The Relationship Between Music and Painting

What do music and painting have in common? Actually, a lot. Music and painting, though distinct art forms, share a real connection rooted in their ability to evoke emotions, tell stories, and express the depths of human experience. The interplay between these two mediums can result in powerful, inspiring works of art that transcend boundaries and create a holistic sensory experience. One of the most enjoyable art projects I’ve ever undertaken was to paint four large paintings, each painting representing what I SAW in my mind as I listened to the four movements of Beethoven’s fifth symphony. It was a wild experiment for me!

I think the connection works because the way music inspires painting is through its capacity to evoke emotions and moods. Music, with its rhythm, melody, and harmony, can transport listeners to different emotional states. An artist can translate these feelings into visual elements, using color, texture, and composition to mirror the emotions stirred by the music. For example, a piece of classical music with a slow, melancholic melody might inspire a painting with cool, muted tones and fluid, gentle brushstrokes, capturing the essence of sadness or introspection.

Music also has the power to stimulate the imagination and conjure vivid imagery. Listening to a piece of music, an artist may visualize scenes, landscapes, or abstract forms that resonate with the sounds they hear. This synesthetic experience allows artists to create paintings that are a direct response to the music, blending auditory and visual elements into a cohesive artistic expression.

Listening to a piece of music, an artist may visualize scenes, landscapes, or abstract forms

The rhythm and dynamics of music can influence the composition and movement within a painting. Just as music has crescendos, diminuendos, and varying tempos, a painting can incorporate contrasting elements, such as bold, energetic strokes juxtaposed with soft, delicate details. This rhythmic interplay can create a sense of movement and flow within the artwork, making it visually engaging and dynamic.

Also, the themes and narratives within music can inspire artists to explore similar concepts in their paintings. An orchestral piece that tells a story of heroism and adventure might lead an artist to create a dramatic, epic scene filled with tension and excitement. Conversely, a folk song about love and loss might inspire a more intimate, personal painting that delves into the complexities of human relationships.

Music and painting are intertwined in their ability to inspire and enhance each other. The emotions, imagery, rhythm, and narratives found in music provide a rich source of inspiration for painters, enabling them to create visually compelling works that resonate on a deeper, emotional level.

How to Determine Subject Matter for Your Next Painting

“What do I paint?”

Every painting starts with that question and it can be a pesky question! Finding inspiration for your next painting is usually exciting and sometimes a bit overwhelming. Here’s a guide to help you tap into your creativity and come up with fresh ideas.

First of all, I’d say to just start with what moves you. Personal experiences and emotions are gold mines for inspiration. Reflect on recent events, travels, or meaningful conversations. These moments can spark an idea for a painting. Maybe a walk in the park inspires a landscape, or a heartfelt chat with a friend leads to a compelling portrait.

Look around you. Your surroundings are full of potential subjects. Pay attention to colors, textures, and patterns in your environment—whether at home, on the street, or in nature. Sometimes, simply observing the world around you can bring mundane objects to life in a new way.

Immerse yourself in art. Visit galleries, museums, or explore online collections. Seeing other artists’ work can ignite your creativity. Don’t just focus on famous pieces; lesser-known artists often offer fresh perspectives that can be incredibly inspiring.

Experiment with different mediums and techniques. Playing with new tools and methods can lead to unexpected results and help you find your unique voice. This playful approach is key to unlocking new creative avenues.

Keep a sketchbook. It’s a great way to capture quick ideas and experiment with compositions without pressure. Regular sketching keeps your creative muscles active and helps you develop concepts for larger works.

Tune into your emotions. Art is a reflection of your inner world. Let your feelings guide your brush. Whether you’re feeling joyful, melancholic, or contemplative, these emotions can shape the direction of your work.

There’s no single path to inspiration. Stay curious, open-minded, and let your creativity flow. The world is full of ideas waiting to be captured on canvas. So, go ahead and explore—you never know where your next masterpiece will come from.

How do you determine the best size artwork to purchase?

