Atelier article

[Steven Sweeney]

Some years ago a Minneapolis city newspaper profiled the atelier at which I was then a student. I'd assumed the article had long since gone the way of all newsprint, but I just stumbled upon it in a website archive.

For anyone interested in this type of training, and even for those who will never be inclined or able to participate in such a program, you might enjoy some of the insights and observations offered here, not only about the atelier regimen, but about the resurgence of interest in realism generally and the repercussions that's having in schools, galleries, and museums.

The article, entitled Get Real, can be accessed by clicking on that title.

[Mari DeRuntz]

Thanks for posting this link, Steven. Food for thought, posted the day I read about Nelson Shank's new atelier in Philadelpia, Incaminati, in the Portrait Signature.

All roads seem to lead to this sort of training. Here's the gist: seems to me no matter what you want to paint, the first hurdle is to train your eye, which is the core teaching philosopy of an atelier-style education.

I'll flip a coin: Mims Studio with Jeffrey Mims, or Incaminati, with Nelson Shanks and co?

[Steven Sweeney]

We should all have such a dilemma, Mari.

I would like to take the easy out and say, all other things being equal, go to the teacher to whose work you are mostly strongly drawn.

But there's no necessary connection between being a great teacher and being a great artist, any more than the best of editors is necessarily a great novelist.

And I'm finding that many prospective applicants are making their decisions on the basis of something as intangible as personal chemistry. "Is this a teacher with whom I want to have personal and professional contact every day for the next three or four years?" is not a silly question. We do hear stories from students who claim to have been classically molded by imperious curmudgeons, but -- speaking only for myself -- my life was too short for that nonsense by the time I settled into this vocation, and drawing and painting, though a serious pursuit, wasn't worth groveling.

I wonder if either of your prospects will put you in touch with former students, so that you might gather their input. (Be forewarned, the very request may be capital-I insult to some teachers. [Though there, I submit, would be your answer!])

To have both those mentioned options open to you is a surfeit of blessings.

[Mari DeRuntz]

Thanks for the response.

Hmmmm...I trained in a kitchen (the atelier of hard knocks) before culinary school, so developed a VERY thick skin and a good attitude about "I know nothing; I'm here to learn" otherwise summed up as "yes, chef," to say nothing about the agility developed ducking flying saute pans, having a rushing line cook spill boiling stock down your leg, and various other learning experiences that would make flying vine charcoal tantrums laughable by comparison.

In all seriousness, very valuable advice, but as long as someone articulate is commenting here and there, I'm trained to submit my ego for the chance to watch and participate. I believe the individual drives his/her education.

More of a hurdle is this obnoxious thing called life: mortgage, husband, two dogs, full-time job, and a determination to participate in my hobbies, all while training myself to paint, to draw, to SEE.

The way I figure, though, it's 2003, and why not do it all? It's just a question of making it happen, personal responsibility, all that.

I knew a girl who was Shanks' first apprentice; Danni Dawson. I married into and then divorced out of that decadent group of artists.... but her work remains an inspiration.

I'll commmit to a summer program, and doubt I'll have to eat dogfood and sleep in my car to do it.

[Steven Sweeney]

Always happy to see "Husbands" included in the "Obnoxious" list. By the way, you don't know my "Wife", do you? I'm thinking you've lunched together, and it seems as if it might have been recently.

Yeah, I could do the flying saucepans and boiling oil early on -- in fact, in my pending memoirs, I'm going to wonder with some residual anger whether I did too much of it -- but drawing and painting is now the fun part of my life, and I've developed an aversion to suffering for the nobility or sport of it.

I've also studied guitar for a very long time and I've never learned a passage or a lick I cared about from a player I wouldn't invite into my house for quesadillas, mas cervezas, and a late-night jam. I've become selective and particular in my old age.

And probably the most interesting instruction I've ever received on guitar -- which translates to the art work -- is that a simple tune, played attentively, with both feeling and craftsmanship, trumps almost every concerto for fame or fortune. And there's nowhere in the world that such a performance won't be deeply felt and received. But you have to learn the licks, and then get up there on stage and play. They'll love it, and if you do too, then you're there.

[Steven Sweeney]

The circumstances that brought me back to the U.S. a bit sooner than expected, in the company of my son and four hastily packed suitcases, serendipitously permitted me to attend the spring student show at the atelier where I used to hang out, The Bougie Studio, in Minneapolis, which was the subject of the article with which I began this thread some time ago.

It was a bittersweet event. The work was very good, which was particularly enjoyable to see with respect to a couple of students who were relatively new to the studio about the time I was leaving. The fruits of countless hours of hard work were in abundance. I felt a vicarious and undeserved sense of pride in my old studio mates

[Mari DeRuntz]

And yet, renewel is also taking place in this country. Mims' Studios is in its infancy - it is a very exciting time here, ripe with potential. It is growing a sight-size sculpting program as well, and while the program has not officially launched, I'm working in the mornings with Jason Arkles, who moved to Southern Pines to construct the sculpting program at Mims. Everything moves slowly because of the realities of time and money, but there will always be artists who are also teachers who will give what they can to interested students, despite less-than-perfect scenarios.

This weekend, I'm also travelling to Asheville to visit Ben Long, who also has a studio school in its infancy.

I understand your sense of despair; it seems sometimes that we fail our own community.

"If we, citizens, do not support our artists, then we sacrifice our imagination on the altar of crude reality and we end up believing in nothing and having worthless dreams."

(Yann Martel, "Life of Pi")