Oil Painting

It was an amazing thing to be accepted into the 2018 OPA National Exhibition in Steamboat Springs, CO. I couldn’t believe my eyes when the acceptance list came out and my name was on it!

Many years earlier in the Northlight Studio at the Ridgewood Art Institute a fellow artist Sue Barasi passed me a handwritten note on a scrap of paper. “What to do to get better” it read across the top. Sue was my favorite painter in the class. Her paintings were terrific, I wanted to paint just like her. Sue was so nice to me when I first came to the Wednesday and Thursday oil painting classes. I had been oil painting for a year on my own and had become frustrated at the lack of progress. Through a series of happenstances, I came to the Wednesday-Thursday John Osborne oil painting class at The Ridgewood Art Institute in Northern, NJ. A great little town with tremendous character. Ridgewood could have been the stage for the movie “It’s A Wonderful Life”.

I had very little knowledge of the fine art world, having been working for the previous 21 years in the New York City Fire Department and running my own sign company. I knew I loved art and paintings however I didn’t know how much I didn’t know. Sue was very kind and must have realized early on that I was passionate about getting better. During class breaks I would walk over to her easel and look at how she blended colors and marveled at her ability to interpret what she saw in front of her into pure beauty on her canvas. Sue’s note read “Join other art organizations like Greenwich Art Society (I think that’s near you), visit museums and look at more good art, take workshops and classes from your favorite artists and join Oil Painters of America! Most of all show up, paint, paint and paint.” I still have her note and pass along her sage advice to younger painters whenever I can.

I decided to overcome my fear of travel, mostly flying, and attend the OPA National Convention in Steamboat Springs. This was a big hurdle for me as I had decided after working for over one month at the devastating site of the World Trade Center Collapse I wouldn’t be boarding an airplane any time soon. After seventeen years the time had come to travel. My wife Diane encouraged me to attend and together we invited our mostly grown children to join us. We landed in Denver and drove the 4 hours to Steamboat taking in the beautiful vistas and the awe-inspiring Rockies.

When we got to Steamboat and settled into the beautiful Steamboat Grand Hotel I split from the group and looked for places to paint. I wanted to compete in the OPA Wet Paint Competition. I settled on a ranch just west of town and met two of the nicest people you can imagine. Mike and his wife Maureen owned a big cattle ranch just outside Steamboat. I asked for permission to paint on their property, and they said yes. I think I painted there for three days and got to know them a little. Mike was the president of the Colorado Cattleman’s Association and Maureen was a national Champion Skeet and Trap Shooter. Maureen owned and operated a trap shooting course across the street from where I was painting and I took the family there after I turned in my wet painting for the Wet Paint Competition. We drove around what was like an 18-hole golf course on golf carts fitted with racks to hold our shot guns in the back. When we got to a new station you would get set up and press a key fob which would release the clay into the air which you then would shoot at, each taking a turn at mostly missing. The surrounding mountains and fields were breathtakingly beautiful.

I attended classes and lectures all week and loved learning new things from new people. When the end of the day would come or sometimes between classes or lecture, I would try to meet with my family at the pool or wherever they were. I felt at times I was neglecting them due to all the running around and learning I was doing. However when we met up they would tell me of all the high adventure they had while I was gone. I was overjoyed to hear how much fun they were having. We were making lifelong memories and friends as well. The parties we attended during the evenings and dinners with other artists were some of the best times we’ve had.

The night of the big art opening at The Steamboat Art Museum we decided to get there early so we would be able to view all the paintings before the crowds got there and really try to take them in. I told my family “Let’s go to the opening early, then scoot out for a nice dinner together.” I didn’t plan on attending the awards ceremony since there was no reason for me to go and I knew I had not spent as much time with my family as I would have liked. We looked at the art and when the museum became very full the 7 of us slipped out onto Lincoln Avenue. We stood on the sidewalk in front of The Steamboat Art Museum and then decided to take a quick look at Wild Horse Gallery right across the street. I had been thru the gallery earlier in the week and wanted the gang to see the incredibly high caliber art there before we went to dinner. We walked in and I was delighted to see Mike and Maureen the ranchers I had met. They were looking at paintings too. I introduced them to my wife and family and we chatted up a storm. Richard Galusha the co-owner of the gallery walked by and the four of us began chatting with him. After a while Richard asked me what I was doing in Steamboat and I told him my art story. I had come because I got a painting in the show across the street and it was such an honor my entire family flew out to take it all in. I told him we had seen the show across the street and were now headed out to dinner. He looked at me funny and asked me ”what’s your name again?” After that he walked to the back of the gallery opened a desk drawer and took a piece of paper out and read it. He then walked back up to our group and looked me in the eye and said “If I was you I’d go to the awards ceremony” I was shocked to say the least. I couldn’t believe what he had said and that we now had to go to the awards ceremony. We went and I won an Award of Excellence in the Wet Paint Competition. That was one of the best feelings I’ve had, to be honored with an award and be on stage with great artists I looked up to. I never expected that.