I have found that about half the people who wander into my studio don't seem to be too worried about the size of the artwork they're considering purchasing. They have a general idea of what might look correct and from photos they send me of my painting installed on their wall, they're often spot on when it comes to the size of the artwork. The other half of my clients go home and measure their walls. That may be really helpful to avoid a mistake. I've had people tell me they've cut pieces of cardboard to different sizes and tacked them up to the wall. That's a great idea. The other option is to enlist my help with sizing. In this case, my client sends me a photo of the wall in question along with some basic dimensions, and then I take the photo into Photoshop and insert different sizes of gray rectangles on the wall, so my client can see a variety of proportions and sizes.  Either way, cardboard or Photoshop can help you visualize exactly what a specific size painting would look like on your wall.

So how do you figure out what size is really best for your space? It kind of depends on a few things. First of all, how big is the wall and what other art is already installed on it? You might consider a small piece of art as an accent piece. An accent piece works best when it contains the complementary color of the main color in the room. It can also be much brighter in color than you'd want in a larger piece. Think of a gemstone on a black velvet background. An accent piece can scream at you "LOOK AT ME!" and that works because it's small. 

Or you might need a stand alone piece above a bed or couch. In that case, the size of the bed or couch would determine the optimal size of the painting installed above it. I always recommend choosing artwork that's just a bit smaller than the width of the piece of furniture it's hanging above. If it's too large, it will look ridiculous (see above photo). 

The other (and uh...my favorite) option is to choose a very large "heart stopper" piece of art on a large wall. This sort of artwork should be a real "statement piece". Where the accent piece can shout at the viewer, the statement piece should sing (very loudly). The size and the subject matter should work together to produce an emotional response. I once had a 6' x 8' painting hanging in the back of my studio, and I could always tell when a studio visitor rounded the corner because I'd hear things like "Oh...my...gosh" followed by silence as they just stood there. I love that! That's exactly what I wanted when I painted that piece. 

So what do you want? What do you need when you consider artwork for your home? Whether it's small, medium, large or gigantic...talk to me. We can figure something out that works best with your specific wall and color scheme. 

"How do you Price Your Work?"

I remember when I was a kid, I wanted to be an artist and so, like a lot of would-be artists, I went to art school. They taught us about art history, how to create a dynamic composition, color theory and pretty much everything an artist needs to go out and create a masterpiece. “Pretty much everything” is the key phrase here. The one thing they never mentioned was how to price and sell our artwork. I totally understand that you can’t cover EVERYTHING an artist needs to know in an art school but uh…that little detail seems kind of important.

Over the years, I’ve worked with artists that set their prices based on different criteria. I’ve worked with one artist that set a price of $500,000 on some of his pieces. To him, that’s what it was worth. Then he’d tell people not to be intimidated by the price on the tag, that he’d work with them. He’d follow them out of the studio asking “What do YOU want to pay for it?” I am not making this up. I didn’t see him sell many paintings by the way, which is too bad because I thought he was an excellent artist. He just was never told how to price a painting. His prices were completely subjective.

I don’t price my work that way. I was taught in the beginning of my art career to price by the size; by the square inches of the piece. This way, the only subjective point is at the very beginning — where you start. The first piece I finished for sale in my very first studio in Asheville was at $2.25 per square inch, and I was really excited because my paintings started selling. Then they were selling TOO fast. I couldn’t keep up with it so…I raised the prices to $2.50 per square inch and that slowed sales down just enough. A year later, I had to raise prices to $2.75. I’m now at $3.35 and inching toward $3.50.

The important thing to note is that the ONLY time I arbitrarily set my prices was at the very beginning. But even then, I looked around at what other artists were charging for their work so I had SOME idea of the ballpark to be in. Since then, sales entirely set the price. If sales slow, I keep prices steady, and I’m not above lowering the rate. When, over some months, I see that I’m selling faster than I can paint them, I bump everything up slightly. Understand, I am not bumping prices so I can make more money. I’m bumping prices because a professional artist HAS to have paintings on their wall that are for sale. I pay a premium on studio rent, and if I have empty walls, you might think that’s a good thing because I’m selling my work. But empty walls is ultimately disastrous to an artist’s career. New studio visitors will not consider buying a piece of art that is not there. I HAVE to have a studio full of paintings in order to make a living in this profession. And that means I simply let the rate of sales dictate the price.

