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, truly sad direction this conversation was going in, I agreed.

“One plate, two forks, please.”

That really describes our whole marriage I think. It’s all about sharing. I hate sharing. But it’s so, so good for me to do. She’s willingly shared really horrible and frightening experiences with me and she’s shared really awesome, adventurous and fun experiences with me. This piece of amazing cheesecake was just a good object lesson. There was our life on a plate…shared.

…that question is code for “I’m going to devour half

your piece of cheesecake Steve”.

You definitely do give up something (sometimes a WHOLE lot) when you share yourself, your grief, your joys, your experiences, your time, your cheesecake with other people. But I have found (I’m donning my philosophers hat right now) that you really do gain more than you loose if you share from a willing heart. And it’s different than just passively letting someone TAKE something from you. That’s not sharing, though I have sometimes confused it for sharing. It feels like that’s an expression of weakness, and can lead to resentment of the one who “took”. I think sharing something assumes you're willing to sacrifice for the sake of another because you love them. That, I think, is an expression of strength, not weakness. Love costs something.

So as a matter of fact, “Yes. You may even have half my beloved cheesecake. Let me just draw a line down the middle so it’s fair…”

How a Dinky Little Virus Changed my Art Business

Each day I go to my studio now, inevitably someone will profusely thank me for being open, and then asks how I’m doing as an artist in this crazy pandemic.

Well, things have changed. Last year was an amazing year as far as art sales go. Incredible. And then…we hit March of this year and everything completely changed. Those last few days before we HAD to lock up the studio in Asheville was just spooky. Though mid-March usually brings tourists back into town, no one at all was on the streets. It was like a scene from The Walking Dead. But if you’re reading this, you already know that because it was the same all over the country. Mid-March began a period of time that was really scary for so many reasons. Questions like “will I get this disease?”, and “will I make it financially through this thing?” were on everyone’s mind (including this artist).

COMMISSIONS

During those first weeks, I was really thankful I still had painting commissions I was working on from the end of 2019. But then in early April, a few more commissions came in. I was amazed. “Now??” I asked myself. “Who would buy art NOW?” But one client at that time explained “the world is so scary and horrible right now. I need something that will give me joy and peace and that’s why I have to commission a piece of artwork from you.” I was honored and really thankful for that kind of response to this situation. Even now, there has not (so far) been a day of 2020 when I was not working on a commission. In fact, I’m just finishing up the largest commission I’ve ever received. I honestly don’t understand this at all, but I’m not complaining.

NEWSLETTERS

Because of what that client said, I realized I maybe had something I could do to help people during the lockdown (at least a little). I began to send out a newsletter weekly to all my client list (nearly 2000 people). I usually send it out to show new work and talk about upcoming events at the studio (if you’re interested in being on the mailing list, just email me at stclaireart@gmail.com). But this time, I sent out a single photo once a week of one of my paintings and the story behind that painting. And immediately, I got really positive responses. I just wanted to give people at least a few minute escape from reality, and right then, that seemed like something real I could be giving.

MINI MASTERPIECES

During that time, I also began working on tiny (8” x 10”) versions of some of my favorite pieces I’ve done over the last several years and then offering them for sales on Facebook and Instagram. The sales of my “mini’s” really helped support us well through spring, and I have a whole bunch ready for holiday sales. Again, these sales surprised me. I have NEVER sold directly on-line. Because my paintings are reflective and have depth to them (and you can’t capture that in a photo), I have never bothered trying to sell my work on-line. But these were an exception and I am really grateful for the Artist Support Pledge that started this whole idea of artists offering tiny paintings in 2020. That really helped a lot of artists make it through the scariest time of the lock downs.

STUDIO SPACE

One unexpected thing about the studio having to be closed down for a couple months was that I found I really liked working from home. I have a yard surrounded by huge maple, oak and hickory trees. To be able to just wear grubby clothes and set up my work station right there in my front yard, crank up my music or podcast and create my artwork there was uh…really nice. So Joy and I decided to move most of our behind the scenes production work home, which cleared out the back part of my studio. We cleaned and painted the walls and floor, opened up the back doorway to about 12’ and I found another artist to join me in the space. His name is Onicas Gaddis and he has been a joy to have around. He is also a painter but works in acrylic and does large expressionistic-style pieces. Really cool stuff (you should check his website out at onicasart.com). Having another artist there not only helps us out on rent, it means we can be open seven days a week, but Joy and I still get our two days / week off. Thank you Onicas! So when you next visit, you may well be greeted by a smiling face (smiling behind the mask) of my new studio mate. Make sure you say hi!

