Showing posts with label Joanna Zeller Quentin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joanna Zeller Quentin. Show all posts

Friday, December 9, 2011

The Importance of Being Educated

Yesterday I had the very great honor of being awarded the 2012 HITS Themal Desert Circuit (CA) Show Program cover.  HITS produces some of the richest and most highly attended and regarded hunter/ jumper show circuits in the country, and to be selected as the cover artist is quite a big deal.  I've been invited to the HITS Ocala Fine Art Gala several times, and I was also honored to participate in the HITS Saugerties Art Gala in 2010.  I've never been to Thermal - in fact, I've never been to California - but it looks like I now have an excuse to go!  Hundreds of riders from across the country attend these multi-week shows, and I'm excited to be able to put my work in front of a West Coast audience.

The HITS Ocala cover was also awarded this week, and it went to a wonderful artist from Florida - Mary Verrandeaux.  I've had the pleasure of meeting Mary a few times (at the Ocala Art Gala, in fact) and I really, really like her work.  But my favorite thing about Mary is that she and I graduated from the same college - the Ringling College of Art and Design.  She graduated in the 1980's, and I graduated in 2000, both of us with degrees in illustration.

I owe a debt of gratitude to my college, and I'm proud to say I'm an alum.  I came to Ringling in 1996, with a decent amount of drawing skill from high school and middle school art classes.  Magazine pictures, attempted photorealism, unremarkable still lifes, the usual.  My first year in college, our professors took all we knew about art and threw it out the window.  They challenged us to rethink the whole concept of how to draw, how to paint, how to SEE, and in the process, they tore down everything we thought we knew about art and forced us to start again from the beginning.  My second year painting teacher had such a formidable reputation that almost of the students assigned to her class switched to the other painting instructor.  I had an unspoken rule never to change professors, so I ended up in a painting class with only three other students, and for a whole year, we had almost an hour of one-on-one instruction every other day. (Painting classes were 3 hours each, three days a week.)  We learned to PAINT.  (We also learned to stretch our own canvas and make our own gesso, but that's another story.)  I had only had one unhappy experience with oil paints (I painted a hideous flower and my mother rightfully banished the painting to the laundry room) before I walked into her class, so if I have any skill at painting today, a huge amount of credit goes to her.  My illustration teacher was an innovator of American illustration (seriously, he's in the book "Innovators of American Illustration" by Steve Heller) and introduced us to the idea of art as narrative.  He gave me some of the best art advice I've ever received in my life, and I often think of his words when I'm particularly vexed by a painting.  His daughter was "into" horses, and she actually showed at Madison Square Garden (pony division, if I recall correctly), and so he and I spent a lot of time discussing horses.  He gave me hope that a career revolving around equine and wildlife art was possible and encouraged me to continue on that path, and I'm forever grateful to him.

I had other influential teachers in figure, printmaking, English lit, and computer illustration, but I will forever cherish the four years of art history we were required to take.  We weren't just taught art history with names of artists, dates and schools of thought, we were immersed in the time.  We learned how the art and the music and the fashion of an era went together, how politics, war, famine, wealth and industry affected not only the art of a nation but impacted the entire worldview of its people, and how such events spurred and nurtured - or stifled - the proliferation of the arts worldwide.  If I am ever fortunate enough to teach art history, that is the model I will use.  Art doesn't develop in a vacuum, and to teach nothing but dry names and dates robs the student - and the teacher - of the most compelling parts of the story.


New!  HoofPRINTS Notecard and Print  
"To the Jumper Ring" Pen and marker on bristol board 
© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Pulling out the orphans... plus dressage!

One of the advantages to being able to pursue both commissioned and self generated work is that I get to start on a lot of really cool paintings that I might never get the chance to work on if I were relying on a client commission.  Many clients want a carefully controlled painting, starring themselves, their horses, their dogs or cats, their subject, etc, etc, etc.  Since this is exactly what a "commissioned" painting is, I'm perfectly okay with that!  If you as a client have the idea and the concept (and the money), I will paint whatever you want in any way you may desire.  And hopefully at the end of the (painting) day, we both go away happy.

On the other side, there's self generated work.  This is work that is done either as a self promotion piece or a learning curve or to fit a possible show theme or simply because you have an idea that you want to try and capture in an "artistic" way.  Since there's no client looking over your shoulder, there's no pressure to get it done a certain way, and lots of happy accidents can occur.  On the other hand, unless you are shooting for a predetermined deadline (upcoming show, advertising, etc) there's no real incentive for you to finish the thing quickly.

