Questions for Faculty Part #1

For issue #161 of International Artist Magazine, we interviewed six faculty artists on the topics of technology, technique, and education/teaching. We couldn't publish all of their answers in the magazine, so here are the words of wisdom from the faculty.

TECHNOLOGY QUESTIONS

1. How has the advancement of technology impacted your own art career?

2. Do you use social media to promote your work, and have you received commissions from that platform?

3. In your opinion how is the advancement of technology affecting art careers, such as digital media, mechanical enlargements and 3D printing.

4. What advice would you give a young person that has decided on a career in art as far as education and training?

   
   

Alicia Ponzio, The Builder Portrait Vignette, 11x5x7”, bronze on wood

Answers from Alicia Ponzio

Programs like Z-Brush and Maya are the standard in 3D modeling for digital animation. Though I use traditional methods in my practice as a fine art sculptor, I find that there is an increased demand for the skills I teach. Many of my students over the years are 3D modelers working in videogame design and animation. I teach courses regularly at Pixar Studios, where character designers and animators are encouraged to develop their skills in traditional sculpting. The tactile nature of clay modeling increases our understanding of form in a way that digital modeling alone cannot yet replicate. 

At the same time, new technologies are rapidly changing the way sculpture is produced commercially. Many foundries are transitioning away from the traditional method that begins with clay and involves mold making and wax work. They are instead investing in scanners and 3D Printers. In the medallic (coinage, medals) art world, mints now expect artists to submit a digital asset rather than a traditional plaster model of the design. The community of artisans that practice traditional bronze casting (and I'm sure marble carving as well), is shrinking and dispersing as these skills are being replaced with digital processes. As a sculptor, community is important as many sculpture-related processes require a team. There is certainly pressure to learn new methods. I currently do my own bronze casting and continue to use traditional methods, but I feel it will be imperative to remain open to new developments in the coming years. 

My preferred social media platform is Instagram. The format has worked well for me over the last 10 years or so. It's an effective way to keep in touch with clients and students. I have made sales through Instagram, but I find that clients are most comfortable purchasing work when they have a tangible connection with me outside of Instagram. It works as a showcase for me, and a portal for communications.

All processes were once new. Though we think of bronze casting as a traditional method, 5,000 years ago it was a radical new technology that transformed economies and spurred massive sociopolitical changes. Photography is now well established, though in the 19th century it was cutting edge. At the very heart of our artistic practice must be our initial love of form, or color and value (as a painter), or narrative, emotional experiences...these are the things that make art great. These are the timeless aspects of art that transcend media. I believe an education in traditional artforms is important, not only to the artist, but it offers benefits to individuals in any field. I would (and I do) encourage students to develop a strong base in traditional media but remain open and continue to learn about new developments during and after this training. I do believe there will always be a place for traditional methods, but the standards in practice will change on a large scale and it's important to be in touch with the present.

Adrienne Stein, Swan Fantasy, 45x39, oil on linen

Answers from Adrienne Stein

I have been using social media for many years to provide an intimate window into my studio and current projects. I love to share my process with fellow artists and art lovers. It has never been easier to create community this way. I have made direct sales of my paintings from my Instagram and Facebook accounts. Social media presence also makes it easier to reach potential students who are seeking instruction and are drawn to your particular approach.

With the advent of AI and widespread use of image-generating programs like Midjourney, I worry for the career security of friends who are in the animation, gaming, illustration, storyboarding, and fashion industries. As a fine art oil painter, I am somewhat insulated from this threat, as the currency of my work will always be in its slow “hand-made” quality and the expressiveness and irreplaceable mark of the brush and tactile medium of oil paint. It is not made simply as an image for reproduction.

My advice to young artists is to use technology to your advantage by focusing on building your audience. Be personal and personable. Pique the interest of others by sharing your process and personal reflections about your work. People will always be drawn to the human aspect of what we do as artists!

EDUCATION AND TEACHING QUESTIONS

1. Can you tell us about how you decided to go to art school and what your experience was like?

2. Would you recommend to an aspiring artist to go to art school or seek out alternative educational path?

3. I know you teach on a regular basis; do you find that enhances your own work and how do you fit that in around your painting schedule?

Dan Thompson, Bo, 18x24”, graphite on paper

Answers from Dan Thompson

The decision to go to art school was, for me, generated at a time of tremendous uncertainty. There was no genuine way of comparing or contrasting schools, no internet, and no network of colleagues to confer with about four-year curricula. I was a complete social outcast with zero awareness of talent versus temperament: a key to smart learning. Additionally, the meaning of artistic know-how has shifted over generations in ways I could not appreciate. Our contemporary creative interests are not suited to academies designed to incubate a different era of practitioners, even those from 35 years ago, when I studied. Nevertheless, I entered and completed the program of a leading legacy institution with full dedication.

