Plein air painting. Warm for February, but when the sun went down, pretty cold.

Was able to paint outside today for 6 hours! Amazing for February in Alaska.  This time last year, my friend Eric Deeter and I plein air painted in -10F and it was all we could do to keep our fingers and toes from falling off with cold. The oil paint began to get sticky, and we worked quickly - probably spent no more than an hour on our painting.  Today was very different in that the temperature was fluctuating between 30F and 45F, sunny, and downright balmy comparatively.


This is the February 2009 piece:

I have been fortunate to have some success in my chosen career as a Fine Artist - a visual journey of joy, and yes, some disappointment and tears, but somehow have been able to help support my family for many many years. This is due of course to working diligently, more often than not, about 16 hours a day, and treating my ability to paint as an applied skill and my 'career' as a job. When the work is completed, the agents notified that new work exists, and loyal collectors of my art and new potential collectors warmed up to the idea, paintings delivered and/or installed in their new homes, life is good.

Along the way there have been TV and radio interviews, write-ups in Arts papers, many solo and group exhibitions, fine art posters ...all the usual things one expects to do to become and remain in the publics eye. Many fashionable cocktail parties have been attended, (which have never been my favorite), but in a large metropolis where there are many great artists, one must 'appear'. Mostly, there has been a great amount of luck, knowing the right people and being at the right place at the most opportune times.

Well, I don't want to bore you with the workings behind how I have managed over the past 40 years, other than to tell you that it leads up to the subject of this article, and why it is being written in the first place.

A very fine 'youngish' artist called me for some advice. He had been painting for a number of years; excellent work by the way, well crafted with great appeal. He was having a difficult time selling his work he told me, and could not find much in the way of gallery/agent representation. I confess to finding this strange because his work is better than most, and unique enough in his impressionistic style, and in particular his subject matter. If I had a gallery, I would have snapped him up.

After a few meetings and all the advice I could give about what had been successful for me, he thanked me profusely and said that I "had HAD my day in the sun, and now it was his turn"!  My immediate thought was 'whoa, I'm not done yet!' Yes, I have had more birthdays than he, but by no means is it over. It did make me feel rather old though.

One thing I have never felt toward other artists is competitiveness. We are all unique in one way or another, and our work will speak to many or few, but all valid nonetheless. There has also never been a question in my mind about helping other artists if requested - passing on the hat but that is not passing on the torch!  Besides, I don't want just one day in the sun, I prefer a longer vacation than that.

Established artists become established by being there consistently, creating even when times are rough, getting the work out there. Collectors who 'invest' in an artists work want to know that the artist isn't going to up and quit anytime soon. Longevity in creating adds that extra value for a collector - the art then becomes much more than something to decorate a wall or match a sofa. Established artists have indeed paid their dues and earned their stripes.

Bring on more sun please - I'm still here, I'm still kicking, and I'm definately still painting!

All right, a New Year to dream and plan into. 2010 sounds so futuristic, and I suppose it is; modes of communication around our planet in the blink of an eye via 'social media' - internet connecting people in ways science fiction writers of the 40's - 70's such as Ray Bradbury and Robert Heinlein projected. Yeah, right, we said. Amazing but will never happen we thought.  Hmm.  I don't even want to mention George Orwell.



And what of Art?  How has it changed?  Artists 'painting' on their cell phones, cartoon style images popular with the new generation of art buyers. Do they actually buy art or is it uploaded?  Is there still room for those artists of my generation who employ the physical use of paint to canvas and paper, the drawing skills learned without the aid of mechanical devices, the plein air landscape artists?  I wonder about these insidious changes when I view the works of this newest generation of creators. There is a darkness in some of the works, and an anger toward the status quo. My generation and those previous have all had this attribute - shake things up, shock people out of complacency - have we now become part of the new status quo?






A couple of years ago I read a review by an art critic who is also an accomplished abstract painter, writing about a lovely impressionistic exhibition by a very good artist.  The critic's memorable comment was "Do we really need another landscape?"  My immediate response was a resounding 'Yes!'

Yes, because maybe one day there won't be much of a landscape left to enjoy, but mostly, for the reason that Art is the great destimulator - if even for a few seconds, a person viewing a well painted landscape will be in an aesthetic moment where troubles and bills and ills do not exist!  That is the gift of Art. This also happens with abstracts or any other form of painting, or music, or writing, or dance.... all of the Arts.  Yes we need more landscapes, portraits, figures.....yes we need all forms of Art. Even when I was making a good living solely as an abstract painter did I hold this viewpoint.

