R is for Reproduction

In my business A to Z, R is for Reproduction. I am talking about prints. This is what I have gleaned from my 17 years of working as a Fine Artist, but as with most things art, the terms are historical and most of the information is advisory which leads to all sorts of confusion. In actual fact what most people think of as prints are not ‘prints’ in Fine Art terms but reproductions. So here are a few terms and their meanings: 

‘Limited Edition Print’: in most instances you will see this to describe a reproduction of a painting or drawing which is limited to a specified number reproduced and each is numbered (eg 10 of 50 or 10/50) and signed by the artist. There should be no more reproductions made than the stated number (run) and any artists proofs, though the image could be reproduced in books or for the artist’s own marketing.

‘Open Edition Print’: as above but there is no finite run. Each one is signed by the artist but not numbered.

An unsigned ‘print’ is actually a poster!

‘Split Run’ a term used to show that an image is printed at more than one size. If this is within a Limited Edition then the total number of reproductions is still no more than the stated number. This is a newish addition and came in with the advent of Giclée presses.

None of the above is actually correct in Fine Art terms unless you substitute the word reproduction for the word print. However, people want to buy ‘prints’ not ‘reproductions’ so in marketing terms artists have to use these incorrect terms if we want to sell any and keep making a living!

Correct uses of the terms print and limited edition refer to non-mechanical printing – the production of a lino-cut, wood-cut, etching, monoprint, etc produced by hand by a fine artist. These artists now have to use terms like ‘original print’ or ‘hand-made print’ as the rest of us have usurped their terms.

Another Fine Art print process is Stone-Lithography. The advent of commercial presses for brochures, newspapers, books etc used a similar technique with metal plates termed Litho(graphy) and art prints were made by specialist printers using this type of press in larger runs, with a maximum of 850 for a Limited Edition. The artist oversaw and quality checked the production, seeing ‘galleys’ (sample prints) and writing remarks on them to instruct the printer of any changes. In the final edition they sometimes hand drew a smaller image on the side of the image which was termed a ‘remarque’ to make them more individual and to command a higher price. The Galleys could be kept as ‘artists proofs’ in numbers up to 10% of the print run and are numbered outside the print run A/P x of x. By convention the Artist’s Proofs are not sold, instead being retained by the artist or given away to friends and collectors. As such they are seen as more collectable.

Litho for Fine Art reproductions has now largely been supplanted by Giclée (literally means ink droplets) – basically a very high quality digital print out of an image on high quality paper and using inks that are ightfast pigment based inks rather than the dye based inks used in your desktop printer.  

This is a Giclée press - as you can see, much larger than a desktop printer!

Giclée ink suppliers state that, displayed under correct conditions and out of strong light (any pigment fades in strong UV light, including paint pigment), the inks should retain quality for 80 – 100 years. In addition, a proper fine art giclée printer will have their scanner and output machine recalibrated to their computer and monitor by an engineer at set up. Fine art repographers also recalibrate scanners to their computers monthly. The Artist should should still see and pass ‘galleys’ for quality before the final copies are produced, and the signature on each reproduction in the edition is a mark of that quality control. Some artists still issue Artist’s Proofs, either the true galleys, or additional to the print run. Make no mistake. There is an art to getting the reproduction to match the original as closely as possible. Good repographers are few and far between. They expend time and skill making sure that the reproduction is as close to the original as possible. After scanning and initial set-up I will spend at least 2 hours with the repographer matching and adjusting the galleys so that the colours, colour balance and saturation is as close as we can get to the original painting. I spend many hours getting the balances right in my painting and would hate to see that destroyed by inferior quality reproduction, which can change the focus and atmosphere of the images as well as the colours and tones.

Below is an image of the original and some of the galleys or proof prints for my painting 'Breathe'. The various proofs have very slight colour and balance differences. NB the angle of the photograph (taken on my phone) has produced some lens distortions that make the lower images look 'stretched) - in real life they are the same proportions as the (large image) original painting.

 

As with most things of quality there is a cost to that, and one which the artist has to spread across the whole edition, so a smaller print run will cost more both from the set-up/repro cost spread and as the prints are more limited and therefore more desirable. There is a trade off to the artist or publisher between Litho and Giclée. The former gives a cheaper unit price ie cost of each print, but the run must all be printed at one time so the full cost of all the prints is paid up-front and can take years to recoup. Giclées can be printed in much smaller batches – even ordered individually - but cost considerably more per unit.

Some paper manufacturers make ‘fine art’ ink jet paper that they specifically market for desk top printers, (like the one you have at home). Some artists mistakenly think it is therefore OK to print and sell their own editions. Hang one of these in even indirect light for a short period of time and it will fade pretty quickly to almost nothing.

So how do you know what you are buying? In short, the easiest way other than asking the right questions is the price. If it is ‘cheap’ it is probably not Fine Art quality. 

I would love to hear your views and experiences of prints and reproductions, so please feel free to comment below.

Bladerunner, Bladerunner 2049 and Layers of Meaning in Art

My last blog’s musings were about paintings that work on different levels and whether we should have to explain them. In that I stated that I liked books, films and music that works on different levels and mentioned the film Bladerunner. This week fellow artist Julie Cross and I went to see the much-anticipated follow up Bladerunner 2049, so this post is about that, and the 1982 original.

