Anna Rose Bain OPA

If you’re an artist, you’ve probably considered that your work, once it’s “out there” for the world to see, has the power to impact people in some way. It could elicit any number of responses, from admiration, to nostalgia—or on the opposite spectrum, to disgust, or shock. Quite possibly—because we are bombarded with images every day—it might not elicit a response at all.  Either way, there’s always some risk involved.  It takes courage and vulnerability to put your art before the public eye.  Get a big enough audience and you might even be called an “influencer” or a “culture shaper”. But have you considered that, with any audience large or small, this also means you are a leader?

Last week I was invited by my Crossfit gym owner to join him and the other coaches for a monthly professional development meeting. Now, I am not a coach, rather, I provide services to my gym in the form of photography, video/video editing, and design work. I love being part of this team, but I still feel a bit out of place at “coaches” meetings. As an artist, what I know about leadership has evolved organically over the years (a.k.a. I’ve read a lot of Brene Brown books). I’ve never received formal leadership training, so I was intrigued when my gym owner said, “You might get something out of this”. 

He was right. We watched a video where someone was analyzing a coach teaching a class, and he broke it down into technical terms as to what methods this coach was using to effectively train and teach athletes proper form. I found myself engaged, not just because I’m also a CrossFitter, but because my brain immediately went to ways I could implement these coaching techniques in teaching art, or in my interactions with other artists. Whether you’re in a gym setting or a workshop setting, there are going to be people who don’t want to listen to you, or those who cherry pick some of what you have to say while leaving the rest. And there will be some who require you to say the same thing ten times over but in ten different ways before it clicks for them. It’s important to learn how to communicate effectively with people so you can actually reach them.

I’ve only recently come to terms with the realization that I am a leader in the art world. For better or for worse, whether I like it or not, I have a part to play and I am influencing someone. My younger self brushed this off by saying, “I’m just keeping up with the times on social media”, or “I’m just doing what I love”, “making art for art‘s sake”, etc.  But the truth is, most of us can’t possibly live in a bubble where our life and work don’t affect someone else.  If our work is out there, we are influencers. We are above and beyond the norm. There’s no minimum or maximum age, no minimum audience for being a leader, and as artists, our leadership roles are especially unique and necessary. 

But not everyone who leads is a good leader. It takes work, and a servant’s heart.  I’ll name a few of the things I’ve learned that make up a great leader (of course I offer this list through the lens of being an artist but it can certainly apply to other aspects of life).

Belief in purpose.  As artists, we write an “Artist’s Statement” to communicate our “why”. The great thing about a statement is that it forces you to examine your goals, motivations, and process, and condense it into a few brief sentences. There has to be a “why” behind everything we do and every choice we make. If we truly believe in our “why,” and are confident in the direction we are going, we are setting ourselves up for becoming good leaders in our field. If writing an artist’s statement is daunting to you, don’t worry. It can change and evolve with you as your work evolves. Think of the core values you hold most dear, and how those manifest themselves in your work. Or look at your body of work and try to find the common thread that ties them all together. It won’t be too hard to see what really matters to you.

Early on I had to come to terms with the moral question of painting nudes and including them in my portfolio. I grew up in a very conservative environment, and to this day, I still have acquaintances from home who won’t talk to me because they think I’ve sold my soul to the devil. It’s a subject that raises a lot of different questions, and I realize that if I’m going to paint nudes, I need a standpoint on it, and once that’s been established, I need to be able to defend and honor that standpoint. 

One way to uphold your belief and purpose is by aligning yourself with arts organizations that support your values. Two of the esteemed groups I’ve been a part of for quite a few years now, are the Portrait Society of America, and Oil Painters of America. Both are non-profits with the aim of furthering representational art and art education. I share a core value with them: the pursuit of excellence. This commonality creates a fertile garden for artistic growth, both on their end and mine.