So, how will I plan for the new year in my career?  A lot of good things were achieved in 2009 - 5 of my paintings won 7 major awards, I was invited to participate in several important juried exhibitions, works were purchased by collectors, new friends were made and thanks to the internet, some collectors from long ago were able to find and get in touch with me.

As long as people still live in houses and have walls in need of art, I shall continue to paint what I love and want to share.  I will continue to create 'escape portals' from everyday trials.  Should there one day be no physical walls, I shall continue to create, only using different media than oil and canvas.  Perhaps I would learn to paint with light!  Creating holograms!

Now I should catch up with this century and get an IPhone. Think it's time to get rid of the old dial up one?  2010 here we come.


  



 

This holiday season has had me looking back a bit at Christmases past, not in a 'Scrooge' kind of way, but recalling the family and friends who have helped shape my life and the traditions we held dear which held our family close. I worked to pass these traditions on to my children, and they in turn to theirs.

One of the traditions we had was visiting the castle (Casa Loma) over the holidays, to see the trees decorated and lit throughout the spectacular rooms, and climb the winding stairs to the towers for an overview of the city.




                                                    



                      


   
                                        


The decorations aesthetically placed all through the castle cast a magical spell, and one could almost imagine the great feasts which must have been prepared.

                                 
                                                               



                                                   


After visiting the castle, home we would go for our own feasts and enjoy the warmth of the season. And to coin an old cliche,  Be it ever so humble, there is no place like home for the Holidays.



                                        Candles                                                 Photo Diann Haist

   

                                              Decorations                                  Photo Diann Haist

                                                Our Real Christmas Tree                 Photo Diann Haist

                                                


                 

I have been asked by a young artist for my take on the subject of critiques and criticism of art so decided to write a few lines from my honest personal opinion.

A critique is usually welcomed, if asked for, by someone the artist trusts. Why would you want a critique in the first place?  Well, some of the many reasons could include the fact you the artist would like to improve in picture making, or something isn't quite right and you don't know what it is and need an objective viewpoint.  These are the two reasons I primarily request a critique.  Should I ask my non artist mom or brother, or spouse?  Not usually as from them I would probably get a biased opinion that whatever I do is nice.  I don't want 'nice' when I'm trying to problem solve - I want 'nice' when I am truly proud of what I have created and not before.  Even then, 'nice' is a term most artists cringe over. We want 'spectacular' or 'absolutely beautiful', but 'nice' usually means it's mediocre.  We are trying to create an effect that impinges!

Also I do not like anyone to see what I am working on until it is finished because any comment about it, good or bad, can sway my decision making if ever so slightly. If a well-meaning person walks into the studio and says something as simple as "I like that blue colour in the background", when I was going to gray it down with orange or whatever, my thoughts will then be muddled a bit when the brush is loaded with another colour - 'If they like the blue, am I making the right decision to change it" etc. etc etc....... Then it becomes their painting and not mine - to me a time waster in the straightforward thought process of painting.

That being said, on many occasions I have asked well-meaning non artist people if there is anything in a painting which bugs them or sticks their attention, or where their eyes go within the piece I am working on, always asking specific questions and not a general one such as "what do you think?".  This sometimes gives me a guide if I am too close to it to see any out-points. This works best if asked for instead of being originated.  Like this scenario - you are in that coveted zone working on a painting and happy with it's progress.  Someone, for any reason, pops into the studio for a second and says - 'that person's eyes look weird'.  "Really?"  (You like the eyes the way they are and resent comments otherwise). War, words, how dare you etc. The comment about the eyes may have been correct, but what will be resented is not seeing it and asking about it yourself. At least this is how it works for me - I am an Aquarian and a bit sensitive anyway, if that has anything to do with it.

So who is best to ask for a proper critique? Another art professional is best - at least then you would be speaking the same language such as - "reduce the values in the secondary point of interest" or " the vertical perspective does not correspond with the vanishing point" or " too many straight lines" etc. This I understand and can fix as it is more specific than 'something doesn't seem right.'