“In 1983, my first year at University, I went to see the film Bladerunner as a double bill supporting feature to Firefox. I remember really enjoying Bladerunner on face value, but sitting through Firefox my mind kept returning to the earlier film and I stayed in the cinema to watch it again. I kept thinking that there was more to it, in the visual imagery but also in the narrative and themes.” I could follow up that from 1995 to 2000 I taught print media to BTEC and first year Diploma students at a Further education college. The wider studies of the students included film studies and I took over delivering that module in 1996. Bladerunner was one of the films we studied, so from my initial explorations of the narrative and themes I looked at the film more deeply, including reading books about the production, and there is a lot to look at and discover. It is tempting to say well I couldn’t ever see the layers, or its too complicated and difficult and that is fine, but for me a piece of art with layers and themes, whether book, film or painting adds a power and richness to the art, even if you only accept it on face value.

If you have not seen the original Bladerunner film, then do. Despite being an expensive ‘flop’ at the time it has gone on to wider appreciation, benefiting from the co-incidence of the rise of home video at the time, and is now seen as one of the best sci-fi films ever made. It is loosely based on ‘Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep’, a 1968 novella by Philip K. Dick, and was adapted for screen initially by Hampton Fancher.  The film brought Dick’s writings to the attention of filmmakers and subsequent adaptations based on his books include ‘Total Recall’, ‘A Scanner Darkly’, Minority Report’, ‘The Adjustment Bureau’ and Amazon Prime’s series ‘The Man In The High Castle’. Early differences between Fancher and the director, maverick Director Ridley Scott led to him leaving the project and David Peoples taking over as screenwriter.

The 1982 film is set in a completely thought out dystopian future-world, where environmental issues (Fancher’s vision) have led to a near constant rain and overcrowded, claustrophobic living conditions where modern technology is ‘retro-fitted’ (ie cobbled together), buildings are semi-dilapidated and the street-talk patois is a hotch-potch based mainly on oriental languages. Replicants, artificial beings, are created by the Tyrell Corporation as off-world colony workers. Animals, other than humans, are virtually extinct but again artificially produced by Tyrell. Bladerunners (the name comes from a novel by Alan E. Nourse, not from Dick’s book) are policemen dedicated to ‘retiring’, ie killing, rogue replicants who have escaped and returned to earth. Deckard (Harrison Ford) is brought out of burnt-out-retirement to retire Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer), Pris (Daryl Hannah), Leon (Brion James) and Zhora (Joanna Cassidy), the replicants all played by relatively unknown actors at the time. That is the basic first level story told in a film-noir detective style with action chases to add some pace at least. There is also a side romance between Deckard and Tyrell (Joe Turkel)’s ‘niece’, Rachael (Sean Young), an experimental replicant who thinks she is human, but was starting to suspect that she is not, which is then confirmed by Deckard’s Voigt-Kampff machine testing.

On this first level Bladerunner is not really a good film. It is slow paced even for the time and for modern audiences can seem torturous. Having been trailed as ‘action-adventure’ it received bad feedback at test screenings in Denver and Dallas and the studio bosses demanded changes that included a tacked-on ending (courtesy of out-takes from Stanley Kubrick’s ‘The Shining’) and Harrison Ford (reluctantly) going back to work to provide a Chandleresque first–person dectective style voice-over to help maintain audience interest and explain what the heck was going on. Critics gave mixed reviews and the film only became commercially successful after world-wide and video release. It was nominated for several awards, mainly technical and cinematography, and even won some UK awards (and one in Los Angeles). Though nominated for Best Visual Effects at the 1983 Oscars, it lost out to Spielberg’s ‘ET’.

However Bladerunner is one of those films that you can watch again and again and each time spot something else that you missed before. I suspect Bladerunner 2049 will prove to be the same. Both are visually sumptuous and stunning, with intricate attention to detail and atmospheric lighting. Both have haunting soundtracks – the original by Vangelis, Bladerunner 2049 by Hans Zimmer but reverting to Vangelis’ original at the end of the film. The plot in 2049 is more comprehensive and some of the themes of the original are nodded to or further explored. The huge advertising cameos that form part of the set being taken to a new dimension, literally, with the inclusion of interactive hologram imagery. The original film influences can be seen, especially but not exclusively, sci-fi film making in terms of staging and atmosphere to the present day and I suspect 2049 will continue that influence.

"Is he or isn’t he?"