TO SUM IT UP

I am really lucky, blessed, fortunate (however you want to look at it). And I cannot help but be hopeful about the future and thankful I’m making it through this period of time (so far, so good anyway). So my business model has changed, and this years sales sure aren’t what they were last year, but thank God (and I do multiple times every day) and thanks to all my amazing clients, I’m making it and actually enjoying parts of this whole experience. Don’t get me wrong…I’m longing for 2021 and I’m longing to be able to travel again! I’m longing to ditch my mask and start hugging people again. But right now, in this weird and sometimes scary lull, I feel quiet inside. I am so thankful.

That’s enough. I have a commission I need to get back to now…

Story Behind the Painting: "Sundown over the Blue Ridge"

Last summer, my wife Joy and I hiked to the top of Max Patch, a barren mountaintop right at the crest of the Appalachian mountains. It’s about an hours drive from our house in Asheville but we LOVE going here with a picnic dinner to watch the sunset. You can see for nearly a hundred miles from the summit of Max Patch. It’s amazing. 

So last summer, we spread the picnic blanket, lit the candle (great way to class up a mountaintop date), pulled out the rotisserie chicken, potato salad, three bean salad and a bottle of wine. And Pims (Per Joy, you have to have Pims for desert when on one of these mountaintop dates).  

It was a perfect evening. It was a hot, sweaty day down in Asheville, but up here, Joy had a sweater on. Picture a nearly cloudless afternoon, watching the sun set over the horizon. With every moment, the sunlight grew more and more golden, then orange and then just hovered on the horizon and then…show’s over. We sat there and chatted, enjoying the cool breeze until it was starting to get dark. 

Picture a nearly cloudless afternoon,

watching the sun set over the horizon…

A couple weeks later, I was at the studio painting and a guest came in asking for a commission. They’d found a photo from (wait for it….) Max Patch and wanted me to paint it for them, which I very happily did. This was one I wish I could have kept, because it wasn’t just a nice painting (in my opinion), but it recalled a memory. I’m always telling people interested in a commission to look through their photos from their favorite vacations. I can paint them! And that memory infused that artwork with power. Crazy huh? If my artwork can have the power to call someone in this (at present) crazy world back to a place of joy and peace, that’s almost spiritual. I love that! 

Anyway, for me personally, that’s the power this particular painting has for me.

Q&A: SESSION ONE

If you've read my blog at all, you know that many of the posts address some (sometimes weird) question I'm asked at my studio. Since these days, my studio is closed to the public, I put the word out that I need your input. 

I'm opening the door to any and all questions. This may be good fodder for many blog posts! So think about it...if there's anything you want to know about me, my art, my art background, living in Asheville, ANYTHING.

Questions and Answers:

Question 1: Do you have a favorite painting that you could never part with?

Ooooo. Good question, but easy to answer. No, sort of. The whole reason I paint is to sell what I create and thereby support myself that way. I.e. I don’t have a “real” job. This IS my real job, so I need to pay close attention to which paintings and themes are getting the most interest in my studio and let that interest guide me as I dream up new ideas and themes.

That said, there are two paintings I’ve done that I will be heartbroken when they sell. One is my largest piece so far (a 6’ x 8’ waterfall that took 13 months to complete) and the other is a bridge at Giverny (Claude Monet’s home and garden). I’d kind of rather neither of them sold, but…Joy will hit me if I don’t have a price tag on them so…they’re for sale as “premium” pieces (meaning I’ll never discount them).

“Cullasaja Falls” (72” x 96”)

“Le rêve d'été de Giverny” (36” x 48”)

Question 2: Do you make your own canvases? Like the one in the picture, you would not normally find that on the shelf at Hobby Lobby.

I have a friend of mine make the panels for me. Because the weight of the materials I use to create my artwork (modeling compound and resin) will bow the canvas in the center, the canvas has to be backed with a then sheet of plywood. So, every panel is custom created, which means the size and proportions are not limited by what is “in stock” at the art store. I can get whatever size I order. That’s awesome.