Authenticity is important because your worldview, or belief in purpose as described above, are dependent on this. It doesn’t make sense to believe one thing while making art that goes against that, just so you can make a buck, or get in with the cool kids. Also, don’t be the person who will advertise for any company as long as you get something free out of it. Be the real deal. Advocate for causes you actually believe in. I am generous with my social media posts about art supply manufacturers, but I only post about the ones I actually use and love.

Humility.  Admit when you’re wrong or you don’t know. When I teach, I sometimes get asked technical questions about the chemistry and lightfastness of the paint brands I’m using. Quite often I have to say, “I don’t know the answer to that,” but I’ll try and point my students in the right direction for finding the answer themselves.

Have a servant’s heart. Give of your time and talents. Don’t be entitled, and don’t get “too big for your britches”. We all started somewhere; we are all still learning. I find artists who are aloof and unapproachable, with their enormous egos taking up all the space in the room, to be abhorrent. Don’t be like that!

Master the basics and continue practicing them; never stop learning. Basketball star Kobe Bryant was known for doing the most basic drills in order to stay at the top of his game. Every day he shot 700-1000 hoops and did 20 minutes of dribbling. For artists this might be similar to sketching every day, doing color charts, or copying masterworks. This is something I need to work on; too often I think my studio work is more important and I don’t have time to go back to the basics. But the basics are everything. 

Foster community. This involves a combination of all the above listed things. When you are in community, you allow yourself to grow and learn from others. They don’t have to be other artists. A wise friend once told me, “I learn from everyone I meet. It doesn’t matter who they are or what they do—everyone has something to bring to the table.” That kind of humility opens the door for better listening, more empathy, and greater understanding. It also allows for a bigger melting pot of ideas to inspire creativity and growth as an artist. 

There are many practical ways we can foster community in the art world. We can host open studios, attend art openings and events, have regular critique sessions, or attend life drawing and plein air sessions to name a few. 

Know your worth, and stay confident.  One pill that’s been hard to swallow is the realization that as a leader, I will make enemies. No, not the kind where you duke it out in a fist fight, although sometimes I feel like that would be easier.  But, you might get slandered. You might get talked about behind your back. You might get shunned or blacklisted. There will be people who not only disagree with you, but actually hate you.

It’s so important to know who you are and to keep in mind that negative reactions reflect more on the other person’s character than yours. I was shunned in college by some of the other art majors. I could only speculate as to why, but I suspect they were envious. 

My emergence to the art scene coincided with the onslaught of social media.  There has been this continuous question of: how much do I share about my political views and should that tie in to my art? Some would argue that as an “influencer”, I ought to use my platform for that. Others would say that I should “stick to the art.” Whether or not this is true for you, what I realized for myself was that real change only happens in settings where people feel safe and respected. Intimate conversations, friendships that are built on trust – that’s where change happens, not by blanket statements made on social media. Unfortunately, I had to learn this the hard way. I’ve burned some bridges. I hope that, moving forward, I can learn from my mistakes and make wiser choices.

Since then, I’ve gone through other experiences, such as getting negative feedback or being attacked by internet trolls (sometimes people I actually know which is way worse…). These experiences can sometimes feel like a test to see whether or not I will cave in to the lies that I am inadequate, unworthy, or a fraud. When bad things happen to you (or bad paintings, ha!), hold your head high, know your worth, and carry on. Don’t let them paralyze you from continuing your work and sharing it with the world. 

As the reader you might be thinking, “You are not making a very good case for putting yourself out there”.  Sorry…not sorry.  If you’re an artist and you truly feel that it’s your vocation, then you’ll have to come to terms with this, like I did. Thankfully, it doesn’t all happen at once. Little by little, you learn what leadership looks like for you and your own circle of influence. You may be lucky enough to be born with natural confidence, but if you’re like most of us, leadership is a skill that takes time and experience to develop. And that’s okay! Just know that if you are being true to your values and being authentic, remaining humble and embracing community… your art and life will become part of something bigger, and you are going to make a positive difference in someone’s life. 