That was always the question. Is Deckard a replicant who doesn’t know what he is? Rachael even challenges him after her testing, asking if he has ever taken the Voigt-Kampff test himself, and Zhora asks him “are you for real? Devotee lore cites evidence within the film that Deckard is in fact replicant. In the voice over version Deckard states that his ex wife called him a ‘cold fish’. Cop boss Bryant, while recruiting Deckard for the mission states that six replicants escaped, one "got fried running through an electrical field" which leaves five, but Deckard is sent after Batty, Leon and Zhora (combat and assassin models) and Pris (a basic pleasure model) ie only four, so is Deckard actually the sixth?. Bryant also states that Deckard is the best Bladerunner “I need the best, I need the old magic”, Leon having killed the previous best during his testing in the opening shots of the film. The inference being I need someone better than human. In one shot Deckard’s eyes seem to glow. Replicants have an attachment for photographs and Deckard’s apartment is full of old sepia photographs. As the film is set in 2019 if they were really family album then they would be digital or at least in colour. The adapted first released version also contained a Deckard dream sequence featuring a unicorn (again footage from another film, this time pre-production shooting for Ridley Scott’s next venture, ‘Legend’). At the end of the film as Deckard and Rachael leave his apartment she steps on an origami unicorn fashioned by Gaff (another cop who follows Deckard to check up on him throughout the film). So, the lore goes, Gaff knows Deckard’s dreams, which must then be implanted. Apparently Fancher says he wrote the character to be human but with ambiguity for interest, Ford says he played Deckard as human and argued with Scott who wanted ambiguity but more inclined toward Deckard being a replicant. My considered view? Deckard was human. A replicant would not be so terrible at his job. Deckard failed completely on his mission. Rachael shoots Leon while the replicant has Deckard pinned to a car and lifted from his feet by his neck. Zhora almost strangles him, and only stops because she is interrupted by a bevy of chorus girls returning to the dressing room, Deckard then shoots her in the back as she flees. He kills Pris but only after a fight where he fairs not so well and he is only able to shoot her as she is like a cat playing with a mouse and takes too long to finish him off. Remember Pris is not a combat model but a ‘pleasure model’ so he should be able to retire her with ease. Batty has Deckard on the run through the whole of their confrontation. He even saves Deckard’s life by lifting him as he hangs from the edge of a high building before dying himself through his built-in lifespan. No replicant would be that ineffectual. 

Bladerunner 2049 bears out my view. Deckard is not a replicant. The protagonist K (a nod to Phillip K. Dick? and played by Ryan Gosling) is a replicant but when he finally meets Deckard, the old bladerunner is, well, old. Replicants do not age. K is also effective at his job while Deckard was not, even though he tells K that he was. Gosling is very good in the role by the way and I have a new-found respect for the actor. One updating of the original plot is the love interest. Deckard falls in love with a replicant, K falls in love with a hologram. One of the themes in both the Bladerunner films is artificial life developing emotions, love and humanity. It is that very capacity that makes Tyrell build in a life expectancy of four years as the emotions make them 'unstable', rather less easy to control. In 2049, K has to undertake testing after every mission to prove that he is still unaffected and failure of the test leads to ‘retirement’. Batty and Pris are in love. Leon has feelings for Zhora, K and Joi (Ana De Armas) are in love, though Joi’s feelings are questionable as the hologram advertisement version of her model speaks to K and calls him Joe, Joi’s name for him that is only known to the both of them until he tells Deckard. Throughout both films it is the artificial life forms (though not all of them) that show compassion and feeling rather then the self-serving humans. Batty eventually shows compassion, seemingly to honour life, even Deckard’s life, more than revenge for the death of his friends.

“I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.”

Batty’s famous ‘tears in the rain’ soliloquy after saving Deckard and before he dies in the never-ending downpour is one of the most heartfelt, heartbreaking and beautiful speeches in film history. The monologue was altered from the script by Rutger Hauer, who invested heavily as an actor in the film. Hauer delivers a performance that even Phillip K. Dick described as perfect, and the perfect replicant.

Which brings me to another theme, one that is continued in 2049. Memories, more specifically, the unreliability of memories. The replicants are implanted with memories of other humans to give them emotional stability so the memories that they actually form themselves are more precious, hence the love of photographs. Conversely their own memories make them more emotional and less able to be controlled as they lead to emotions, hence the built in fail-safe of a four-year life span. In Bladerunner the return to earth is a quest to find out how long they have left and to see if that fail-safe can be removed, a human reaction and one echoed in the tacked on closing image voice over in the first film: Deckard “Tyrell had told me Rachael was special. No termination date. I didn't know how long we had together... Who does?”. By the way, watch the numbers shown closely in 2049 and that question is answered. Rachael cannot trust her memories as they are implanted from Tyrell’s niece, she says so when Deckard pressures her into a relationship “I can't... rely on... my memories...”. In 2049 K’s childhood memory and whether it is real or not is crucial to the plot. In Bladerunner Deckard’s photographs ‘move’ when Rachael looks at them. We are meant to question our own memories as to accuracy and reality. Ask any policeman, the recall of eye-witnesses builds a changing picture of the event so what is reality?

By extension of this eyes, and eyes as the windows of the soul, are another theme in both the Bladerunner films. Both open with shots of eyes in the opening montages. The Voigt-Kampff test works on eyes, Batty's visit to the artificial eye designer Hanibal Chew (James Hong) is an integral part of the plot in the original film and his freezing tube of eyes is echoed in the toy maker, J. F. Sebastian (William Sanderson)’s home with the tube of boiling eggs. Batty meets then kills his maker, gouging out his eyes and crushing his skull. The eye is symbolic of the soul and the question ‘can we make a soul?’ runs through both films. The creator or God in both films is human (Tyrell in Bladerunner, the blind Wallace in Bladerunner 2049) and the creation is artificial life so by extension if God made humans and humans made artificial life then should not the replicants have the same rights to life, to live and to extend life that we expect without interference from our creator? As humans we are flawed, we make fatal errors, Shakespeare illustrated this repeatedly in his plays. Tyrell makes an error in his chess match with Sebastian which ultimately leads to his death and the end of his god-like existence high above the teeming 'little people' 'humanity' of the streets.