Pricing this way is also the easiest way to defend my price to someone who questions why the heck I think this or that piece is worth the number I have on the tag. But really, I DON’T “think” that piece is worth anything in particular. My sales are what set the price on the tag. You can argue with me, but you can’t argue with sales.

So if today, I were to complete a painting that has a price of $500,000, the size would be around 25’ x 42’. Dear reader, if you by chance have a wall that is crying out for a 25’ x 42’ painting (and a 500K budget), please contact me today! Short of that, I will keep painting sizes that I can sell. :)

An Artist in Italy (Part 3)

Alberobello, Italy

I’ve mentioned that one of the things I learned from my time in Italy last September was to look for the most popular places (most likely to be overrun with tourists) and NOT go there. For the most part, that was the rule. But…with every rule, you can make exceptions. We just really tried to make those exceptions with some wisdom. Sometimes, that worked. Like…Alberobello.

“…with every rule, you can make exceptions…”

Alberobello is an amazingly weird little town in Puglia (the heel of the boot of Italy). It’s filled with all these little beehive houses called “Trulli”. And let’s please get it right…when speaking of one of these, it’s “a TRULLO” and when you’re speaking of many, THEY are “TRULLI.” So the town is filled with trulli. They’re everywhere. Many of them have been converted to shops. We stayed in an Airbnb about five kilometers outside of town and IT was a trullo. THEY ARE COOL. The artist in me was so excited seeing these odd, old little stone structures.

“Gosh,” you say, “If I were visiting Puglia, I’d want to see Alberobello!”. Yes, you would and you should. You and thousands of other tourists. Thousands. But like I said previously, this was an exception worth making. I knew this awesome little town was super popular with tourists. So we stayed five kilometers away just outside of another little town called “Locorotondo”. IT was amazing…winding, narrow little streets and all the homes inside the ancient city walls were whitewashed. It was beautiful. AND see, here’s the thing…being so close to Alberobello was awesome for Locorotondo because all the international tourists filled Alberobello and left Locorotondo to Italian tourists (and Joy and I). See how this strategy works???

Locorotondo, Italy

So one thing that I learned in Puglia turned out to be really important to file away in the “never forget this” folder in my brain. Here’s the rule: Never, ever eat a melon without first washing it. I had no idea you were supposed to wash a freaking melon before cutting into it but that’s what happened. It was absolutely wonderful — one of the sweetest melons I’ve ever eaten. And…apparently was covered with salmonella. This kind of wrecked the next day, and the next, and the next. I’d read that usually, symptoms resolve themselves for most people after five days. Well, seven days later I was on the verge of going septic. I don’t ever remember feeling this horrible. Thankfully, I got onto a regimen of Cipro and within about twelve hours, I was feeling mostly normal. We went on to visit Pompeii and then had the last two wonderful days in Rome. I loved Rome. What a charming and beautiful city. But, that two day visit to Rome changed the next couple months of my life. See, after two years of being careful to wear masks in crowded public places (you know where this is going now, right?), and since everyone around us in the trains and buses weren’t wearing masks, all signs were that COVID was a thing of the past. YAY! I was lured into blissful complacency. Two days after arriving back home, both Joy and I tested positive for COVID and folks, it was NOT like a bad cold. Now (two months later), I am finally feeling normal.

“Never, ever eat a melon without first washing it.”

So I can’t wait to go back to Italy. I’ll be avoiding the overly touristy areas, washing melons (washing EVERYTHING I EAT), bringing a mask and eating the most amazing pasta anywhere on earth. Io amo l'Italia!

In my next post, I’ll share three of the paintings I’ve completed now, based on photos I took on this trip. I’m sure there are a lot more painting possibilities amongst my photos but they’re a good start.

"What is it like being an artist these days?"

