As a graduate fresh out of college, what are you expected to do? Get a job. Harder said than done, right? And what’s even harder—a grad art student holding her diploma and wondering what the heck she was supposed to do next in life.Thus how I found myself the summer of 2011—living in a new state with my husband and somehow expected to do something with my degree. I knew that by glancing at my portfolio I was nowhere near “making a living” off of art. So for the next several years (and by the grace of my benevolent husband—incredible art supporter and breadwinner of the family), I built my portfolio one image at a time. The conversations with people would typically go:Friend: “Oh, you’re an artist? What do you do?”Me: “Well, I’m currently building my portfolio…”…is what I said for at least 4 years. Riveting, right? Practice makes perfection. A looooooooot of practice.As much as I worked on my portfolio, I knew I was still missing out on critical knowledge that I had been unable to cull from undergrad. Basic knowledge like functioning as a working artist in the professional world, or advanced techniques in the mediums like oil and watercolors. (I kid you not…taught myself watercolors through trial and error. I scare myself thinking of all the terrible habits I’ve formed without proper training.) Not to fault undergrad—there is only so much time in college to teach the everything, and some things just get missed. As a fantasy illustrator, I wasn’t sure what to pursue next. I knew I wasn’t at the level to illustrate professionally, and I wasn’t sure if grad school was worth the money, (plus at the time we were moving so frequently that I couldn’t settle on a program before we’d move again.) I was very much on my own. The little art community I had tended to be a few friends who dabbled in art, but most of whom were not pursuing it professionally. I worked alone mostly—practicing and teaching myself--half of the time not knowing what I was doing.
It wasn’t until sometime around 2013 that I discovered the Illustration Master Course. I had never heard of anything like it. One hundred aspiring and professional illustrators convene at Amherst College for one week of guidance and tutelage by some of the top world-renowned fantasy artists. One week to work in-studio with these professional artists; to watch them paint and pepper them with all the questions you’ve ever had about technique, application, and life as a working artist, and then directly apply what you’ve learned to your own painting right there in the studio. The best way to learn is to observe another artist directly—something I didn’t have since undergrad. I knew that this was one program I had to do, and registered for the program in Fall 2015.Eight months later, on the eve of my departure for IMC, I found myself stuffing art supplies into my suitcase and figuring out how to fit three large artboards in a protective portfolio case. All those years of waiting led up to this week, and suddenly I realized how I didn’t know jack squat about what I was doing. Were my skills good enough? Am I artistically ready for the information that will be thrown my way, or will it be wasted? The last several years I spent running on artistic fumes, and I was scraping the bottom of my creative well. And if I wasn’t already feeling nervous enough, I was conveniently experiencing one of the biggest art blocks I’ve had. Perfect. Just in time for my blank sheet of paper to be critiqued by Boris Vallejo. Those nightmares of standing naked in front of a crowd never felt any realer than that moment. But at the same time, I felt a kind of wonder—a kind of magic beginning to brew in the air. The excited chatter from other students online spun wonderful tales of IMCs long past. Of glorious memories and of fabled artists to tread those sacred halls. As I hefted my luggage to the airport, I felt much like Mister Potter as he embarked to Hogwarts for the first time.
When I greeted my peers on the beautiful grounds of Amherst College, a certain magic began to fill the air. Artists—like me—interested in the subjects I’m interested. Griping about the struggles of watercolors, and squealing over the latest and greatest pen tablets. For the first time, I could talk with a fellow artist about the best way to paint a dragon, or the pros and cons of pursuing web comics. And that wasn’t even the first day! I went to bed feeling excited, though experience has taught be to be wary and still remained doubtful that things could get much better than that.I’ve never been more wrong in my life.
IMC completely took me by storm. From the moment I stepped into Fayerweather Hall, I was swept up into a world that I never knew existed. All kinds of artists and illustrators working on their projects--oil painters, Photoshop wizards, gauche gurus--with a diversity of inspirations and stories in their heads. All with different but relatable artistic journeys.