Slavery has been purported as a theme for both films too, with the replicants being owned and their lives directed, but I see this as not just the replicants but the humans too. Deckard is threatened by Bryant as being seen as ‘little people’ if he does not comply, he is followed and monitored by Gaff (Edward James Olmos). The more troubling theme for me is misogyny. The first ‘love’ scene between Rachael and Deckard has always bothered me as near rape, certainly forcing, of a traumatised woman and the Hollywood favourite of breakingand control of a seemingly self assured, aloof, unattainable female beloved by Hitchcock and seemingly Harvey Weinstein. In both films naked and near-naked women are recurringly seen in huge advertisements as commodities. Zhora the assassin is an exotic dancer along with the biblical snake, Pris poses as a toy, a plaything (she is a pleasure model remember) in J. F. Sebastian’s house. In 2049 Joi changes clothing and attitude in the blink of beam of light to advertising men’s varying ideals of women. Only Luv (Sylvia Hoeks), Wallace’s creature and assassin keeps her clothes and she is a stone cold killer.

I have only seen Bladerunner 2049 once but want to watch it again. I think I will find more layers and themes, and anyway the cinematography and music is beautifully enjoyable. I like puzzles and think that this one will continue to distract me for a long time to come.

Should we explain our paintings?

"Please don’t let me be Misunderstood"

 Another music reference: I sometimes think that the song, first recorded by Nina Simone (co-incidentally in the year I was born) should be my theme tune!

A recurring conversation that I have with my art co-mentor, Julie Cross, is whether we should explain the meanings and motivations behind our art. Some of my paintings are pure studies – a cast of light, exploration of form or simply a scene that appeals to me. Whilst I was gaining confidence in my mediums and techniques this was exclusively the case, but now my work often has a deeper narrative.

I like films and books that work on different levels of message, imagery and understanding, commentary or philosophy, so it seemed natural to start to apply that to my own artwork. The interest has always been there. In school I loved my English classes, especially literature and remember revelling in studying ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ and discovering the political and social commentaries behind the seemingly childish story. I also took to the study of poetry; not just the use of words, but the rhyming patterns and meter of the poem and how they all contributed to the poet’s communication of ideas.  In 1983, my first year at University, I went to see the film Bladerunner as a double bill supporting feature to Firefox. I remember really enjoying Bladerunner on face value, but sitting through Firefox my mind kept returning to the earlier film and I stayed in the cinema to watch it again. I kept thinking that there was more to it, in the visual imagery but also in the narrative and themes. I have since seen it over and over, and have read the novel it was loosely based on and I always spot something new each time. A timely story in light of the recent release of Bladerunner 2049 (which Julie and I are looking forward to seeing next week *). It was that vague feeling that there was something deeper going on than the surface story that I hope the viewer will see in my work. It is fine if they don’t want to explore that any further, but I hope that they get the hint of underlying themes that make them want to return to view it again, even if they continue to accept the work at face value. 

* I will post a follow up blog next week that explains my Bladerunner references in more detail, and what I thought of the sequel for any film buffs out there!

In my third year of university my History of Art dissertation held a whole chapter on symbolism and narrative composition within the work of my chosen subject. This was an underlying narrative that again I recognised and explored by myself, as there was very little written on my subject at the time. That interest in symbolism and composition has stayed with me ever since and I am now applying the lessons to my own work. The Fine Art students that I lived and socialised with while at University (I studied graphic design and illustration) were encouraged, no required, to speak and write publicly about their work and privately my journals are full of my musings and planning about individual pieces or series and their motivations. But SHOULD I have to explain my work? If so, why not be a writer rather than a painter? To make everything explicit in the actual work itself leads me more toward illustration (been there, done that) than I am comfortable with and can make the overall design clumsy.

Maybe the question is am I painting to communicate or as catharsis or even exorcism? Should I hint? (my titles go some way towards that). Do I produce companion writings or talks to elucidate? I privately worry that my work will be dismissed as sentimental animal art  .  .  .  which it is, on ONE level.

“An amateur is led by his medium, an artisan uses his medium while an artist has an interaction, a conversation with his art and his medium.”

I do believe this. The creative process should be a conversation or dance between artist and artwork. This may be achieved through composition, colour, symbolism, brushwork and ideally a combination of those and others. Sometimes these are planned, sometimes the investment in the process produces its own unplanned statements, and that is when I know that the paintings is truly interacting with me.

“A painting should be a song sung with emotion and feeling, not a chant.”

For the artwork to leave my studio and have its own life it needs to form relationships with its viewers, and those might be different from its relationship with me. For someone to fully engage with an artwork they have to invest part of themselves in it – and have their own conversation. Being given all the information, in execution or in explanation ie an imposition of the artist’s conversation, excludes this interaction. So my own art appreciation leans towards good, thoughtful abstracts (rare in my opinion) or realism that draws me in, or talks to me about its private little realm. Of course I can appreciate the skill in technique, but to me rendering an atmosphere, mood or opening gambit is more likely to engage me than a painting that is so clinically rendered that it gives all the detail and all the information. I call these ‘talking-over-me-paintings”.