I am a professional artist, but what some people don’t know about me is that I have played piano since I was eight years old. I was classically trained all the way through college, with a major in art and a minor in music. I took all the music classes: ​ ​ theory, aural skills, counterpoint. I even took voice lessons and sang in ​the ​choir. I loved music with a passion that rivaled my love for art… it was that big a part of my life.

But there came a point when I had to choose, because I couldn’t devote 100% of my time to both. These art forms each demand much more of a person when it comes to choosing a career path. I chose painting, and the music gradually diminished in my life.

Recently, however, I’ve returned to playing piano once in a while just for fun. Since I’ve played some of the same stuff over and over for the last 15 years, I decided to order some new sheet music to freshen up my repertoire.

At first I was excited to play the new material, but I quickly realized that the music was just “ok”. Honestly, I got rather bored playing these lovely but cliche arrangements of popular songs.

This made me realize that I have changed. I’m not a student anymore, but a person who is capable of taking something and making it my own. And as a recovering rule-follower, it has taken me years to realize that I can do this. The possibilities are limitless.

Now I know why my high school piano teacher was pushing the “Fake Books” on me, but I never wanted to try them. Now I know why jazz musicians can really let loose, and why improv performers can take an ordinary tune and turn it into something amazing.

What does this have to do with art? Well, as with the music, I am arriving at a similar place in my painting. One can spend a lifetime playing scales or painting color charts, and working solely on technique, but at some point, we have to break away and start becoming artists. We have permission to use our imagination and just roll with it. Let the art carry us on an unexpected journey. Those of us who struggle with perfectionism will constantly hear voices in our heads telling us to play it safe, and do things the comfortable or traditional way. Follow the “rules” because they are time-tested.

But that is ridiculous! I have the vocabulary, and I’ve had it for years-both as an artist and a musician. Why did chord charts always scare me? Because it meant I had to take something and be “original” with it! Why does breaking away from classical art scare me? Because it means I am forging new territory and I have to own it.

I’ve been having conversations with other artists about ways that we can break away from traditional molds. Here are a few ideas:
​

• ​Glaze an area down to improve the value structure and overall design.
• Eliminate or add elements either from another reference source or from your imagination.
• Do an entire painting in only one color family.
• Choose unusual subject matter (I am currently starting a series on people working out at the gym!).
• Go through stacks of old studies and paintings and analyze why they worked or didn’t.
• Drastically change some of them to see if your problem solving skills have improved since you first painted them.

The list goes on and on. I would love to hear what you have to say — how are you successfully “breaking the rules” in your art?

The first couple of weeks were okay, right? In fact, you probably said, “Hey, I’m an artist! My life hasn’t changed that much, in fact, it’s better now that I don’t have to put on pants or go anywhere!” You painted every day in an immaculately organized studio. Then about a month in, you started feeling a bit…off, but you wanted to stay active and engaged, so maybe you signed up for a Zoom workshop or began watching some of the instructional videos being offered by your favorite artists. A couple weeks later, the Zoom calls may have started to feel burdensome and a far cry from the “real thing.” Another month went by, and by then, you probably had your fair share of Netflix binging, wine and chocolate, and sleeping in till noon. Perhaps, the fear started creeping into your mind that you might not be okay if you can’t display your work in exhibitions, and if collectors don’t start buying art again. How will you pay the rent, or buy more art supplies? And now you’re finally admitting, “I just don’t feel like painting.” If this describes you, at least in part, you are not alone!  So… during this time of uncertainty, how are we artists supposed to get out of this funk?

This incredibly strange season of quarantine and social distancing isn’t the first time in my life that I’ve felt unmotivated to paint. I’ve been through two pregnancies, where my body (and mind) was giving 110% to growing another human being. I had to fight for every shred of inspiration that I could muster. And while I’m normally a very motivated person, it’s impossible for anyone to be “on” for 24/7. However, if you’re like me and you hate the thought of wasting time, you can use those uninspired moments to engage in something besides painting. Specifically, you can use that time to start crafting YOUR STORY.

Hold on, before you roll your eyes and say “I thought this was an art blog”, give me a chance to explain.