I’ve often thought about my transition from firefighting to art and have to say it’s been a great one with a lot of similarities. During my years running in and out of burning buildings and living for 24 hours at a time with fellow fire fighters we formed tight friendships that have lasted many, many years. There was something very special about what we did back then. Together as a group we were able to accomplish great things. Although it’s not likely a building or ceiling will fall on my head while I’m painting, I have a new family of friends I can count on who have helped me along on this wonderful new journey. 

There are several ways to create more depth and a feeling of 3-D space in your paintings. Some of these include, atmosphere perspective, softening edges and flattening shapes as they recede and more especially, using the principle of linear perspective. I have students in my college classes who tend to shy away from linear perspective. I admit, perspective can be a daunting, complex principle, but it doesn’t have to be. To create more depth in my paintings I begin with a simple, one-point perspective grid before I paint in my subject matter by following three basic steps:

1. Find my horizon line (HL) or “eye-level”.

2. Locate my vanishing point (VP) or “station point”. This is where the viewer would be viewing the scene from.

3. All parallel lines go to the same vanishing point. Lines above the horizon line will appear to go down to the V.P. Lines below the horizon line will appear to go up to the V.P

If you are working from a photograph, you can draw lines directly on the photo to find the VP and HL. Follow the lines that would be parallel to each other in real space such as the tops and bottoms of all the windows on the side of the buildings. In this example, the buildings are all lined up and parallel to each other.  The crossing point of all these lines show where the HL and VP are located.

A high horizon line will give your scene a more “birds-eye” view as if the viewer is up in the sky, looking out the window of a tall building or a hillside.

To locate your HL and VP on location, imagine a laser beam shooting out of your eye directly in front of you with your head level, not looking up or down, just straight ahead. Where that laser beam would strike on the side of a hill, rock, bush, tree, building etc., is the location of your horizon line or eye level. If you sit down, your HL will lower. If you stand up, your HL will be higher. Your VP will be your line of site or your station point, directly towards the HL. Another way to find your HL and VP on location is to hold out one of your long brushes like you’re looking down the barrel of a gun with one eye closed, straight ahead and level. Where the end point of your brush appears to touch what is in front of you, that is your HL and VP.

When I begin my painting, I first cover the entire canvas with a mixture of one color and a basic medium such as Liquin. I then lift out or subtract the paint where I want my lines and marks. You can use the back end of your brush to make scratch marks, use a Q-tip or a clean brush to lift out lines and marks. Locate and draw in your horizon line or eye level. Then locate your VP, or your station point. Next, with a straight edge (you don’t need a straight edge but it’s helpful) draw lines out from the VP in a radial fashion. Draw a bunch of lines so it looks like a big spider with many straight legs coming out of your VP. At this point, your grid and painting will already have a sense of depth.  Begin drawing and/or massing in the shapes on top of this grid.
(See diagrams below. Also see my demo video link at the end of this article).

You can also use the spider-like grid lines in your landscape paintings to help you place rocks, pathways, streams, trees, and clouds, etc., giving your painting more depth and interest. 

In this drawing taken from the book “Carlson’s Guide to Landscape Painting” (see below), John Carlson shows how a one-point perspective grid can be helpful to accurately lay-in cloud forms giving the sky a more vaulted and spacial effect. The clouds can be more accurately placed within the perceptive grid as they move into the distance showing a more natural and correct size relationship as the clouds appear to compress and diminish in the distance. 

Understanding these 3 basic principles will allow you to create more depth and a feeling of space in your paintings. You become the director of your own show in painted form! You get to decide the viewer’s location, VP or station point, the “camera” angle, if it’s a high or low horizon, etc. Give the one-point perspective grid a try and let me know what you think!

Note: Rob Adamson will be teaching a 4-Day workshop at the Scottsdale Artists’ School in May of 2024 using these principles on linear perspective. For details: https://www.scottsdaleartschool.org/events/153/

For a full video demonstration watch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LrdJNgX9Z3Y
For a shorter timelapse version of a similar scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0y4DRDHwnc

One thing is certain; the more I teach, the more I learn.  There are so many technical lessons: lessons about values, lessons about color, lessons about edges, lessons about composition, lessons about materials.  We need to master all these skills and train our eyes to see, calculate, and arrange the elements of our painting in order to create a good work. 