 “skilled vocalists know how to express emotion through their technique, not the other way around.” Teri Danz.

So the question stands. Galleries, agents, the art establishment and sometimes clients ask for explanations, motivations, inspirations so it seems accepted and expected. Then there is the other artist I met who told me that they only saw my work in a new light (and started to like and appreciate it) after hearing me talk about my work and process, and realising that there was “more than just a pretty chocolate box picture there.” (their words). See what I mean? The initial dismissal, and that seems the view of the art establishment, in the UK at least, of any artwork that predominantly features a non human portrait.

The perfect hanging location for a painting Or When is Art Not A Jar?

On Sunday I was at the official opening and prize-giving of the Society of Equestrian Artist’s The Horse In Art exhibition. There had been a period of over a month since I was at the handing–in day, where I had ‘walked’ paintings for the judging process, so was looking forward to seeing the artworks hung as a show. As a full member I am also invited to vote in the Cuneo Medal Award for the best body of work from a Full Member (SEA) of the Society, so I wanted a good look around in considering where to cast my vote. Most of the SEAs had their work hung as collections, but my paintings had been split over 4 walls. Although three of them were close together, the walls were zigzagged so the collection could not be viewed as such. Ah well, having hung exhibitions I know the challenges they bring and that it is not always possible to keep collections within the same viewing space.

One of my paintings, ‘Gathering’ was in an entirely different room . . . hung on a door.  Separated completely from the others and, I repeat, hanging on a door. I went outside for a coffee, a cigarette and a calm down. Nicotine and caffeine levels back to operational I returned to the gallery and looked again. This time my reaction was a wry observation that if I supplied a door shaped painting (tall and thin – 48" x 22") then maybe I should not be surprised or offended that that was where it was hung, although I trust said door is not in use for the duration of the exhibit.

'Gathering' on door                                     'Gathering' not on door

So on I went to view the rest of the exhibition in respect of casting my votes in the Cuneo Medal Award and for the Visitor’s Choice. The afternoon passed in the way of speeches, presentations - congratulations to Debbie Dunbar for winning the Cuneo medal – and catch-up-conversations and I settled in as passenger for the hour long drive home. Now there is a funny thing about traveling that sets off my thought processes. In fact I sometimes use bus journeys to kick-start ideas. Maybe it is the enforced inactivity (rare in my case), or something about the scenery flashing by in my peripheral vision, but it sends my brain into wander mode. In this instance my musings turned to my painting and the door. 

‘Gathering’ is a painting from my Innocence & Experience Series. It is a painting designed to work on different levels: an appealing sentimentality (common in the genres of equine and animal art) of a pretty girl on a cute pony; a nostalgia stirrer of the endless sunshine Summer days of childhood messing about with ponies; the unreliability of memories in feeding us endless sunshine Summer days of childhood; or my extremely personal reasons and meaning behind the work and series (hint: look up plant symbolism). Regardless of on which level the painting is viewed, I have had reported that most viewers of the piece find the work powerful and compelling or powerful and repelling. I believe that the fact that there are layers speaks to the subconscious even if the conscious is unaware. In art and mythology doorways are powerful symbols. Doors, arches, windows, passages, tunnels and windows mark connections to other worlds, planes, magics, consciousness and psyche.  So the symbolism of the (closed) door is actually perfect for my painting and adds a new dimension [no pun intended] to the artwork making a conceptual as well as visual piece!

So thank you hanging team. I gave you the perfect format and you gave me the perfect place for it. Just please, no-one open the door.

Romantic Vision, Tie Dye and Reality: Thoughts of an Artist's Admin.

This week I have a guest blogger - Lauren, who shares her thoughts on working alongside an artist:

I’ve been helping Ruth with admin and PR for about 8 months now. In that time my idea of what an artist is and what they do has changed considerably.

I’ve always thought how romantic it would be to be an artist. I imagined it would involve a lot of swanning around a messy studio wearing a tie dye skirt. I imagined a good deal of time would be spent being inspired by your surroundings and coming up with the next masterpiece.  I thought artists were a little zany and out of touch with society. Never had I thought about who would buy these great masterpieces or how anyone would indeed find out about the artists work.  Anyway, reality bites.

For talent alone, is not enough to succeed in the art world. And that is where my romantic vision ends. We have all heard of Dali, van Gogh and Damien Hirst. But how many of us could name the artist who lives down the road and is possibly even making a living out of it. There are thousands of painters, sculptors, photographers, performance artists etc out there, but you just haven’t heard of them. For the media just isn’t that interested in reporting about the arts. The media is only really interested in subjects and stories that are going to appeal to the masses. If an artist has managed to reach celebrity status then the media will quite happily tell you about their new exhibition. But if a relatively unknown artist has just won an international art competition, even the local media are unlikely to run a story. And herein lies the problem.  It is easier to sell your work and achieve a higher price if you are known. But to become known you need to be able to promote yourself and your work. Most artists have no idea how to sell their work and really struggle with sales and marketing.  Business is not something that they teach you about at art college. 