Recently I listened to an audiobook called “Stories That Stick,” by Kindra Hall. The book is all about crafting stories that engage your audience and motivate them to buy your product, subscribe to your channel, etc. etc. (you fill in the blank). While the book was targeting entrepreneurs, business professionals, marketing managers, and team leaders, I found that all of it was applicable to us—small business owners (artists) who paint for a living and have to market our own work and ourselves. 

In “Stories That Stick,” Hall describes why storytelling is the most powerful and effective marketing tool we have, and why we should all be using it. First, it puts us on the fast track to trust. A good story can quickly “bridge the gap” between us and our audience and help us relate in some way. Second, stories are far more memorable than a mission statement, description of your product, or outline about your process. Stories have the power to leave a lasting impression on your clients and collectors. Third, a great story wins out over gimmicks every time. That’s great news for us artists, because guess what? You don’t have photograph yourself suggestively standing half naked in the studio with your paintings! Just tell your story, and that will resonate more with your audience than any of those Instagram posers ever could.

Hall says there are four necessary elements to crafting a great story: identifiable characters, authentic emotion, a significant moment, and specific details. Most often, we artists can use ourselves as the identifiable character. For example, I recently posted this story on my Instagram page, along with a recently completed painting of a scene from a Florentine courtyard.

Here’s what I wrote: When I spent the summer as a 21-year-old in Florence to study figure painting, I knew I would deal with culture shock, but I couldn’t have prepared myself for just how rough of a transition it would be.
My luggage was lost for a week. Yes… a whole week. I couldn’t really afford to buy new clothes, but my twin sister, who was working three jobs that summer, wired me money to keep me afloat. I had to walk everywhere, including to class, because if I rode the bus I would constantly get accosted by men. I finally figured out that it was my blue eyes that made them crazy, so I bought some sunglasses. I was all alone and didn’t speak Italian. Yet every day, I found solace in drawing, especially when I could sit in a safe haven like the Boboli gardens, or a palace courtyard like this one in the Palazzo Medici-Riccardi, away from the busy streets. Not all of my memories of Florence are good, but the strongest and best memory is that feeling of purpose when I immersed myself in the art. I do love Italy and can’t wait to go back.  ❤️

Your stories certainly don’t have to be as dramatic as this one. And they don’t even have to be art-related, as long as they help make the point you are trying to make. In my story, I included the four important elements: identifiable character (me), authentic emotion (culture shock), significant moment (finding a safe haven), and specific details (lost luggage, sunglasses on the bus, etc.).

Hall also goes into great detail about the four different types of stories that each of us can tell: the value story, the founder story, the purpose story, and the customer story.  To find out more about what these are and how to start crafting your own, I highly recommend you check out this book for yourself. You’ll find yourself recalling all kinds of stories you may have forgotten, that could be valuable in marketing yourself and your work.

Something I did during my own quarantine funk was compile a slideshow video about my art journey for YouTube. You can check it out here. I thought this project was silly and that no one would really care to watch 34 minutes of embarrassing childhood and early career artwork, but I included a lot of entertaining stories in my narration. The response to this video has been incredible, and I’m so touched by how many people have found it inspiring. While you certainly don’t have to spend hours putting together a slideshow, you’ll be amazed at how much people will respond to your social media posts, newsletters, and marketing campaigns if you include a story!

I hope this has inspired you to start digging a little bit. Sift through old photos, remember your “firsts” (first date, first car, first painting you were truly happy with… etc.), and see how you can bridge the gap between yourself and your potential collectors, students, and patrons. And then—tell your story!

• ​Glaze an area down to improve the value structure and overall design.
• Eliminate or add elements either from another reference source or from your imagination.
• Do an entire painting in only one color family.
• Choose unusual subject matter (I am currently starting a series on people
  working out at the gym!).
• Go through stacks of old studies and paintings and analyze why they worked or didn't.
• Drastically change some of them to see if your problem solving skills have improved since you first painted them.

The list goes on and on but I’d love to hear what you have to say about this. How are you successfully ​"breaking the rules" in your art?