Teaching the Teacher

I had the great honor of teaching a pastel workshop to a group of artists and art teachers this past weekend in Columbus, Nebraska, in the beautiful Central Community College Fine Arts building.

Wow. 

This class was much too short. Not that we didn’t get a ton accomplished, but we – or at least I – had so much fun. I love working with artists who are willing to accept ideas or concepts with which they are not familiar.  Believe me, I know it’s uncomfortable to step away from what has been successful and makes you look good to try new techniques or theories, especially in a situation where your efforts can be scrutinized by others.  The courage and openness with which these folks took on new ideas and approaches was gratifying and exciting.  I can’t believe I get paid to have so much fun.

Sharing your accumulated knowledge in any setting is a huge challenge, and one I heartily encourage everyone to try, at least once.  It’s one thing to think you know your stuff and to use it yourself in the comfort of your workspace away from distractions and differing opinions.  Alone in your studio you can trip and stumble and start again without witnesses. With eager students taking notes on your every word and waiting for you to give them the keys to the secret of successful landscape painting it’s a whole ‘nuther thing. Humbling indeed.

Trying to organize everything you’ve ever learned in your brain, form it into complete sentences using words that may or may not convey exactly what you want, get it to dribble out your mouth in the right order, bounce off someone else’s experience and  settle comfortably onto the space between you, your student and their easel is an immense challenge and responsibility.  Then to squeeze it into useful units of time over a too-short couple of days…

What you know, and think you know; learned and think you learned; read somewhere but can’t quite remember where is all put to the test.

You’ve also got lunchtime, snack time, bathroom breaks and bouts of giggling and silliness to squeeze in there as well.  For those of us who work alone, those can be the most important times.

The big challenge, from my experience, is for students – and teachers - to get comfortable failing in front of their peers. We all want to impress our friends, even in a class. No one wants to look like a klutz. However, classes should be where klutziness is encouraged, and even honored.  If you keep doing what you’re good at, what’s the point?  (I have bombed rather spectacularly in front of a class demonstrating a technique. I save my tortured ego by believing that it gives those watching some relief to know that even those of us "in the know" have their moments. )

(Voted coolest painting apron. I gotta get me one a those.)

Huge thanks to the gang in Columbus for your kindness and grace and for making my weekend so great. 

Take a class. Better yet, teach someone. Let me know how it goes.

The Light Goes Out

You’ve heard the news by now; renowned and reviled Painter of Light (trademark) Thomas Kinkade has died.

Hundreds of articles are being written about him even as I write mine, and thousands of online readers are posting comments either adoring or scathing and snarky. As a member of the art community, and a blogger as well, I get to add my 2 cents and small beam of light to the conversation. (And for using the word ‘light’ in connection with his name, I will probably get sued and owe money to his estate.)

 It seems folks either love him or hate his work. I was never a fan. My friend has a small collection. His images make her feel good.  They don’t trip my trigger.  So what’s the big deal?

I suppose we want our artists to fit our pre-conceived mold; artist as thoughtful, slightly daft, non-business oriented, emotional,  shy, as set-apart from the 9 to 5 world as the moon is from the sun.

It appears that Kinkade was none of those things.  He was a calculating business man and a marketing whiz.  He provided the masses with charming cottages and flower-lined paths despite the best efforts of the current art movement to shock and bewilder with preserved sharks and giant ballooncreatures.

He was the art world’s version of Wal-Mart.

Don’t we all love to bash Wal-Mart? They’re everywhere; inexpensive, low brow, white-bread.  It is said they don’t pay their employees what they deserve.  They buy goods from companies outside our borders. Their growth has stifled small business owners and wiped out individual shops across the country.

And yet…

When you need a gallon of paint, a pair of white socks, a box of cereal and a tire iron, it’s just so much easier to sneak into Wal-Mart and grab it all in one fell swoop.  We can hate ourselves for it tomorrow.

Wal-mart fills a void that Harrod’s doesn’t  – or won't. (Can you imagine Wal-Mart having a visitor's guide?) Kinkade filled the void left by Damien Hirst and others of his ilk. Kinkade understood that and played the game like a master. 

At a certain level, it’s all business. Sorry to burst that bubble.

Flick the lights once or twice.  Shoppers, the store will be closing in 10 minutes.

Condolences to the Kinkade family.  

Join the Club

I promised you photos of yesterday's closing reception, and you shall have them.  Handsome Husband and I are pooped and exhilarated, and deeply grateful for all the support we received from family, friends and the staff at Stuhr Museum.
Oh, and we made the 10/11 News channel twice; here, and here.

Lots of good friends braved gorgeous temps outside to spend the afternoon with us...

... to catch up on friendships ...

... and renew acquaintances ...

... and to enjoy being seranaded by local talent Helen Johnson.

Oh yes, and to spend time appreciating not only my Land Marks exhibit, but the Wings Over the Platte exhibit as well.

©Patricia Scarborough  Birch Moon  10 x 8 oil on panel   Recently added to a Private Collection

Nearly a third of the paintings from the Land Marks exhibit ended up in the collections of discriminating patrons. Pleased beyond belief barely scratches the surface of describing the feeling.

I have always painted for myself, which is a risk. I have no idea if my work is acceptable to the market or prevailing decorating schemes or next year's colors. When someone adds my work to their collection it is profoundly satisfying because it is based on something deeper than a passing fad.

It's like getting the secret password to an awesome private club, complete with a covert handshake and sly wink. Pretty exclusive. Very special.

If you'd like to join the club, it's not too late.  Membership is limited, but we can make an exception for you. See Land Marks here for a short time only.

Final Notice

Handsome Husband and I are off to Stuhr Museum in Grand Island, Ne., to attend the closing reception for my featured exhibit,  "Land Marks", and the juried show, "Wings Over the Platte".

I'll have photos of the event, although it'll be waaaay better if you come see it for yourself.  Come say farewell to the last of the sandhill cranes and see the museum and art exhibits for free today from 2 to 4 pm.

Stop by tomorrow for photos of the afternoon. We'll get back on track next week.

Until then-