“Le Canal du Midi”

This week, I was talking to some studio visitors and they wanted to know a bit about my background and how I came up with my technique. I’m used to questions like that, but then they asked about what it’s like being an artist today. And I thought that was a really good question. Pre-COVID (remember those days??) that would have been a relatively easy question to answer. Being an artist is fun! I can (and have) done other jobs. This art thing is not a “job”. This is life. Painting for me is “life-giving”and I absolutely love it. Having a studio in Asheville, North Carolina where I can share my artwork with literally thousands of visitors every year is amazing. What an awesome privilege. How many artists around the country would love the chance to create their art within such an awesome community of artists here in Asheville? Pre-COVID, that would basically have been my answer.

Now, two years into the pandemic and feeling fairly hopeful about all that, my answer honestly is more contemplative and sober. These days, with wars and political discord and cultural polarization, I honestly have gone through weeks feeling really superfluous being an artist. I mean honestly, when the economy is tanking and all the headlines are depressing, it’s really easy to feel like what I do is unimportant and not really “necessary” to anyone but me.

But even during the darkest days of COVID and during this economically “uncertain” time, I make sales. I don’t understand, but I am still making sales and breaking my own records. I am confused and absolutely full of thankfulness. My clients are so, so encouraging and especially during the last couple years, I’ve really received that encouragement with a sense of thankfulness and awe. One 2021 client in Oklahoma said “especially now, I need artwork on my walls that makes me feel what your painting makes me feel. They take me somewhere else. Thank you!”

“I am confused and absolutely full of thankfulness…”

This is so encouraging and really humbling. I am feeling now like I need to take every painting, every creative project really seriously. This work I do isn’t just to create something that looks nice on a wall. What I want to do is to affect people. During times of uncertainty, grief, fear, frustration and anger…if I can, I’d like to create something that brings a sense of peace; something that will inspire imagination and curiosity in the viewer. I want to create something that will “take them away” to a peaceful place if only for a few minutes. If ALL of us did that, this world would be an awesome place to call home.

I can’t change the world for everyone. But if everyone changed the world for one person, that would really be something. I try to do that with the only thing I know how to do well…art. What do you enjoy doing? How could you use that to encourage the life of one person this week? You up for that? If so, I’d love to know any details you’d like to share. I think this planet, these people (broken though we are) are really worth investing in. THAT is why I do art now.

My Christmas Present to Joy

“One Plate, Two Forks” (24” x 24”)

My fingers are cramped, my shoulders may well be permanently hunched and my brain is fried from the most tedious painting I’ve done in a long, LONG time. Do you feel sorry for me? Ahhhh, don’t. I was still having fun because I love painting. But really — this is probably the last photorealistic painting I’ll ever paint, so I pulled out all the stops. And this was my Christmas gift to my wife Joy, so…it had to be the best I had in me.

This painting, “One Plate, Two Forks”, is based on some photos I randomly decided to take on an early summer afternoon several years ago, when Joy and I first moved to Asheville, North Carolina. I had not yet started an art studio so technically my “art career” had not even begun. Joy and I were exploring downtown Asheville and we were both getting tired of walking. We mutually decided we needed coffee and maybe a snack, and so…we walked back to the car and drove up to the Grove Park Inn. This place has a “Vintage National Park Lodge” look to it, with huge stone fireplaces in the cavernous lobby (you seriously could fit a medium sized tree in one of the hearths!). Anyway we made our way out to the terrace restaurant overlooking downtown Asheville and the surrounding Blue Ridge Mountains. It was really a perfect afternoon.

My understanding was that we were going to get coffee and cherry cheesecake (we’d heard it was amazing). Let me clarify that expectation: My understanding was that we would both get our own cheesecake and our own coffee. But then, after we sat down and looked at the menu, Joy announced that just a coffee was fine with her…(long pause)…”I’ll just have a couple bites of your cheesecake if that’s okay”.

If that’s okay.

I’m no idiot. That statement is code for “I’m going to devour half your piece of cheesecake Steve”. After emotionally recovering and readjusting to the new reality, I agreed.

“One plate, two forks, please.”