Question 3: Have either you or Joy ever tossed away a half - finished work, completely disgusted and convinced that it is not going to turn out right, and then wished that you'd kept at it and finished it?

Not exactly. There are some pieces both Joy and I have gotten to about half-completed and realized it was not going to be improved with any amount of artistic cajoling, so we then rip the canvas off the panel, re-stretch the canvas and begin all over again. I’ve never, ever been sorry I’ve done that, because the second time I approach that theme (the re-do) is always so much better. I’ve even completely finished a piece, hung it on the wall for a few days and realize I hate looking at it. It doesn’t happen often, but I rip the painting off the backer panel and start over in that case as well. I want absolutely everything hanging on my studio walls to represent the very best I can create. If I know that’s not the case, I’ll start all over again.

That’s all for this entry…more questions and answers to come. If you have a question for me — personal, creative, technique, anything…just ask. I’ll answer every question I get. :)

An Impractical Idea

Soon to be “The Bridge” (36” x 48”)

As I was sitting in my studio as the new year was just beginning, I was mulling over the past year and thinking in terms of “what do I want to do different in 2020?” Most of the time, I’m blissfully content just doing what I’m used to doing, but that can be dangerous as an artist. Look at some of the big name artists in recent history and you’ll see what I mean. Someone starts painting a charming little cabin in the woods with a beautiful sunset behind it and warm lights shining in the windows. Nice. But then that person (not mentioning names here) becomes super famous for his cabins and soon, that’s all he paints. Sounds financially lucrative (just painting the same thing over and over again is easy) but it sounds really boring. Boring is not why I’m an artist. It’s not my ultimate goal in life.

“…I have to pay close attention to people’s comments and purchases…”

As a full-time artist in (I think) the most awesome community of artists anywhere in the world (there are over 220 artists in Asheville’s River Arts District), I am very aware of what people are drawn to as far as my paintings go. I come up with what I think is a great idea and if it sells, it WAS a great idea. Sometimes they don’t sell, so I strip off the canvas and start all over again. That doesn’t happen often but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t happen sometimes. But because when I finish a painting and hang it on the wall, I’m right there working as people come in and visit my studio (and view my artwork). I can hear their reaction to my artwork and that’s super helpful in figuring out what people are drawn to. Because I’m financially dependent on SELLING my artwork, I have to pay close attention to people’s comments and purchases, and for the most part, that dictates what I paint in the future. Some might call me a sell-out but that’s not the case. I love painting and I don’t really care what it is I’m painting. If I’m painting, I’m having fun. But for the most part, I try to be attentive to what people will actually purchase, and my prices are guided by the quantity of work I sell (supply and demand).

But every now and then, I make an exception to this rule. On New Years day as I was sitting in my studio mulling over life, a voice in my head seemed to whisper “make more exceptions to your rule this year”. Well, who am I to silence that little voice? So the afternoon of January 1, I prepped my canvas and pulled out one of my favorite photos I took in France. The photo is of what is probably the most famous Japanese bridge in the world: Monet’s bridge in his lily pond in Giverny (just northwest of Paris). I have spent more time applying the texture than I ever take. But for these “exception” paintings, time will not matter. This piece (pictured here) is now ready for the Italian aluminum leaf to be applied, followed by countless layers of oil paint.

This is not a “practical” idea, and I love that. This year, my goal is to complete at least three “impractical” pieces. How’s that for a New Year’s resolution? Watch out 2020!

"What's Your Best Price on This Piece?"

Most of the time, when people visit Asheville and come into my studio to browse the artwork, they either like it or they don’t. If they don’t like it, they leave. If they like it and if the price fits their budget, they make a purchase. Of that group of interested people though, are people who like to play the “what’s your best price?” game. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE that game. I love talking someone down in price. It’s part of the fun of going to a garage sale. But…other than buying a house or a car, people don’t EVER try to bargain their way to a lower price with what they buy. I mean, imagine you’re at Walmart or Kohl’s or Home Depot and EverGreen Garden Center and you go up to the cashier, they inform you your total is $60.54. Is your response, “Okay, would you take $40?”

“The way I was taught to price my artwork makes the most sense…”

But there are people who buy artwork that way. I even had a gentleman visiting my Asheville art studio a couple years ago and he was looking at a painting and hollered across the room “well, you don’t seem to want to sell THIS one very much!” That was his way of asking if I’d come down in the price.