My experience of matriculating was awkward, wrenching and infuriating. The majority of faculty-led discourse was a one-way dismissal of my objectives, intended to intimidate me and dismantle the very notion that painting representationally would have any legitimacy. Their venom against portraiture, which I was enthralled with, was especially lethal. Among the gang of jaded and bitter instructors was a pivotal professor named Bill Newman, who encouraged students to embrace the bizarre in life. Working with Bill was an inflection point for me because his lessons offered hope via technical transcendence. An ironic prologue to the summary is that my art school, founded in 1869, collapsed in 2014 from mismanagement, negligence and, quite possibly, educational malpractice.

For an aspiring artist, it is imperative to get to know the terrain, territory and culture of an appealing educational environment. Schools are infused with a certain flavor - which reflects their founder’s vision as well as the professional ambitions of the faculty members. It also means that, by their idiosyncrasies, schools are not suitable for every candidate. The better each student knows who they are, their goals, and perhaps their deficiencies, the more likely it is that she or he will find the right fit for what they seek. 

The physical environment I teach in delves heavily into a traditional form of legacy training in the fine arts. This kind of competence is universally applicable to a variety of pursuits, be they animation, oil painting, special effects 3-D modeling or the finest of fine arts: Drawing. Students who seek the depth inherent in “classical” ways tend to have more opportunities at their disposal than those who prematurely specialize. To aim to be a great painter is preferable than endeavoring to become a great portrait painter, as J. S. Sargent famously advised. Learning should establish a selection of expansive career paths in the creative industry, anticipating a shifting sense of how artistry is defined by each practitioner.

It is courageous to want to be an artist; to enroll in a school is a faithful act. For some, the in-person environment is not suitable, being a formidable financial impediment. A reasonable alternative, as of 2024 - 2025, is that motivated students can survey the pluses and minuses of an online education. If the candidate is self-driven, a very good time manager, disciplined and capable of recognizing that an artist is a self-employed person, either option will produce results. Many of those I work with online have extensively sampled the virtual setting, eventually settling on a blend of in-person and online studies. Such individuals would still need to find an online mentor and work with that master artist long-term. I am honored that many artists have selected me for this role.

“Those who can’t do, teach” should be reintroduced into our civilization as “Only those who can do, teach.”

I have aspired, over 25 years, to provide the kind of educational guidance that reflects a genuine emphasis on creative principles – not method-driven techniques for blind observance by those who choose to work with me. My instructor’s role is to demystify skill as a host of conceptual tools that I organize to enable those who already hold perception and passion in their grasp. My teachings evolve out of studio practice. They should exist out-of-sequence, so that I can address learning-to-draw improvisationally. My students respond to the question of sequence (what to do and when to do it) by producing their own malleable gameplan. This ensures that the classroom studio environment remains a laboratory of ideas. It also supports the notion that student epiphanies generally arise from unexpected places, where intuition meets procedure. Lessons are devoid of living comprehension until my students “discover them for themselves” (Bridgman). This means that growth is produced out of experimentation, and forges the intellectual athleticism that sound knowledge requires.

Studying art is framed as an “unnecessary” devotion, even a self-indulgent vocation. But if the arts (visual, musical, performing) are rescinded from culture, there isn’t much left. A reverence for studying Drawing is a resounding salute to tradition, to history. It is also profoundly optimistic. I maintain that my student’s journey toward aptitude is worth the toil, the frustration and the failures - earning expertise feels like creative enlightenment. The depth of the Technical Narrative is vast and enhances everything we do in the arts because it is self-revelatory. 

Timothy Rees, Summer’s Last Night, 27x32”, oil on linen panel

Answers from Timothy Rees

When I was younger, it didn’t seem to me that universities could teach the type of realism I wanted to learn, and beside that, I couldn’t afford art school. I thought art would be something I would do on the side. In my mid 20s I learned that artists were still able to paint the way I wanted to paint, and shortly after I learned about open studios (short sessions of painting from a model). I moved to the Palette and Chisel in Chicago to attend open studios (session are free with a membership). Although I never went to art school, painting from models many days out of the week was instrumental in learning how to paint. In my spare time I read and looked at any resources available to me on how to paint.

I have come to find it is different for everyone. Some people would benefit from the structure and curated curriculum of an art school. Others would benefit greatly from a mentor. Both of these are available through art school. Others like to figure things out for themselves, and their thirst for knowledge and exploration can make the structure and slower pace of a school difficult. My recommendation is to find an artist or school working in a technique that is desirable, then follow that direction. The RIGHT school or mentor is more important than going to just ANY school or teacher.