Social media has made it easier to make connections and keep your clientele up to date with your news but this still requires an ability to communicate and the time it takes to monitor and update your status on every site.  I also think it isn’t necessarily easy for artists to communicate in this way. Having a social media profile requires you to give people an insight into your personal life and views, which doesn’t always sit right with the quite often introverted and private artist.

Every artist also needs a website so the ability to create and update a professional looking website is also useful. Ruth is quite good at this thanks to her previous career in graphics.

The professional artist is also self-employed and needs to be their own accountant. You might also need to fill in in-depth forms for submission to an art gallery, exhibition or art association. You might even need to carry out a health and safety risk assessment for an exhibition you are holding.

So you see there are many hurdles that the aspiring artist has to clear to get to the point where they might hope to make a living from selling their work.

The romantic vision I had was definitely not the whole picture. An artist needs to have a business model and be a successful sales person and still retain the passion to create their work. I’ll have to ask Ruth about the tie dye skirt though!

I personally, like my home to look a bit individual. Art doesn’t always cost the earth and it’s nice to be surrounded by things that have a soul and a story. So I think it’s important that we support and encourage all artists. Life (and my walls) would be very dull if it was all Ikea’s pebbles on canvas.

Every Painting Has A Story

Every painting has a story: Its source; its process; its contribution to my style or learning; its history; its life after it is completed. A few of my clients like me to write down the story for them to keep with the painting through interest or for provenance. When I am manning my tradestand or at a gallery showing my work it is often the stories of the paintings that connect the viewer from simply admiring a painting to remembering it or even wanting to give it a home. Most artists find the ‘selling’ bit of their work very difficult, myself included. Maybe one day I will share that story; of why, and how I forced myself to be able to stand up and speak to people about my work, whether in a selling/marketing/PR form, or as talks and demonstrations. Suffice to say it has been a long, arduous, certainly uncomfortable, sometimes painful process and even, on occasion, physically debilitating, but it is a process that has been ultimately rewarding in some planned and some surprising ways. The easiest way for me to talk to people is for me to tell them my working process or to tell them the story of the painting.

Almost all my paintings start off as sketches and photographs. If I don’t immediately paint them, the photos will sit on my ideas boards around my studios and the sketches will sit both in my sketch-book and in my visual memory (one of the reasons that it is important for me to sketch) until the right time, if, or when that comes. I am a bit of a butterfly with sketchbooks, having several on the go at once, often 6 or 7 of different sizes, plus a small journal for both writing and little ideas drawings. When I sketch I have learned to leave blank pages around sketch pages for later development, but sometimes fill these with further sketches if I start to reach the end of the book without having worked up previous sketches. In this case development work is done in other sketchbooks, on receipts and cigarette packs, in my journal or in layout pads. Development work consists of re-drawing to correct anatomy, thumbnails of composition alternatives, colour notes, overall tonal notes and associated ideas that sit within the work to help convey narrative or atmosphere. Therefore my sketchbooks are not chronological – my journal is a better indicator of timeline.

I am lucky that my painting is character led so the stories are implicit. The stories of why I painted them or what they meant to me are usually less straightforward, but I have seen a progression in my ability to express my thoughts over the years. I have always thought deeply about my work and what I want to convey, and while once I was once content to simply make studies to consolidate my ability to render anatomy, texture, to practise skills within a certain medium, explore a medium and later to handle light-play or to experiment with technique, I am now wanting to push my boundries to expand the narrative and atmosphere of a piece. With hindsight I can see how certain pieces, even from when I first started to work with a painter’s mind-set, fitted into this progression.  With the benefit of my learning from the studies I am now revisiting sketches, ideas and even paintings that have been set aside for years as I now have more capacity to develop them to their potential. This makes the stories even more interesting to me, and hopefully to my audience, who get to see how much work and thought goes into a piece and how that piece lives after it leaves my easel.


Both the paintings I have chosen to illustrate the stories behind my work are side saddle paintings. When I first started as an artist I was heavily influenced by Charles Johnson Payne (Snaffles,1884–1967) and we have two of his prints, one of which is a lady jumping aside on a grey horse. Before I officially started my career as a fine artist I made some side saddle studies (right) and once started, I received a couple of commissions from sidesaddlers,
so using these to illustrate seems fitting.

Case study one: ‘Chuckle’, watercolour (2013). In 2012 and 13 I was looking at a lot of equestrian art that sat centre within a black, white, single or duo-colour background, which I found unsatisfying as the background was just ‘there’ and just a backdrop for, rather than playing a role in, the image. I was playing with the idea of compositional structures and for this I needed a strong subject image so I thought of the sketches and photo reference from a side saddle demonstration that I had seen at Blenheim Horse Trials a few years before. I wanted to work with an off-centre subject and make sense of this by an abstract background of colour washes. For the background to play a part in the painting it needed a structure, so the composition is set up using the Golden Section (also referred to as the Golden Rule, Golden Mean, Golden Ratio) and Nautilus Curve constructed from it.

The palette for the background washes are the colours that I use the most, then all the colours within the painting of the horse and rider are mixed from those four wash colours: Rose madder, Ultramarine, Sap Green and Madder Brown. The Abstract colours echo colour and tonal movements through either the horse or rider and the texture / dapple patterns on the horse’s neck were made using a repel effect with salt.