Sometimes these paintings sort themselves out wonderfully.  They practically paint themselves, and at the end of the day, you have a nice new piece of art to hang, sell, use, enter, etc.  And sometimes...

... there are the orphans.

Every artist knows what I am talking about.  THOSE paintings.  The ones that are just too cool to throw away, or the ones you've invested too much time/work/paint/frustration in to walk away from (or slink away in defeat), or the ones that are really kinda sorta NICE... if you can just figure out 1) what the problem is and 2) how to resolve it. Sometimes I'm rapturously in love with a single square inch of board, and that square inch is the sole reason for the painting's continued existence.

This is one reason why art studios are usually pretty cluttered, by the way.  It's very hard to give up on a painting or drawing, and so they get stored away, tucked into portfolios and behind cabinets, and then they multiply like evil little failure rabbits.  But every once in awhile, it's nice to unearth them from the clutter, dust them off and see if you as the artist (and master of your own destiny) can make some magic happen.

I've got a bunch of show deadlines in the next few weeks.  A ridiculous amount, actually, the kind of number that drives me from my bed at 4:00 in the morning to come into the studio.  (Hello everybody!) And this is where the orphans come in handy.

As I write, there are 9 paintings/ drawings hanging out in the studio with me, propped up against walls or scattered on the floor.  After carefully reevaluating them with fresh eyes (some of them have been in an unfinished state for several... years (sigh) now), I think there's enough promise here in a few of them to pull out the old paintbrushes and make a concerted effort at finishing a few of the damn things, thus putting me at least a few hours ahead from the dreaded "blank canvas" stage I'd be in otherwise with deadlines looming and panic attacks and all that.  Huzzah!  So now instead of having to start and finish a few paintings by... oh, let's say April 15th... now I only have to FINISH three of them.  And that is much more workable.  (And then start on May's deadlines!)

Really.

Here are a few of my (favorite things) orphans that came under review this morning.  If all goes well, hopefully you will see these guys in their completed incarnation this year in various and sundry venues.

All images © Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com


© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com
© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com
© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com


And then, just for fun, here are a few of the almost 800 (yes, 800) pictures that I took at a dressage show today.  The weather was nice, the horses were gorgeous, the drive was peaceful... not a bad way to spend a Saturday.  These are the moments that make life as an equine artist worth living.  Enjoy!

All images © Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

© Joanna Zeller Quentin 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Inspiration, meet brick wall. Problem.



Every artist goes through this.  Heck, EVERYONE, artist or not, hits this point once in awhile - where nothing seems to work and the creativity batteries are exhausted.  One of the benefits of a professional education in the visual arts is that, as a student, you learn to push through those blocks.  Don't feel like drawing?  Too bad.  Your job is to show up, sit down and produce credible work.  It may not be a masterpiece (or it might) but it will at least be passable.  Plus, (insert artist here, as everyone seems to have "heard" this from a different source!  I thought it was Picasso, but, alas, no verification) once famously said that every artist has 10,000 bad drawings in them.  So, even if what you are creating is fit only for the bottom of the bird cage, at least you are slogging your way towards drawing #10,001.
I know this.  I realize it.  I embrace it and expect it and know that if I just grit my teeth and push through, I will eventually be rewarded by a return to some sort of spark of inspiration. But in the meantime, and it IS a MEAN time,  I have half finished artworks watching me from all corners of my studio and precious little desire or desire to work on them.
The only consolation (small one, to be sure) is that I have spoken to a few friends (and fellow artists) recently who have all confided to having the same "lack of momentum" problem.  One of them is a bestselling novelist who stated simply that the book in her head wasn't "ready to be disgorged on the page yet." She finished with one word, which I think sums it up nicely: "Problem."

Fellow artists, how do you keep your motivation on days (or weeks) when things just aren't happening?

Here is where Tempest stands at the moment.  Notice the ink wash(es) and then the scratching out... ad infinitum.

"Tempest" WIP ©Joanna Zeller Quentin 2010.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com

and here is a new little portrait, just playing with color, also a work in progress. 

"Poised" WIP © Joanna Zeller Quentin 2010.  All Rights Reserved.  www.MoosePantsStudio.com