One should not be a 'slave,' either to reality or imagination, but arrival at that Off Duty
oil painting on canvas happy place where one is confident in both dimensions seems only to come when an artist reaches a certain level of maturity in their work and technique. Neither do I think this is a matter of finding the 'middle ground.' The best of hyper-realistic art is in a place beyond what we think is reality, whilst the most imaginative abstracts can be as concrete and 'real' as any careful and accurate study of a subject. Either way, depth beyond the image on the canvas is something towards which all of us should strive. Getting there can be a long journey, but one day that 'breakthrough' painting arrives.

What a struggle it is when one's mind insists on staying in a literal mode while
original painting painting. I always know when I am in this mode that my painting will lack that other indescribable quality, " authenticity ." Nowhere is this "Tyranny of reality" more evident today than in a full page ad in many current magazines that feature plein air painting. It is often evident that each of the eight or ten painters are fine craftsmen. There are beautiful edges, variety in forms, interesting color choices, unique compositions... but they all look the same. When I look further I see that the training and background of the artists is often the same. I do think that probably in the case of current plein air painters the goal is the same; to render a painting that portrays a particular subject, at a particular time, in a particular place. I am not denigrating that goal. It is admirably achieved, but I sometimes wish I could distinguish the individual spirit responding on that particular day in that particular place; in other words, an individually authentic response. Of course the best plein air painters do this and they grow and distinguish themselves from the pack, not by rendering, but by departing from the herd.

There's reality and then there's reality. At first there's getting to know what is Far Away
acrylic painting
30 x 30 inches before your eyes, how to see it and how to paint it. I believe this stage takes years to develop. It includes quiet time observing, sketching from life, and painting from life. During that time you're also acquiring the technical skills that allow you to put on the canvas what you see. But then one day you come to the point where that isn't enough. The paintings you were so proud of because their value structure was spot on, the colors so natural, the drawing so true to life seem superficial and lacking. At that point you leave off depicting one reality, the outward and observable, and begin seeking to depict the other reality, the one that's deeper, and more essential. That reality is harder to find, and harder to describe in words or with paints and brushes. It comes from within and without. It's what moulds great painters and poets. It's what will occupy you as an artist for the rest of your life. But, woe to the artist who tries to skip the first stage of observing and working from life. Their work, while looking less like visible reality and seemingly more like inner reality, will also be superficial and lacking. There's no shortcut to creating great art, the first stage is necessary, the second is sublime and the whole journey is a joy.

A vibrant impression is more life-like than a "realistic" interpretation. I love well Morning Light
original painting
14 x 11 inches done realistic renderings too but my own nature is truest in impressionism because it is more intuitive. For me reality isn't defined by detail. When I visualize something that I've seen, even when I am seeing something first hand, I can only take in certain things. I can only see more if I look further as if it's a movie rather than a single painting. Detail is like color, those who do detail best are those who are selective about which details to include. Even great painters such as Andrew Wyeth realized with all his wonderfully rendered details that they should not overpower the meaning and tension of the painting, and of course the reason his work is great is because they didn't. In my personal taste the art of painting is to get the emotions and the best part of the experience of being there in a clear, simple and charged expression.

Now that realism per-se has gained some acceptance, many artists are like young children Red Dakini
pastel painting on panel
72 x 39 inches with a new toy. They have found the tools and learned the skills to copy things photographically. I know I felt great at 14 when I could paint a copper pot accurately. There are many discussions as to how best to capture realism - heated discussions as to whether copying a photograph or drawing from life will give you the most accurate and desired results. It has occurred to me, if the aim is to copy subjective reality - whatever that is - the camera is the superior tool. However, making art is a different reality. Often we paint our dreams, and as in a dream, subjects can float un-tethered, scale is turned inside out and color is unhinged. Too much is made today, especially in judging 'realism' in art, as to how close to the subject the artist has come. I find it dreary, to see the 'no pore unexplored portraits' as a concise depiction of a human being. Equally depressing is the current hegemony of academic realism which celebrates much dreary and pedantic work. Gustav Klimt could paint photo-realistically, but he was not afraid to take off the lead boots of academism to create his magical works. He leapt into uncharted territories, much to our continuing delight. This is not a plea to return to the unskilled, sloppy self-centered, neurotic work of the last century; but to use some of the contemporary concepts to fuse a new aesthetic.

I love "the tyranny of reality." That reality drives me to my subject matter: the Serpentine Dragon and Lantern
original painting human condition. Truth/reality is always stranger than fiction unless you're a lunatic in which case your imagination can be evidence for incarceration. Don't get me wrong, abstracts are a reality. But, all realistic painting is preternatural, unless you copy a photograph of a found situation. Skill is not creativity. Even though I paint in a very realistic style, the still life paintings are all preternatural, a created reality of metaphorical objects that speak to an idea or concept about the human condition, and there in lies the surprise: Art is hard work. As Aristotle said, "The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance, and this, and not the external manner and detail, is true reality." "Their inward significance" is the metaphorical content.