It’s recently been pointed out to me that she deserved the whole cheesecake. That is an understatement. She deserves ten thousand times ten thousand cheesecakes and more. Do you know the shame and wonder of being fully known and still loved and believed in? I do. Being fully known is not a goal of mine, mostly because when I get to some parts of my life, I want to surrender to the black hole of shame, but that is just another form of narcissism. I’ve learned (and am still learning) that being known and still loved can either lead to shame or profound humility and thankfulness. I have chosen that second path for myself. I wish I were unbroken and that it made sense that I’m loved by Joy, but being broken and being loved still is profoundly life changing. The only response I can think of is to put down the self-absorbed shame and to honestly give my whole self to the one who knows me and loves me. What an amazing thing.

So, you definitely do give up something (sometimes a WHOLE lot) when you share yourself, your grief, your joys, your experiences, your time, and yes, sometimes even your cheesecake with other people.

More Questions and Answers

A few weeks ago, several of my Facebook followers asked questions about me and my art background. Since then, I’ve been slowly making my way through the answers. Here is the final installment (for now) of answers. But…if something I say here sparks another question, just ask. Thanks!

Did you grow up in Asheville? If not, how did you find it and why did you move there?

I did NOT grow up in Asheville. I tell people around here that I grew up in a town just south of Atlanta (look on a map...Los Angeles is latitudinally just south of Atlanta). I grew up on the west coast. After Joy and I married, we moved to Washington State (the most beautiful place we ever lived) and then crossed the country with our dog and four kids for an adventure...to discover the east coast. Over the next few years, we spent time in Virginia, North Carolina and Florida, but we kept coming back to the mountains of North Carolina for vacation. Several years ago, I got a job with a company that allowed me to work from home, so at that point, "home" could be wherever we wanted it to be, and that was Asheville. We the town because it has such a great vibe and because the people here seemed to celebrate everything outdoorsy. I love that. At that point in time though, I had no idea there was a River Arts District. Once I discovered that, wow...that changed everything.

How did you find your studio?

I was first offered (for free) a six foot wall space in the studio of a friend of mine (Phil DeAngelo). He had told me that if I sold something, I could kick in something for the rent, but if not, the space was gratis. Who does that?? Well, Phil did so I took him up on it and never had to skip a month of rent. A couple years later, I was making about half the $$ from art sales as I was with my "real" job, so I cut down to half time at my job. Within the six months, my art income surpassed the normal annual income of my "real" job, so I quit altogether and never once looked back. A couple years later, the studio Phil and I were sharing was just too crowded, so Phil helped me find my current studio in the Pink Dog Creative building. I love this studio. It's HUGE and it's so nice to be able to spread out and really make it mine. So I've been there for the last six years and am about to sign on for another five.

What kinds of other jobs did you have before you became an artist?

I was an industrial designer fresh out of college, then began a job painting backgrounds for Hanna Barbera cartoons (remember Scooby Doo?). That was an awesome job. But then the company had a fallout with the union and because I was the new guy, I was let go. Then I was a sign designer (which was a sort of nice combination of the design background I got in college and the art background I got at Hanna Barbera). It was a lot of fun really. When we moved to Florida, I became a project manager. At this point, may I interject a helpful suggestion to anyone hiring for a project manager position? Do not ever, ever hire an artist. My brain was designed to focus on one thing hard. Project managers (I found out) focus on several things simultaneously. That is impossible. I was the worst project manager. I felt sorry for my employers. They were kind enough to not lay me off, but I did quit after a couple years of job hell. I think they were probably as happy about my decision as I was. At that point, I went back to sign design because it was easy for me. It was at this point I found a national sign company that would let me work from home. Then I discovered Asheville. For the rest of the story, see the answer to my previous question.

That's it for now. Thanks for your questions! And if you ever have any more, please just let me know. That way, I don't have to wrack my brain regarding what I'll blog about! :)

"Mullaghmore": The Story Behind the Painting

“Mullaghmore” (34” x 54”)

A few years ago, Joy and I had the privilege of visiting some dear friends in Ireland. They had moved from the central part of the country to Donegal (on the northern coast). While there, we visited historic villages and castles, forgotten and remote coves, did some amazing hiking on Europes tallest sea cliffs and rented bikes (discovering that riding a bike in the rain can be fun!). This was all in addition to spending some very pleasant hours chatting with our friends.