The way I was taught to price my artwork makes the most sense, and I wish everyone understood that I never price anything on a whim….”Oh, this one is awesome…I’ll price that high. This one…this is just okay, so I’ll price that lower.” If something is just “okay” I don’t put it on my wall. I remove the canvas from the frame and start all over. What ends up on my wall represents the best I can produce. I think everyone visiting my studio in the River Arts District deserves that. The only thing that determines my price is the rate of my sales. This year, I’m charging $3/square inch for my work. When I started selling my art, I was at $2.50/square inch. That was fine for a while, but when my artwork was selling faster than I could replace it on the wall, I bumped the price to $2.65. Then a year later, I had to bump it again, and then again. My goal is to paint as fast as I sell them.

All that said, if someone purchases something really large, or wants multiple pieces, of course I’ll give them a break on the pricing. THAT is the only point things get subjective as far as pricing goes. But I want to say “thank you” for someone willing to invest that much in me and my craft, and the most logical way to do that is by giving that type of a client a price break.

Aside from that though, I never, ever set prices based on what I “think” it’s worth. Based on my sales, I know what it will sell for and that’s the price I write on the tag. This is really important for my clients as well. They need to know that the value of the art they purchase is based on something more than what I “felt” like pricing it at. And so far, almost every year since I’ve started painting, the value (as set by purchases) is raising.

So setting prices is really a very simple and straightforward thing. If paintings sell too slow, you lower prices. If artwork sells too fast, you raise the price just a bit to slow sales down to a comfortable level. That’s how I was trained anyway, and it makes the most sense to me. If you have any questions or comments though, I’m really open to hearing.

One of my All-Time Heroes

When we were living in Orlando, Florida, we discovered a museum in Winter Park that turned out to be a complete surprise to me. The Morse Museum houses the largest single collection of Tiffany stained glass anywhere in the world. To be honest, I had no real interest in stained glass at the time, and to me, I associated the name “Tiffany” with expensive jewelry. But from the moment I entered this museum, I was completely blown away by the unbelievable beauty of the glass. This was pure art and I was completely unprepared by the beauty of it all.

One of the things about being a full-time artist with an open art studio, is that you hear all sorts of comments from visitors to Asheville’s River Arts District. Thankfully, most of the comments I get are really kind and very encouraging. Some comments are not very kind though, and honestly even if I get one negative comment out of a hundred, that one comment can bother me. But what would it do to the emotional nature of an artist if he or she never really made a profit from their lifetime of art-creating and if a lot of their creations were simply unnoticed or completely unappreciated? I know I’d crumble.

But this is exactly what I appreciate about Louis Comfort Tiffany as a man. He produced countless stained glass windows and lamps and he never did make a profit. How can you keep producing and actually improving in your creativity and your craft and not be making a profit? I have no idea, but that’s exactly what Tiffany did. Don’t get me wrong, some people recognized the incredible beauty of what this man was creating, but not nearly enough. There are stories about how people would purchase his stained glass windows at auction and pull out the glass and discard it, keeping only the leading so they could sell it. Unbelievable.

How can you keep producing and actually improving in your creativity and your craft and not be making a profit?

And in 1902, President Roosevelt had all the Tiffany windows in the White House removed (because they looked so “dated”).

The fact that this incredible artist/craftsman was able to forge on and keep going, and keep growing and keep creating his art is absolutely amazing to me. But this all just really makes me sad to think he never really was appreciated. That he did not rely on being appreciated says a whole lot about him. He is my hero.

Percolating Creativity

I love it when this happens. I’m consumed with this new concept for artwork. I’ve now got all my “ingredients” together to fabricate three prototypes and then…if…it…works, I’ll release them into the world. Pardon the drama. I’m excited.

Two blog posts ago, I mentioned that I was thinking about a new concept for artwork…a “sail” shape that would billow out from the wall. I’ve figured out how to make it secure and stay in place and hold the shape I dictate, so that’s good (see my last post “So then” for more info on that). But what’s blowing my brain is that there is so much I could potentially DO with this. I’m thinking of boring holes in the sail shapes, creating voids. I’m thinking of playing with strips with or instead of (in some cases) the sail shapes and bending them around each other (like a bent wood sculpture does). But the surface of all component sheets would be texturized with a flexible agent, covered with my metallic leaf, paint and one layer of resin. These shapes will be luminous and not contained to a single plain.