Did Aristotle ever paint? "True reality?" Where is that exactly? The surface or appearance Wilhelm Farm
acrylic painting on masonite
7.5 x 17 inches of things is the life-blood of the representational artist. The inner-stuff is only a guess on our part, and this 'inner-stuff' is truly in the eye/mind of the beholder. It is only a guess. The American artist Robert Irwin said, "Everything is reality." I've met many seemingly passionate painters who want to express their 'inner feeling' for the things around them, and yet, when you see their art, their passion in invisible in the paint. There is no substitute for a good set of eyes to see the 'surface' of things. It is quite simple really, if you can't see it you can't 'feel' it, and thus you can't paint it.

While your letter, The tyranny of reality, was referring to painters, the same holds Lord of the Arctic
marble sculpture
24 inches tall true for sculptors. Approximately ten years ago, I abandoned the strict, realistic style in which I was working for a more contemporary one. By leaving out what I consider non-essential detail in my sculptures, I am better able to express the essence, the inner spirit, that is, the inherent nature of a thing. For me, this is very important; in hopes the viewer will not only see the beauty of the animal portrayed, but will also feel its undying spirit.

We have been weaned on photographic imagery and the camera lens thrives on the close I Remember When
pastel painting
30 x 40 inches up. This minute fabric of patterns can be very beautiful and seductive. I like to joke with my students that detail is like crack cocaine for artists. It is brutally addicting and soon takes over and ruins us. The great artists are masters at suggesting detail. They trick our brains into filling in the detail for them. I believe that there is an abstract fingerprint behind every object. If you get that sense, you will suggest the reality of an object. The real problem with detail is it is like frosting on a cake. You need a great cake or the best frosting is absolutely meaningless. The cake is the guts of the painting... the patterns of light and dark, the composition, the whole concept of the painting. It is there that the focus should be placed. It is easy, however to get seduced by the beautiful details and by focusing there, the unity of the painting quickly disappears like a mirage. We see and seek a palm tree oasis but get an arid desert. Detail is the siren song meant to ensnare and enslave the artist. Better to avoid this obsession. Fudge it and be free!

I have found that when I teach, all I really have to do is provide my students with Vase
Maple
5.5 inches tall the necessary tools - make sure the gouge is sharp, have the correct stance, feel loose, be in the right frame of mind. Once the lathe is turned on and the wood is spinning it is fun for me to watch the surprise when they hit the "sweet spot" where everything comes together - the shavings come off in loose curls, the gouge cuts clean and they just want the feeling to last forever. When my students can move from the occasional surprise to being able to create the circumstances for sweet turning then they are surprised again when they realize that they can turn whatever they can imagine. As woodturners, we start with reality and infuse it with imagination. Then the finished piece becomes an object of reflection. As an instructor, I am adamant that I don't want my students to copy me. I want them to express new ideas, see things in a new light and ultimately become instructors themselves.

You can easily become a slave to reality. Been there, done that, in my photorealist
original artwork phase--which is why I had to swear off photographs. But I realized a long time ago that nature is far more creative than I am. My best stuff comes not from taking reality by surprise, but from being taken by surprise by reality. So for me, rather than being enslaving, these moments liberate me from what I've done before, and I don't see how I could keep painting without them. On the other hand, the same thing can happen while painting. The paint takes over somehow, the eyes go out of focus, and again I'm surprised! I recently painted a stormy sky that I could never have deliberately invented or rendered from nature. In both cases, I don't know if it's "spirit," as you say, or just submitting to the muse. Maybe they're the same thing.

Most of my students get bogged down with details very quickly, even before they have Just a Pear
oil painting on canvas
6 x 6 inches the subject completely sketched out, and I must admit I was there once myself. I taught myself to step back mentally and look at the entire subject at once, so I can compare each value/color/distance/edge/etc. with all others. I have two tricks that I use for this constantly: squinting at my subject, and stepping back a few paces from my painting. I also sometimes take a picture of my subject and/or painting and look at it very small on my computer monitor, or use a mirror and look at it backwards. Each of these techniques reduces what you are seeing to its most basic elements, AND separates what you are actually seeing from the image your brain has pulled up for whatever the subject is. This helps one see, free of any preconceived notions, but it also helps one suggest what one sees onto the canvas/paper/etc., so that the process becomes more one of interpreting rather than copying.

Today I visited a gallery to see some paintings by Laura Buxton about the Bosnian Warrior
oil painting on canvas
60 x 60 inches conflict, which was also a topic in my current series of paintings. The difference is that she did these paintings right there, working en plein aire, shortly after the conflict ended. I did mine from twelve year old memories, using happy-snap photos as guides. My process required me to imagine how things looked and felt, and try to come up with believable settings.

Today, I saw that there's no comparison. Where I would have to think about how light would hit an object, she saw it. Where I would have to think about what colors might be in the cobblestones, she saw them. And it shows up in the paintings. Hers are much richer in color and texture, full of surprises in shapes and values and content. Next to hers, mine feel very predictable. At least to me.

As you wrote in today's letter, it's really hard to deal with the smorgasbord
original painting by Laura Buxton of visual information when I'm working in a subject-rich environment. But if I'm going to work in a representational manner, I really have to work directly from the subject.

There must be a balance, maybe doing workup sketches onsite, refining the composition in the studio, and returning to the site to get the richness in color, texture, and shape, maybe with refining some more in the studio. I just know that I have to do a better job of it. So I better get busy!