But there are a few lessons that fall into none of these categories. I have come to believe they may be the most important lessons of all.  These are more ephemeral lessons that help us create the paintings that come from our hearts.  Lessons that keep the joy of learning alive and help us to follow our hearts.

1.  The first, and most important lesson, is to allow ourselves to fall in love with the beauty around us.  Here I’m paraphrasing several well-known artists: Dan Gerhartz OPAM, Kathie Odom OPA, and the late Richard Schmid.  I heartily agree.  The first workshop I took, about 5-6 years ago, was from Michelle Dunaway at The Barn in Putney, VT. One of the first things Michelle said, quoting her mentor, Richard Schmid, was this “No camera ever fell in love with its subject, but every artist does”.  I remember thinking, oh my gosh, I’ve always felt this way, but thought maybe I was crazy!  Certainly I’d never heard another artist say anything like this. Immediately I knew I was in the right place.  

Our very best works are those created when the subject moved us deeply, spoke to our souls, and created a sense of wonder and awe within us.  I’ve often been told, “I don’t see what you see!”  But this is teachable.  What I cannot teach is how to fall in love with your subject.  That has to come from within.  When you become so motivated by the scene in front of you, whether it’s a portrait, landscape, or still life, you’re hooked!  When the play of light across the scene dazzles your eye and engages your mind, you have already begun a fine painting, whether or not you even have a canvas in front of you.  Beauty is the job of the artist – finding it, appreciating it, and presenting it to the world so that they can see it, too.  I’ve always considered this a sacred trust, the special gift God has given artists that keeps us motivated and on fire.

2.  The second most important lesson is self-confidence mixed with a healthy dose of humility. Now this one is tough, because it takes so much work on the part of the student to develop the skills and the eye to trust their instincts.  Trust me on this one, I’m still learning.  But the more we paint, the more we surround ourselves with people who desire our success and don’t hesitate to point out areas where we are succeeding, the faster we can go down this path.  I think a lot us have that nasty little voice in our heads telling us how far short we are falling, and if we listen, we wind up ruining a shocking number of paintings that had real potential.  I’m always telling my students, we are all beginners!  Every one of us started out as a beginner, even the very best artists, so don’t be too hard on yourself.  Some will stay the course, some won’t.  Life may have other ideas for you, and that’s fine.  But for those of you who want to continue to pursue excellence in art, stay away from those who are way too good at finding fault.  The world is full of them.  It’s a much faster learning curve to play from your strengths rather than always focusing on your weaknesses.  I’m not talking about Pollyanna friends who only tell you what they think you want to hear, I’m speaking of the true friend who recognizes your gift.  We all need encouragement and honest criticism.  Here’s another way of putting it:  if you teach, do you teach your students to paint like you, or is your goal to give them the skills to paint like themselves?  We all have an artistic voice; it’s as natural as speaking or hand writing, but if the student’s goal is to learn to paint like the instructor, that voice is going to be hard to find.  Choose an instructor who will be able to help you become the best artist you can be.

3.  Which leads me to the third most important lesson: learn to value yourself and your art.  You have a gift, you have a voice, and you’re learning the skills.  Now it’s time to value your art and respect it.  You’re giving so much of your heart, soul, skills, and time to your art, don’t demean it.  If you’re not sure about the value of your work, ask someone you trust to help you evaluate your work.  Sometimes we can’t see it for ourselves.  

We artists are tender souls!  We are so easily beaten up by shows that pass us by.  This is a good thing in many ways.  It raises the bar for us, and teaches us not to take ourselves too seriously.  Also, if we’re smart, we’ll go through the accepted works and carefully (and honestly!) look at the qualities that made one work more “juryable” than another.  And there’s plenty more blank canvases waiting for you…..  The best painting any of us has ever done is…the next one.

4.  And finally, the last most important lesson is this: never forsake the love of learning and following your heart!  Challenge yourself – there’s always more to learn, more to see, more ways to see, and more ways to paint.  

I’m fascinated by artists who experiment and really push the envelope.  Quang Ho OPAM is a great example.  When talking about a trip to the mountains of West Virginia in the fall, he said he pulled over to the side of the road, took out his painting equipment, and started hiking.  Before long, he was so overwhelmed by the beauty of the forest he put away his paints, and just continued to hike, soaking up the experience of being enveloped by the amazing world he was experiencing.  Instead of painting for two weeks, he took the opportunity to immerse himself in the beauty that surrounded him.  Within a year, he was creating some of the most dynamic, original, and beautiful paintings of his career.  It’s so exciting to see what others are creating.  It’s a big, beautiful world out there, full of so many interesting things and people who have much to teach us.  