The next step will happen after the holidays, and that’s the fabrication of the first prototype. If that works (and per my experimentation, I’m pretty sure it will work now), my next post will include photos of all the prototypes.

In my Asheville art studio, I will probably always paint mostly landscape paintings (and that’s because I love painting landscapes!) but I do really enjoy creating abstract art as well. These would in a sense be abstract. The colors will be simple, but because the surface will be reflecting light through my paint, AND because as the surface bends and each inch of the surface catches light differently than the next, I’m thinking the result will be something visually rich, graceful and dynamic.

Well, that’s the plan. :)

We’ll see what happens. Stay tuned!

Planning for a Second Studio Location!

This winter, I will be doing the preliminary set up for a second art studio…in TEXAS! I love mountains or wild seascapes, so I never, ever thought I’d be excited about being in Texas but here’s the thing…three of my four kids are there and seven of nine grandchildren are there, and Joy and I have the opportunity to set up shop right there with them all. We’ll still be keeping Asheville, North Carolina as our home base, and St.Claire Art studio in the River Arts District will still be open there, but parts of the year (corresponding to slower tourist seasons in Asheville), we’ll be painting in Texas.

I’m excited about two things related to this: first of all, I absolutely love the idea of being close to our family, and second, this opens up new opportunities for galleries in the central U.S. and Rocky Mountain states.

…finding the ear of a gallery owner takes either a personal visit by the artist, or a connection via a third party…

I’ve always wanted to find gallery representation in that part of the country, but being on the east coast, it’s just too far away to realistically explore. And finding the ear of a gallery owner takes either a personal visit by the artist, or a connection via a third party who knows the artist and the gallery owner. This second option happened to me just this summer. There is a gallery Elk River, Michigan (on the north-west coast) that will be carrying my work in the spring and I’m really excited about it! I’ve been to that area and it’s gorgeous — and it’s frequented by tourists. This opportunity came about because a client of mine that lives in that part of Michigan knew a gallery owner and she played matchmaker, and I’m so appreciative whenever that happens because it makes my job so much easier!

So if anyone out there in cyber-land knows of galleries I’d fit into in the central US and Rocky Mountain states, please let me know! This spring, I’ll be ready. :)

On the Brink of a Huge Failure

It's Sunday, and traditionally a day of rest. And it IS restful today for me, but last Sunday...my head was in a very different place, and that place was not at all pretty. I was basically a basket case. Let me explain...

A couple months ago, my son (who was visiting Maui with his wife at the time) emailed me from Lahaina and says "Dad, there's a gallery owner over here that wants you to contact him!". I was not familiar with the gallery (or Lahaina for that matter) but apparently, because Hawaii does not charge sales tax for artwork purchased, it's become an art destination. And apparently, some the THE top-dollar galleries in the world are on Front Street running through the town of Lahaina. So, I contacted the owner of the gallery and ended up sending him two of my paintings. They are now hanging on his gallery wall there. But he then asked for three more pieces ASAP. Understand, these three paintings (of water lilies) have GOT to be amazing. Awesome. Unrivaled. Because, if this gallery picks me up as one of their artists...that's a total game-changer for me. It makes what I consider now as the artistic "big leagues" look like the pee-wee league. It's absolutely amazing (and humbling) that my paintings are even being considered for representation there.

So all that to say, these paintings are potentially VERY important. And last Saturday afternoon when I left the studio, they looked horrible.

The paintings had turned the corner.

I didn't sleep many hours at all that night. So after church on Sunday morning, Joy was okay with us heading over to the studio to look that these paintings with fresh eyes. To be honest, they actually looked a bit better than I'd remembered from the night before. So we prayed, and asked for artistic and creative insight. And we looked at these paintings afresh and figured out what to do next. I spent about an hour that Sunday afternoon a week ago implementing the ideas we came up with and...when I left that afternoon to enjoy the rest of my "day of rest" at home, I left a bit encouraged. The paintings had turned the corner. 

So now a week later, I honestly think these three paintings may well leave my studio as my favorite pieces I've ever done. Imagine that. How ironic it was I was really thinking I'd failed just one week ago.

There's a moral to this story I think. Maybe it's up to you to apply it to your own life and situation right now. Your input at this point would be awesome! I'd love to hear what you think!