Now criticism is a whole other kettle of poisson.  Criticism is just that - criticism. Yes, constructive criticism is quite valuable if it gives some direction in how it could be done better, as in a critique, but if it just tears the art to pieces, that is the down side of the subject. There are so many varying opinions and tastes regarding art. Personally, I have had some doozie criticisms in my forty-year career, mostly in the early days when I was impressionable and not as secure in my craft as I am now, and a few times I was flattened and thought I would never paint again.  That unfortunately is one of the side effects of scathing criticisms - they tend to stop an artist from creating.  The tough ones plow through it and develop a bit of a thick skin, but some just give up. That is a crime in my books.

Not everyone will like what you do. Out of 6 billion people the odds are pretty even for every taste in art. If I like abstract expressionism, should I criticize someone who works in photo realism?  No, I have no right, and neither does anyone have the right to criticize any artist based on taste or opinion - unless their motive is to stop them from creating.

Ask for and accept critiques if you choose, but ignore criticism which invalidate at all costs.

ADDENDUM: We often talk about being on the receiving end of critiques, but not much about the responsibility of the person giving them. Whenever I am asked to critique an artists work, the first thing I do is ask them what they were trying to communicate, what did they want their center of interest to be etc...that way I am better able to ascertain if they achieved what they wanted and be better able to suggest ways to do it better. This way, the communication remains theirs and not mine. I will help with the technical means to get their communication across better if I can.  It is their creation after all.





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Mortality and the Artist

It's a subject no one likes to think about.  Personally, I think
it's profoundly unfair that an artist's work outlives the artist, but
there you go.  

The untimely loss of my dearest artist friend to a traffic accident
recently has had me pondering this for quite a few days.  He had
been working on some major projects which were garnering museum
involvement, as well as painting for upcoming exhibitions. 
Tragically, these shall remain incomplete, and we will not see his
vision realized other than through sketches stuffed in boxes and
drawers.

Part of my ponderings led me to the corners of my own studio with a
critical eye looking for incomplete projects - several jumped out at me
and I began to plan their completion as a priority. It is so easy for
me to procrastinate and in doing that, some things I have wanted to do
for years just sit there in everlasting wait-mode, the 'To be or Not to
be' area.

Another thing, in some artists studios, there are inevitably works
which for one reason or another just didn't come off right - I call
them 'stinkers'. Personally I stick these pieces in a large portfolio
if on paper, or roll them up if on canvas, and put them in a 'to be
reviewed, re-worked or just plain chucked' area - decisions to be made
later - again procrastination.

As in the case of my friend who also had his own private
to-be-dealt-with stash, I was concerned that a few of them might show
up in a gallery retrospective of his work some day.  I knew some of the
pieces he was planning on re-working and cringed a little for
him just in case.  Because I also would not want that to happen to any of my
rejects, yesterday was spent ripping up, cutting up liberally with big
scissors, and throwing out pieces I just knew I would not get around to
handling.  It was in fact liberating because a decision was
finally made about them and my attention could go elsewhere - to the
creation of fresh new pieces. When they were in the 'maybe' pile, it
was a little bit of dunnage occupying my creative universe, but it was
imperceptible until I actually dealt with them. I can rest easy knowing
that when I depart this life, hopefully in the very distant future,
some well meaning soul will not hold my rejects as precious pieces of
art. I must now continue to keep this pile weeded out.

As an aside to the weeding process in the studio, I had to do this when
no one was around, including my wonderful studio assistant who
protested the throwing out of a piece or two in the past.  Because
the work must meet the artists personal standards, only the artist can
decide if it is good enough or not, does it meet the mark? True,
sometimes an objective viewpoint is necessary, but in the end, what the
author of the work decides about it must stand.

Back to my friend's work - he was a terrific artist, but did not leave
behind a huge body of work. I am so thankful to be the owner of one,
and now wish I had a few more pieces. The family has decided that no
more of his paintings will be sold in the near future, although some
limited edition giclees will still be available. A lovely collection of this artists
giclees may still be available at Madd Matters Gallery.

Some advice for collectors and lovers of art - if you like the work of a living
artist, for heavens sake, make arrangements to buy it - at some point
it may be unavailable for purchase or cost an astronomical amount, and
besides, buying a living artist's work enables them to continue
creating and adding more beauty and meaning to all of our lives. Let's
not take for granted they will always be there.

Attended the opening and awards presentation of Art For Alaska State Parks on 02 October 2009 First Friday at artist Alexandra Sonneborn's Paintspot Gallery  in Anchorage Alaska.  So many beautiful paintings, all depicting or representing specific Alaska State Parks.  There were oils, watercolours, acrylics, pastels, in styles varying from high realism, impressionism, and fantastic expressionist pieces.