Last summer I spent all my time working on one project, “Painting the Faces of Chautauqua”.  I painted as many portraits as I could of the people who live in our little farm and winery community.  It was such an eye opener for me!  Some of the most interesting people were the farmers and laborers – no one checked their mascara or lipstick, I can tell you!  But it was such an enriching experience, on both sides of the easel.  I gave myself a 3 hour limit per painting.  It was encouraging to see my work improve over the summer.  In the end I painted 44 portraits, and I had the joy of getting to know all these wonderful people!  Just getting to paint a bald head was a treat, to see the skin without muscle beneath it, stretched over the skull: I was in heaven.  And, since they were not paying me, they had no input!  To be fair, only one person asked me to change anything.  Most everyone thanked me profusely for opening their eyes to the world of art.  In the fall we had a reception open to the community to view the portraits.  It was packed!  Everyone had a good time finding themselves and their friends “in paint”.  

You just never know where things will take you if you follow your heart, so don’t be afraid to take up a challenge. It could change your life.

Every artist’s journey is different. There is no one magic formula or specific path to a successful art career. The one thing I have found on my journey is that sometimes you just have to be willing to take a risk and just do things that may not seem comfortable or that you may not feel you’re ready for. There have been many opportunities that have come along throughout my art career, many of which I was very hesitant to pursue. I think most of us have that nagging little voice of doubt whispering in our ear… ”You’re not good enough,” “You can’t do that,” and so on. It’s hard to silence that little voice, but now, in hindsight and with apologies to Nike, my mantra has become “just do it”. Ignore that voice of doubt. Taking the risk and pursuing some of the opportunities presented to me has led to a chain reaction of even more opportunities over the years. I could never have dreamed where my career would take me as a result. Here’s the story of my journey beginning in 1996 when I made the decision to get back to painting and be a full time artist.

After taking several workshops in the late 1990s and early 2000s, including some plein air workshops, and with the encouragement of several of the artists I studied with, I began looking for opportunities to “get my work out there”. I had fallen in love with plein air painting. I soon learned about plein air competitions, as well as juried exhibitions and national art organizations for painters. I wasn’t sure that my work was worthy yet, but decided to take the risk and first, submit applications to join the Oil Painters of America (OPA) in 2001 and American Impressionist Society (AIS) in 2005. To my surprise I was accepted into both organizations! I submitted work into both organizations’ juried exhibitions, and again, to my great surprise, had a painting accepted into the AIS juried exhibition in 2005. 

Shortly after that acceptance, I had an opportunity to place an ad in what was the original Plein Air Magazine in 2005. I was hesitant about investing in national advertising because my finances were so limited, but again, decided to take the risk and see what would happen. To my great surprise, I received a call from the Montgomery Museum of Fine Art (Alabama) and was invited to take part in their biennial art auction to be held in 2006. The board member contacted me because of that ad! That was a risk that paid off with a huge reward. I participated in every biennial auction at the museum until they were discontinued in 2018, and have many loyal collectors there as a result.

2006 was a pivotal year in my career. I began submitting to juried plein air competitions and was accepted into the Carmel Art Festival (Carmel, California) for the first time in 2006 and for several years after. That led to an invitation to be represented by a gallery in Carmel in 2010. Also in 2006, I was accepted into a major national plein air organization (sadly, no longer in existence). Next came an invitation to become a Signature member of Plein Air Artists Colorado (PAAC). My involvement with PAAC ranged from entering their exhibitions, to helping with organizing aspects of their exhibitions, and eventually serving as a board member. The experience I gained was priceless and would be extremely helpful later in my career. 

I was accepted into an OPA regional exhibition in 2007 in Topeka, Kansas, which resulted in the host gallery asking to represent me and my work. This was my first major gallery representation and would not have happened if I hadn’t taken that risk and entered that show.

I continued entering OPA shows and finally, in 2012, on my 13^th try, was accepted into my first OPA National Juried Exhibition. It was such a thrill and another huge confidence booster. Seeing my painting hanging with the work of so many incredible artists who I admired greatly was unreal. Amazingly, my accepted painting was called Faith, Strength and Perseverance. Along with taking risks, I learned to never give up. That’s another, entirely different subject, one which I wrote about in a blog post right after my acceptance, which you can read here: https://www.debrajoygroesser.com/blog/41888/faith-strength-and-perseverance   Speaking of not giving up, after all these years, I was thrilled to finally earn my Signature status with OPA just two years ago!