I have always believed teaching enhances my work. From the very beginning, the need to articulate every concept has provided a clarity of foundation techniques that has allowed my more complex methods to develop. My work, and the way I employ methods, is now completed with specificity and intent because of this deeper understanding. While I don’t teach every day anymore, I find that teaching offers me a chance to distance myself from my studio, then come back with fresh eyes and inspiration to forge ahead on paintings. A week here or a day there typically does not encroach too much on my studio time. When I did teach full time, I showed up to the studio at four in the morning every day to get four hours of painting in before class started. Sleep has always been the first thing to cut in favor of painting.

BEYOND TECHNIQUE QUESTIONS

1. When viewing your work there is a powerful emotional content, are you aware of that and is it intentional?

2. Technically your work reflects solid training and understanding.  How did you move from rendering what you see to incorporating more of a story?

3. Have you always been inspired to paint the human figure or how did that develop?

Michael Bergt, Joan of Arc, 15x10”, gouache, color pencil and gold leaf on paper

Answers from Michael Bergt

I often take notes about themes or classical references before I start a work. On occasion, I find a specific model to explore those themes. Once I’ve found my subject, I like to draw from life to better understand what I’m trying to achieve. I use my drawings as the reference source for my paintings so when I do an egg tempera painting, I’m first responding to my drawing, then to some quick reference shots for details. This is closer to early portrait painting (pre-photography), and I can feel the difference in the imagery. I prefer the slight stylization or interpretation that the eye and hand naturally make in rendering from life. Then I can focus on refining what I’ve found in the drawing in the process of painting.

I had the theme of “Joan of Arc” on my mind when I found a model I felt perfectly suited fit the concept. I’d been working on shaped icon panels with water gilding and traditional egg tempera. This combination of media is a nod to early Italian religious altar pieces, but I’m using secular themes. One of the notes to myself was to use gold with stylized flames for the Joan of Arc composition. I’ve also been interested in evoking more emotional content in my work, and being burnt at the stake seemed like an opportunity to address a more emotionally charged situation. However, I wasn’t interested in raw drama; I wanted a sacred feeling to the emotional content.

I’m drawn to work with the figure not as a reference to daily life, but more as a vehicle for a more transcendent concept. Our bodies are more than simply a reference to our corporeal existence; they also hold the capacity to represent something transcendent—a way to address something internal that is sacred in all of us.

Shane Wolf, In Trutina, 118 x 79”, oil on canvas

Answers from Shane Wolf

I suppose it is difficult or even impossible for the creator of any given piece to be fully aware of its emotional impact on others, but I can indeed say with certainty that while behind my easel I experience a wide range of emotions as I live the inevitable artistic highs and lows. And whatever those emotions are, they are inescapably imbibed by the work and thus, hopefully, transmitted to the viewer.

I often hear that my work evokes the original meaning of "terribilità", meaning the power that emanates from my figures creates awe, and perhaps even disturbingly so. I take this as an immense compliment as it signifies that the elegance, strength, beauty, and power I see in the human form does indeed transmit to the viewer. 

I believe an artist needs a thorough understanding of how to speak visually before he/she can begin telling a visual story. Just as the poet must first know correct grammar, have a broad and robust vocabulary, understand sentence structure and rhythm, so too does the painter need a profound grasp of form, of color, of anatomy, of composition, etc. Only once there is this solid foundation may the poet and artist choose to improvise, bend or break supposed rules, and play from the heart.

When I was beginning my career as a professional artist, I knew I wanted to share my understanding of the human condition uniquely using the fully-nude human form, totally free of any accessories and context. At first this meant single nudes maxed out in their formats (often larger than life-size), then I evolved into multi-figure works on an even larger scale. I began to use music as one of my inspiration sources, delving into choral pieces and opera arias and portraying them with the nude. Intentionally incorporating music was a big step in becoming more of a story teller with my work, and it is something I will continue to explore.

From early childhood memories I have been fascinated by the human form. In college I almost deferred my design studies for an entire year so that I could finally take one figure drawing class at my university (thankfully I did not end up doing that!). And when I had my first-ever experience drawing the nude model as new student at the Angel Academy of Art in Florence, I knew my path was before me. 

And it is paramount to draw and paint the human figure from LIFE. The artist-model exchange has been happening unbroken for thousands of years (really think about that… thousands of years), and I am very sensitive to this precious and powerful tradition. The emotions we spoke about earlier are often birthed from this person-to-person exchange, this amazing dance whose bedrock is the beauty of humanity.