Artists represented in this inspiring exhibition/competition were among the best - Marianne Wieland, Douglas Girard, Betty Atkinson, Teri Jo Hedman, along with many other excellent artists, not only from Alaska, but from other states as well.

Because there were so many excellent paintings in the show, you can imagine my delight and surprise to be given 4 honours with 3 of my paintings which were juried into this exhibition of Top 30:

- Grand Prize, Best of Show - Art For Alaska State Parks
- Best Wildlife/Bird - Art For Alaska State Parks
- Peer's Choice - Art For Alaska State Parks
- People's Choice - Art For Alaska State Parks

Here they are as photographed with ribbons on them in the gallery.

Plein Air painting is adventurous anywhere at any time, but in Alaska, one must be prepared for absolutely anything. The saying here goes, that if you don't like the weather, just wait 15 minutes and it will change. So true.

On this particular day of a 6-week long painting trip to Whittier, it was bright and sunny, so I set out with my gear to paint by the harbor.  My subject of interest was some weathered boats with nets dragging and their colourful flotation markers glinting in the sun. No sooner had I roughly sketched in the composition, the sky clouded over drastically - then came the rain.  A few spits - I thought, this will blow over soon. Wrong! Torrents of water, and then wind. Whittierites say that Whittier is the birthplace of the Wind, and I am inclined to believe them.

Not one to give up, and the boats I was so enamored with so enticing, good use was made of the hatchback of the trusty VW van, and tarps which are handy to have, created a bit of a tent to protect the palette loaded with oil paint. The wind didn't like the idea of a tent, so the tarp soon became just a drape to at least keep water out of the paint box.







After getting myself and gear adjusted in spite of the weather, the painting was coming along nicely. Around noon, my fingers were getting a little cold and I longed for a hot bowl of soup and a good stiff latte.  Some friends had just stopped by to see how I was getting on, and we all walked a little way to a nearby cafe.  Truthfully, everything is nearby in Whittier.  After a nice warming lunch we walked back to where I had left my painting set-up. To my horror!

The wind had pretty much disheveled what I thought was an anchored-down French easel, the tarps were blown everywhere, and to my astonishment, the canvas was still attached to the easel, but the paint was running down it.  What, I thought? Oil and water don't mix! How could this be?  Aha, I had forgotten that I was using water-soluble oils!  Ha....that was a light bulb moment to say the least. Of course they would run - they are 'water-soluble'!

So, dusting it off, drying up as much as I could, undaunted, or rather, more like stubborn, I continued with my painting, this time in regular oil paint, until I could take the wind no more.  This was a hard-won painting, and again, out of stubbornness, I refused to 'touch it up' in the studio.  I thought, this is what I got, so that's what you get. I really didn't want to diffuse the fabulous experience.

Friends, meeting the future together, no matter what it holds, looking for hope and a better world.

What's an artist to do?  Recession or no recession, artists have always had to come up with solutions to keep bread on the table to feed their families, just like any other person.  Some are working in what we call a 'day job', but what if they get laid off?  Yikes. Well, most of us are resourceful, if we keep our spirits up, and don't agree with 'it can't be done'.  

In the mid-nineties, there was a deep recession in Canada, where I was living and working as a professional artist at the time.  I was also married to a professional musician, and our sole livelihood was made from our respective careers.  The first things to be cut from public funding were Arts Programs; venues such as museum shows, folk festivals, galleries, recording companies closed up shop.  Musicians became 'Indie', Independant Recording Artists. Some brave Folk musicians got together and formed their own recording studios.  My musician spouse was recording his music in his own studio, and it was still getting played on the radio. Well known musicians began hosting Open Mikes in coffee shops upon whose walls, paintings were hung by local artists.  Painters without galleries were taking it to the streets - street festivals sprang up more than ever.  

Personally, I began teaching 7 days a week in my studio, and from which I am proud to say, several new artists began to thrive, and still are to this day.  My main gallery didn't quit - they advertised more, in less expensive ways than glossy mags, but with more distribution such as flyers in the daily newspapers.  They also suggested I do paintings on paper for a while, which could be sold for less than the larger more expensive canvases.  This proved to be a worthwhile venture, and they continue to sell my works on paper, even after the financial stress had absolved itself from the country.  This has made it possible for first-time art buyers to start a collection and it has more intrinsic value than a print or reproduction.  