 ‘Chuckle’ was the first painting that I made using an abstract background, completed in Summer 2013 and first shown in The Art Show at the Great Yorkshire Show in July of that year. It was submitted to the Society of Equestrian Artists’ Horse In Art Exhibition in 2013 but, while being accepted through digital pre-selection process, was unsuccessful in panel selection. It was then successfully shortlisted in the Artists & Illustrators Artist of the Year Award the following year and shown at the Mall Galleries in London in January 2015 as one of 50 shortlisted paintings from over 8,000 submitted.

The painting was posted on social media in July 2013 and seen by Emma Brown, who recognised her horse Pipsqueak (Vintage Port). I had been told that the horse was called Chuck, and as the rider was looking down and laughing, had titled the piece ‘Chuckle’.  Through this contact Emma invited me to the opening meet of the Quorn hunt where 44 riders hunted sideways! From the public’s reception to the painting a Limited Edition of 150 prints were made. The prints are titled ‘Pip’s Party’ (Emma named them) as Pipsqueak is known to attend parties that she holds at her converted barn home. She commented that I had captured not only Pip’s character but also “the whole expression of happiness, measured as being sat on this horse”.

The original of the painting is now in a private collection, but prints from the limited edition are available.

Of course when I talk to people about the paintings it is not as comprehensive as that description, which was a written provenance for the new owner of the painting. I am driven by my work and my purpose, and to write such histories and regurgitate them would not allow people access to that passion.

Case study 2: Buckle Up, Watercolour (2015).

One of my sketchbook pages from the Quorn opening meet

This painting leads on from the first case study in that it came out of sketches and reference photos from the Quorn Opening meet that Emma Brown invited me to attend.

I have always been fascinated by the background story, the preparation, the communication and reflections between a horse and rider. Ostensibly this is a hunting picture, but actually it is not about that at all, which is why there are no hounds and there are only two horses and riders. In fact the painting is an expression of the feelings and nerves that I had before competing, whether that was eventing, dressage or any other discipline. Though I have never ridden side saddle, that rider is representing my emotions. Outwardly pretty calm, her inner feelings are illustrated by the ominous sky swirled with a sickly yellow. She wears blue to link her to the sky. Her horse too reflects her inner apprehension and anticipation, being tense, above the bit and with swirling marks to denote his restless tail (my horse was particularly sensitive to my feelings and often showed this frame before, but hopefully not during, a dressage test). The swirling marks are then also echoed in the not too realistic rendering of the grass beneath the pair. The composition is left to right depth diagonal, using the ground perspective and the cloud-line to focus the view onto the second rider: the professional, to the right of the first pair as per the convention of western reading from left to right. My hope for my future state of mind, he wears green to link him to the ground (grounded) where the marks are more controlled and uniform. The sky is calmer and clearer behind him, though the cloud line transverses his head so he is not entirely unaffected. His horse is relaxed and focused, echoing his inner calm. Whilst the foreground horse is painted in a range of (symbolic to me) colours, the chestnut horse is uses a more limited palette, emphasising reds for strength and boldness. Both riders buckle up their girths in readiness and anticipation for the day ahead. You can view this painting at face value: two riders preparing for a days hunting, or read deeper. Once my work has left my easel its life and story become its own and that of its conversation with the viewer, but I noticed at its first showing that many people returned to this painting to look again. Like a film that has layers, it stands reviewing even if the ‘true’ meaning is obscure, the fact that there is underlying meaning does seem to resonate with the viewer.
‘Buckle Up’ was again first exhibited in The Art Show at the Great Yorkshire Show but two years later than ‘Chuckle’ in 2015. It was accepted through the International Watercolour Society for the 2016 Fabriano In Acquarello International Watercolour Exhibition in Fabriano, Italy. The painting was also used in an adapted form for my 2015 Christmas card. The printer digitally cropped the image to the foreground rider only and then added snow!

'Buckle Up' and the Christmas card made from it

 The original painting is still in Italy as I write. The altered (Winter) image is planned to be part of a print set of four side saddle paintings set in the four seasons due to be published before the end of 2016.

The idea of the sky reflecting the rider’s feelings came to me many years ago. It is only recently that I have felt my control of the watercolour medium is approaching sufficient to be able to attempt to express that. My month of painting only skies in 2014 was part of that process. Writing my thoughts about a painting in my journal before working on it each day was suggested to me at a workshop with artist Lesley Humprey and is one that I have found very useful for clarifying those thoughts, inspiration and motivation. Dressage trainer Shana Ritter quotes the phrase “the horse is the reflection of the rider” meaning in schooling and dressage that the horse will echo tension or kinetic poise from the rider’s body, and my experience with my horse in particular re-enforced that that applies to state of mind as well as state of body. They are themes that I have only just started to explore and many stories and paintings are yet to come. I would be pleased to share them with you.

On Attending Artist Workshops . . .