Throughout this time, I was accepted in several of the American Impressionist Society exhibitions. I met the AIS founder, Charlotte Dickinson, and her husband, TR, while attending one of these exhibitions. As I was speaking with TR, who was sitting in a chair at the gallery, he began coughing. He had difficulty walking so I offered to get him some water. That one interaction led to a phone call a year or so later in which TR asked if I would consider serving as the president of AIS. TR said that he never took my card, never wrote down my name, but he never forgot the kindness I had shown him. I was completely shocked. Me?? What?? Due to my commitment on the Plein Air Artists Colorado board, I told TR that I couldn’t accept his invitation. He asked me to “sleep on it” and he would call me the next day. When my husband came home I told him about the call. He said, “You said yes, right?” When I told him no, he said “Of course, you have to do this! How many people get an opportunity like this to make a huge difference? And I’ll support you every step of the way.” There’s that word “OPPORTUNITY” again! This was probably the most terrifying and consequential decision of my career. I wasn’t sure I was up to the task (that little voice in my ear again!) and didn’t know how I would juggle my art career with such a huge responsibility. It could be a huge risk. That was in early 2013. I said yes. I never expected what a joy and a blessing this would turn out to be. In 2015 my husband and I were asked to take over running the organization from the Dickinsons. It has truly been the honor of a lifetime. Not only has it led to countless opportunities in my own career, but more importantly, just as OPA also does, knowing that the work we do is helping to support so many artists on their journey is incredibly gratifying. The lifelong friendships made through our involvement are priceless. I’ve learned so much and have gained such a great appreciation for the leaders of OPA and other arts organizations, and all the hard work involved. 

Among the avalanche of other opportunities in my career came invitations to teach, be interviewed on podcasts, film an instructional video, give demos, art talks and so much more. It’s extremely gratifying to be able to help and inspire other artists, in fact at this point in my career, it’s what I enjoy the most and what I’m most grateful for. 

I often reflect on what would have happened with my art career and how much I would have missed out on had I given in to that nagging little voice saying “you’re not good enough” and “you can’t do this”.  I’ve learned the risks are so worth the possible rewards. Sometimes it doesn’t work out and that’s okay too. Often it will lead you to wonderful, unexpected places. When those opportunities come along, take the risk. The thing is, you will never know what rewards may lie ahead unless you try. Just do it…

I remember a conversation with Richard Carroll, the founder of Florida’s Forgotten Coast Plein Air, before my first time attending in 2010. He stressed that the event’s mission was to document an area’s changing landscape between Mexico Beach and Alligator Point. That year and each one that followed did, in fact, offer an incredible variety and evolving subject matter. Many things contributed, particularly the loss of the one booming oyster industry when many businesses, buildings, and boats fell into disrepair. But none of the changes were as devastating as Hurricane Michael’s path of destruction in 2018. 

The eye of the hurricane completely flattened the town of Mexico Beach and significantly damaged areas to the west, east, and north of it. There was only debris and a 40-foot drop down to the sea floor where the main road, beach, homes, and sand dunes had once been. Suddenly, overnight, the paintings created there by so many of us and for so long were more meaningful than ever before. Now, many years later, it is hard to remember exactly where some of those pieces were painted. Nothing looks like it once did. Gratefully, the area is mending, but most paintings before 2018 contain land masses and landmarks forever gone.

Of course, for every Hurricane Michael, hundreds more disasters have removed complete towns and altered the face of natural areas. I was teaching a workshop in Glacier National Park at the Historic Wheeler Cabin just one day before an enormous fire burned most of the site. Floods here in Tennessee have completely rerouted a nearby river where I used to take my classes to paint every fall. A few months after painting in Waterton Lakes, a fire consumed the exact area where I had been. These accounts, along with earthquakes and a volcano eruption, only begin to scratch the surface of how plein air painters document global changes. And these are only those that relate to climate, not to mention wars and regions in political strife. Painting trips like the one to Peru last August and to Ukraine in 2018 could not be on this year’s calendar.

Unless you live under a rock, you have undoubtedly been following the recent news from Hawaii, particularly Maui and historic Lahaina. Memories of the many times I have had the privilege of participating in the Maui Plein Air Invitational are on my mind. When I paint somewhere so special, I feel a bit of it becomes part of me. It is as if I have connected with it and had an intimate and private conversation. Just like Mexico Beach, Maui is that way for me. I do not intend to sensationalize this tragedy or gain attention from it. I am incredibly grateful to have experienced Maui the way it was. And, also like Mexico Beach, Florida, and Paradise, California, it will regrow and mend as time continues. No, it won’t be the same. But it will be something new to begin documenting once again.