In this rambling, which it is, I just wanted to point out that, it CAN be done, and if one keeps the spirit alive, one can still make a living with their art, and flourish and prosper, no matter what.  Just get creative with marketing, (doesn't need to be expensive), have a good affordable website or blog from which to communicate; try oil on paper, or watercolour, or whatever....just keep doing it.  You are an Artist, and have great worth to society.  Thank You.

Wishing you much success,
Diann Haist

Update: On 17 September, 2009, Eric Deeter was tragically taken from us in a traffic accident. His art will live on as a legacy to this Artist's worth to Society.


Eric Deeter, painter, at one time professional jazz and blues piano man, carpenter, and gourmet cook of Alaska wild salmon.  I have mentioned Eric Deeter in numerous blogs; in fact, Eric is the artist who challenged me to do a self-portrait which was the subject of an earlier article, simply titled The Challenge of the Self-Portrait, as well as the master-mind behind The House That Artists Built.

 I had the pleasure of making Eric Deeter's acquaintance in 2006 at a gallery reception at which we both were exhibiting in Anchorage Alaska.

Before we actually met, I saw his work in the gallery, and it had such an emotional impact on me that I was compelled to stand before it, allowing it to become part of my 'universe', for lack of a more descriptive word. One piece in particular was a large acrylic on panel of a mountaineer leading his mule.  The atmosphere around him appears to be a snow or ice-fog.



Later that year, Eric Deeter and I met again when we were both being interviewed on a televised benefit for PBS.  The piece he was exhibiting was a large watercolour of an Alaskan Native man bringing a tea cup to his lips.  One would guess that it is a hot drink he is about to imbibe as the motion of his fur jacket implies howling winds, and one would hope the liquid in the cup is warming.



Having relocated from the Seattle area, Eric, along with his young son and wife Gretchen, a school teacher and accomplished poet, lived in the bush communities of Alaska for a number of years, and there, many subjects presented themselves for interpretation into a body of paintings.  Deeter was working primarily in watercolour at this time.  A few years later, they settled in the Matanuska Valley where he began painting with acrylics, finding them to be a good medium for his layered colours and quick drying time.

In 2007, I had the opportunity to work with Eric and the Alaska Plein Air Society group of artists.  Eric had just begun painting with oils, and his colours became richer and more transparent, much like his watercolours, just with more paint.

In watching Eric Deeter work, I have been reminded more than once of Pierre Bonnard, the French Post-Impressionist.  Like Bonnard, Deeter creates his paintings in a format which allows him to cut some off if it improves the composition.  Bonnard would tack a large piece of canvas to the wall, paint and scrape paint back off, leaving the texture of the canvas visible, and if the format did not suit him, he would cut some off, or add a piece on.  Bonnard did not paint from life however, which Eric Deeter does primarily.  Like Bonnard, Deeter does not rely on an inflexible colour scheme, relying instead on personal experience and what each individual painting dictates.  In other words, his painting methods are not formulaic, but leave room for experimentation and personal expression.

One thing he does do consistenly however, from my observation, is 'plug in' all of his warm colours, usually a muted orange, and then cools them down with grayed blues and greens, leaving the warmer colours sparkling through and around the cooler strokes.  This creates a kind of optical dance on the canvas, and the paintings glow from within, creating their own light. 

In late fall, 2007, Eric took a trip to Nepal to capture the essence of the people and culture there, as many artists have done before him.  He has created a body of work from this trip which I feel not only captures the spirituality of Nepal, but also the very air.  Deeter uses as few brushstrokes and employs as little detail as possible to imply reality and a sense of motion and life within his subjects.   All of his paintings tell a story, and leave enough to the imagination of the viewer to make a complete communication, the give and take of it.  What are they doing, what kind of life must they lead etc., are all questions one could pose looking at any of Eric Deeter's paintings. He has a passion for life and it shows in his work.

Eric Deeter is a young artist whom I feel has a bright future.

Some of Deeter's smaller Alaska and Nepal paintings will be on exhibition in Seattle, Washington through October 2008, at The Fountainhead Gallery . Here are a few of the pieces which will be on display there, and if you are in the area, or even make a point to be, you won't be disappointed.














...and a painting he did of yours truly.  Diann Haist painting en plein air.

You are invited to visit Eric Deeter's web site to learn more about him and see more of his work.