I am not an art workshop expert. So far I have hosted four, attended five and observed at two more.  In preparing to write this blog I looked at other blogs and articles on the subject and was amazed at how many advocated researching the tutor, which is hard and sometimes impossible, to do - and as I cover in my next point, possibly pointless too. Conversely I do have a lot of experience of the horse riding equivalent: clinics. Over the years I have attended many of these both in pure dressage and in eventing. I know from this experience that the tutor-pupil relationship is a complicated and individual one, and the only way to find out if that relationship works is to experience it. In my riding, I experienced many trainers’ attempts to connect with my horse and me, and some who made no effort at all in that respect. More than once I went against my instincts and went to see well respected and well recommended instructors, but gained little from the process and sometimes even losing what little I had by becoming frustrated, confused or disheartened by the trainer’s style.

Art workshops are much the same, but even more so in that I seem to have an expectation of tuition that is standard in riding, but not necessarily present in art. Some take the format of the tutor working on or demonstrating a piece with the delegates following with their own versions step by step. Some use ‘set exercises’ followed by an open working session. Some are just free working with an occasional walk round by the tutor, who may or may not give encouragement, compliments, critique and/or tips. Some don’t comment at all. Add to the mix that drawing and painting are very personal, mostly solitary pastimes and that following these pursuits in the presence of others opens, not just your work, but your working processes to the scrutiny of others and it can make for a very scary, personal and soul baring proposition. For us solitary lot it is also often difficult to get into the ‘brain-switch-off-creativity-forward’ zone that producing our most satisfying work demands. I can very well see why many artists (myself included for many years) are reluctant to subject themselves to that.

Three years ago, however, I decided to change my mind-set on that. I rationalised that, while I constantly read books about technique, expression, philosophy and history, both on the art of visual language and the language and conversation of horse-riding, I only went for tuition in the latter. I felt I should at least try to apply the same commitment and openness to my professional that I saw as an integral element of my hobby.

I am still very much finding my way, especially in painting from life (though I have a lot of experience of drawing from life). As a studio painter I am finding that the discipline is very different and I can’t fall back on my tried and tested methods and colour mixes. So far most of my tutors have been oil painters and, apart from the odd gem of a tip, have had little practical help for me as a watercolourist.  I hope that will change at the next workshop that I am attending, being as it is painting architecture en plein air and taught by the American watercolourist and architect Thomas Schaller. I’ll let you know how that one goes in due course!

Those who have read my earlier posts on learning [One For the Earning, One for the Learning, Ever the Learner, Confidence is Key] know my profound belief in the importance of continued study. I am also well aware (my riding tuition taught me this much) that to improve necessitates putting away our egos, stripping away what we ‘know’, stepping out of our comfort zones and relearning basics. So, as dually uncomfortable and enjoyable as the process can be, I will persevere. I will, however leave you with two gems of advice and my personal list of things that I take to a workshop (as a sketcher and watercolourist).

Gem one: This is given to me nearly 30 years ago by my business wiz brother when I was hauling my portfolio around the London tube, in hopes of getting commissioned illustration work by visiting art directors.

He told me to prepare for each meeting by making a list of 3 aims – each lower than the last in terms of positive outcomes, but each having a positive result. You need to be more specific in the aims, these are just the descriptors of what you need to describe.

1)   The ‘power’ outcome, where you achieve everything you want and more.

2)   The ‘practical’ outcome where you get what you went for.

3)   The ‘pragmatic’ outcome where you don’t achieve your main aim, but achieve something else, whether that is experience, a managing of your own reactions, a promise for the future or something else.

This is such a simple thing, but has helped me in many instances and softens the blows of frustration or disappointment.

Gem two:

The old five ‘P’s mantra: Patience, Persistence, Practise, Persistence and Patience.

My Checklist.

A4 and A3 Sketchbooks

Journal

Drawing implements (various)

Watercolour paints (I take 3 palettes but am working out colours to take for a single workshop palette)

Brushes (again I am refining a workshop brush set. So far most used are my 22 mop, a chinese calligraphy brush and a 7mm flat.)

Kitchen roll

Water pot (I have a small collapsible pot that hangs off my easel but also take a 9cm diameter plastic pot with lid that was an old sea salt container).

Litre Bottle of painting water

Camera (with charged battery)

Easel

Board for easel

Watercolour boards cut to size (quarter sheet)

8” x 16” watercolour pad (great for small studies on single page)

Board clips

Plastic sheet for painting in the rain (mine is a slit open plastic bag from a full sheet watercolour board so is about 60 x 40”) but I may invest in a clip on umbrella at some stage.

Rucksack stool – can be used as a stool or small table as well as holding my sketching materials.

Small plastic bag for rubbish

Water (drinking)

Flask of coffee

Packed lunch (if needed)

Cigarettes and lighter

Mints

Straw sun hat

Sunglasses

Sunscreen

Lip balm

Stock hat for wet weather

Rainproof jacket

Yak jumper (yes it’s made from Yak hair, fleece-lined , warm and windproof)

Gilet/other waistcoat with pockets and/or cargo pants one of which has at least one zip pocket for keys etc.

Thin leather gloves that I can still paint in while wearing. I don’t get on with latex gloves though they are supposed to be better, warmer and waterproof.

Sturdy boots

Change of shoes and socks

Money

Phone (charged of course)

Collapsible rolling crate and/or hours at the gym training to haul all this lot around.

Open attitude