for a few minutes, then walked around downtown to find the best spot. After seeing Bill's piece, I was determined to challenge myself to the task of the downtown scene. There is a lot of recognizable detail in these storefronts and buildings, things that locals will recognize easily. I knew that if I were up to the task I would have to capture the personality of the places in view.

I knew, however, as is always the case, that the first painting in the main event is usually a wash, just something to get me back in the swing of things, build my confidence, and work out the colors, while adapting to the traffic and distractions. So I chose one of the two 8" x 20" panels that I prepared. I knew that I wasn't planning to put these into the main event unless I came up with something very good, so if I screwed up, I wouldn't be short on panels. I tackled a two-point perspective shot of the north part of downtown, on the East side of the road. I didn't finish, as the light changed on me, so I won't have a photo of this until after the event is done. I may go back to finish this later.

While painting, I had several distractions. Along with the usual passers-by and onlookers, I was accosted by two groups of Chinese tourists who nearly bumped me out of the way to see what I was painting. Not a shy group of people there. The first two, a mother and her English speaking daughter asked me questions about the event and why I was painting at that size. The other ones kept positioning themselves to stand in front of me while I was painting to get me in the photo with them...quite annoying. But, since I was nearly certain that if I started shouting, they wouldn't understand me anyway, I let them have their fun and focused on the task at hand.

Later, I was greeted by my painter friend Brian Sindler, whom I met at last year's event. A little after 6pm, my other painter friend Mike Nielson and I had a great conversation, while I packed up. We walked to the Washington Street Pub to have some wine and snacks hosted by the event coordinators (what a great deal). Had a decent conversation with artists Bonnie Paruch and Bill Suys. The one truth about plein air painting is that we are all alone before our easels. It's a lonely bit of business, I'm glad for the company that these events bring.

By the time I got out of there there was less than an hour of sunlight left. So I decided to drive around some more, and am I glad I did. I have several locations planned for a late painting. I'll need to be there around 6:30 pm, set up and mixing colors, on a day when there are clouds. The sunsets are spectacular out there, but they go fast. It's hilly enough to get some amazing atmospheric perspective.

I realized last night that in preparing for this event, while I challenged myself to take on more complex scenes with greater amounts of information, I did not prepare myself for the rigors of back to back marathon days of painting. My shoulder is killing me tonight. Next year, part of my training regime will include some back to back 11 hour days and 3 starts minimum. It's not just about getting faster, more accurate, but about lasting longer.

Tomorrow I'm planning to get up at 5am to get some early painting in. Hoping to get 3 finished pieces in before the light dies.