“I discovered I was just another ignorant American…”

One of the things they wanted to show us were the waves. Not being a surfer, I had no idea Ireland had much in the way of waves. I grew up learning to swim at Malibu and Zuma beaches in southern California, so I thought I had a pretty good standard for measuring what “surf-worthy” waves were. Oh my. I discovered I was just another ignorant American.

The beach we were taken to was called Mullaghmore and aside from the really beautiful setting on the rocky northwest coast of one of my favorite countries in the world, this place had waves. Like MONSTER waves. Like 60’+ waves. I couldn’t believe how powerful the sea was when it decided to seemingly let out all it’s wrath on the rocky coast of Mullaghmore. I also couldn’t believe anyone would want to get out INTO that water (it is really, really cold). The emotions in my head upon seeing the sea that day there included awe and (honestly) fear. These were truly monster waves. So powerful and majestic and raw.

So when Joy and I spent a few days on the coast here in North Carolina a couple weeks ago, I thought of Ireland. Even though the waves at the outer banks were minuscule compared to Mullaghmore, just seeing the power of the sea again made me want to create a painting that encapsulated that power. Asheville isn’t known for it’s waves, being eight hours from the coast, but as I’ve expressed before, sometimes what makes something a good idea worth doing is determined simply by the desire to do it and the fun it creates inside the heart of the creator. This wave, entitled “Mullaghmore” was worth it for me.

Where Does it Take You?

By way of confession, (it’s good for the soul) I admit it’s been way too long since I’ve blogged. This period of time is just really irksome. I’m tired of this virus lurking around. I’m rattled at how divided we’ve become as a country. It just seems like whatever we talk about with our neighbors and/or Facebook “friends” is so often framed in an attack or defense mode. I’ve been coping with the stress by just trying to ignore it all. Writing helps. Painting is my thing though. Anything creative will capture my whole attention and I then don’t think about politics or deadly disease or racist comments from various personalities on the radio. I have found that writing, creating an oil painting or listening to music will carry me to that place of focus and brain-rest. 

One of the things I have remembered during this really weird and stressful time is something my dad taught me when I was a kid and though it had to do with music (he was a musician and piano teacher), it very much affects the way I process all the arts. When I was around twelve years old, I was listening one afternoon to a tape of a collection of classical music (yes, I was a classical music nerd) and he asked me a question that I didn’t know how to answer. “Where does that take you?” I had never thought of that before. He asked me if I knew anything about the piece of music I was listening to and when I said no, he felt it was his God-appointed duty to enlighten me. He explained that the piece was entitled “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Fawn”, by Claude Debussy. He had me rewind the tape to the beginning of the piece, and told me to close my eyes and imagine the scene Debussy was describing with the music, then he turned the tape back on again. 

“Where does it take you?”

I’d never, ever listened to music like that. I usually just listened and decided whether or not I liked the piece simply based on my personal preference. I never thought in terms of “where does it take me”. My imagination was ignited and it was so much more fun than just listening to the piece. It became almost a meditation tool. I saw a fawn by itself int the dark woods, rays of sun stretching through the dark foliage. I saw streams of water, heard the birds, felt the breeze. It was amazing.

That afternoon affected the way I listen to a lot of my favorite music now. I once painted my version of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, listening to it over and over and over again, until I imagined what it “looked” like, not just what it sounded like. Where does it take you? This question changed how I listen to music and how I view artwork. When I look at a painting now (and it could be almost any painting — landscape to abstract), I really want to take the time to just stare at it and allow it to draw me in. And I ask that question: where does it take you? 

If you know anything about the way I paint, you know I purposely design an oil painting to draw people in, to engage the viewer. I don’t want it to just look nice on someone’s wall. Especially in these stressful days, I want every painting to take the viewer somewhere, somewhere nicer than here at the moment.

So take the time. Let the art — music, poetry, painting, whatever — let it take you. Where do you go? Where does it lead? Try it, and if you have a minute, comment right here and let me know. Thanks!!