And then of course there was the faculty (or should I say Headmasters?) People whom you’ve read about, awed over, and whose art you’ve totally fangirled over—right THERE. In the flesh! Actual people who you come to find out are also humans too who joke, smile, and enjoy a meal with you in the dining area. Real people who also possess the impossible magic of raising up imaginative worlds from a humble sheet of hotpress watercolor paper. Truly, these people are wizards in their own right.
Every day was a force of nature. The amount of information and inspiration was so overwhelming—like going to take a sip from a water fountain and getting a firehose in the face instead. Value, composition, color, movement, mediums, lighting, reference, and all kinds of valuable artistic knowledge kept coursing our way. We’d bounce from lectures on value and composition, to an oil painting demo by the talented Greg Manchess.
And somewhere in the midst of it, we found time to apply some of our newfound knowledge to our own masterpieces…
Let’s just say it’s a work in progress…Before we knew it, Sunday was upon us. Time to pack up, sign sketch books, and get one last hug in before saying sayonara.
I can say in full confidence that this was one of the most memorable weeks of my life. It exceeded my expectations in every way, and I can’t say that about everything. There was a mixture of sadness and excitement as we all parted ways—partly wishing to remain in the creative environment forever, but also looking forward to returning to our own studios to make spread some magic into our own corners of the world. I leave feeling refreshed, inspired, and at home in my new-found art family. Once a part of IMC, always a part of IMC. And you know, there’s always ‘next year’…. ;)
Thanks for reading!-Jess
Hungry for more info on IMC? Check out their website at http://www.artimc.org/Also, be sure to watch this awesome video about our week at IMC! (featuring IMC 2016 special guest Marc Scheff and IMC 2016 attendees Priscilla Kim and Tawny Fritz),https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rs4d993_4PM
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While I was at the Illustration Master Class in Boston, I picked up oil painting again. (Well, I actually oil painted in college, but let’s just say that oil paint and I parted on bad terms). Yet after studying fantastic artists like Rebecca Leveille Guay and Dan Dos Santos, it began to dawn on me that there were more than one way to use oil paints (shocker! I know…)So before the week at IMC was out, I was determined to crack open my tubes of oil and get some paint on my hands. After all, I was surrounded by oil painters—was this not the best place to give oils a second chance?After watching Dan Dos Santos’ painting demo, I asked him for some pointers and suggestions for an oil study I had started. I showed him the simple sketch I did, loosely based off of a bad reference photo I found online.
Half-expecting the “just keep trying” speech that some people give, I was surprised when Dan kindly offered to help walk me through the steps. But first he reminded me that if I’m painting realistically, I’ll have to have proper lighting for accurate referencing. (By the way, did I mention that I’m terribly lazy at acquiring good reference shots? “I can just figure it out in my head…” always seems to be my lame excuse.) But I was there to learn, so I grabbed a couple friends to help take a photo of my face with better lighting. Using the lighting reference shot, I shaded my sketch and showed it to Dan.
He gave a couple suggestions (move the eye back a bit and broaden the neck slightly—it’s amazing what other people see in your drawing that you don’t), then instructed the next step of spray fixing the pencil sketch, and then toning it with a couple light layers of burnt sienna acrylic washes.
Next, Dan showed how to seal the acrylics and create a matte base for the oil paints by covering the piece with a couple light coats of matte medium mixed with molding paste (spelled like “molding”, yet pronounced like “modeling” pasted. Why? One of the mysteries that the world will never know…)After the matte medium/
Next, Dan had me mix three different swatches of skin tone, and lay them in while heavily referencing my lighting photograph, all the while being careful to not muddy the shadows that I had previously put down.
Things started to blend together as I continued to paint, and Dan demonstrated a few handy tricks when it came to facial features.
Also, it is essential to maintain proper nutrition throughout long bouts of painting...
“The Passing of the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup” Recreated in the style of the Sistine Chapel (Courtesy of Christine Rhee)
I still have a lot of practice to do, but it’s a start. Thanks Dan for the crash course!
