Three Challenging Questions

Ernest Meissonier, Connoisseur and Artist

Andrzej Tokarski asks:

How are you still not bored by painting the nature? Not trying to be unpolite, I'm just curious. You're already an amazing artist with nearly perfect understanding of the light. Why do you still paint from nature? Isn't it more interesting to paint from imagination when ur understanding of light/form is as good as yours? I really love your Dinotopia series and for me it seems more fun to paint it than from nature. I hope you will answer me, I'm really curious why do you still paint so much from nature. Cheers smile emoticon

James Gurney Hey, Andrzej, That's nice of you to say, but I'm a long way from a perfect understanding of anything. My first answer is to say that I really love both imagination and observation equally. One feeds inspiration to the other. When I'm painting an imaginary scene, I pretend that I'm really observing it, and when I paint something in front of me, I try to bring something of my inner life to the experience of seeing it.

Painting from nature is a lifelong quest in itself that demands every ounce of my concentration, focus, and skill. I feel a strong desire to capture my view of the beautiful ordinariness of the world around me. All through my life, I've done paintings from observation and imagination side by side.

For the next issue of International Artist I've just written an article called "On-the-Spot Surrealism" which explores ways to morph the two together. And I guess that's the second answer. I'm becoming more and more interested in exploring the borderline between the real and imaginary worlds, which may not be as separate as you suppose.

Zedasilva3 says:
I really admire traditional painting, I really do. I have a lot of respect for it. But being honest, is it worth it when digital painting have reached such a tremendous quality standard and also take a lot less effort? And may it be clear that I'm not criticizing here. The guy is a true master of art, but I ask myself if [it] is fit for the 21st century.

Thanks for the compliment. It's hard for me to compare digital painting to physical painting, since I've never really done much with digital art-making. For the kind of work I do, I find the traditional tools to be the most productive, efficient, and satisfying. Part of the reason is that the lack of an "undo" button forces me to focus and commit and take risks, and I like that.

And I love having my work embodied in a physical object that I can hold in my hands or exhibit in a museum. Making a physical painting is a very basic thing for me, like chewing food with my teeth instead of getting it in an IV drip. For outdoor painting, physical tools have clear advantages of being visible in very bright light, portable, and workable without electricity.

Of course I respect those who work with digital tools for whatever reason, and I do use digital tools for graphic design, photography, video capture, and editing. We all make our peace with computers in one form or another, and there's no ideal mix of tools that works perfectly for everyone.

What we're seeing as we get farther into the 21st century is not more and more digital, but more interesting ways of combining handmade and digital to create new expressions that we haven't seen before. We're seeing that in movies, animation, crafts, graphics, and everything.

Karen asks:
You mentioned something in passing in one of your postings (I'm sorry, I can't recall which) and repeated it during an interview for Savvy Painter. You said, to paraphrase, that artists should study dead artists, not current artists. As a self-directed painter, I very consciously work on improving my craft by taking workshops and classes. I follow a number of inspiring painters online at Facebook, my primary source. I respect your opinion and ideas, so when you made this statement, I became worried that I may be limiting my study habits or studying incorrectly, and may be missing out on more artists. What artists should we be looking at? 

Hi, Karen,
Good question. There's nothing wrong with looking at the work of living artists. The main reason I said that in the interview is because I find if I look too much at the work of any single artist, I might end up emulating them too much. The best I could ever hope to achieve is a second-best to their style. Looking at diverse artists from past eras and cultures makes it more likely that I'll develop my own original voice.

Another reason to study dead artists is that the best work has already been pre-sifted. The best stuff has a way of rising to the top, and you can look at the best of the best from different eras. Looking through the current crop of art, one has to be more selective. There's great work going on right now, don't get me wrong, and I admire the work of many of my colleagues greatly.

As to which artists? That's totally for you to decide.

All that said, it's best to put most of your time into studying nature directly. I have this strange feeling when I'm copying an artists work that if they were standing there they would be saying: "Don't copy my work. Go outside and paint from the real world!" In fact most of your time should be spent cultivating patience and focus in the face of nature. Ultimately, that's the source of it all.