Back on Campobello Island—And a Two-Person Show!

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Incoming Tide / 12x24 Oil
Will this be in my show?

Back on Campobello Island...and loving it!  I'd forgotten what a beautiful place this is.  Besides gathering up work for my show in Lubec in a few weeks (more about that in a moment), I've been trying to get out to sketch regularly.  I have a large oil painting in mind that I want to do, so some of these sketches are made with a purpose.  I'll post a few of them below.  They're all gouache and 5x8.

As for the show, I'll be joined by Trina Stephenson for Seasons in the Sun: Twenty Years of Landscapes, which will be at the Mulholland Market (Lubec Landmarks) in Lubec, Maine. The show runs from July 21 through August 9, 2022, at 50 N Water Street, Lubec, with an opening reception from 3-5 pm ET on Saturday, July 23.

Originally, this was going to be a solo show.  But US Customs threw a wrench into the works when I went to speak with them about importing my work from Canada into the US.  Turns out, if the value of the paintings entering the US is above a certain amount ($2500), you have to hire an import broker.  I spoke to two brokers, and learned that, frankly, it was going to be a paperwork headache and very costly.  So, I will unfortunately have to limit the number of paintings in the show.  (But you can still come over to Campobello Island to visit my studio, and I will donate part of the studio sales to Lubec Landmarks, a non-profit that is trying to save a historically important smokehouse on the waterfront.)

I will get on my soap box for a moment and note that this requirement favors the big corporations and not the little guy.  I have run into this kind of bureaucratic snafu before when running small, low-impact workshops on federal lands.  (You can read about that here.)  It's a shame, but it turns out it is all about easy money.

Trina will offer her beautiful kaleidoscopic imagery that portrays a variety of natural scenery.  Here's a sample, and you can see more at her website, www.trinastephenson.com

"Bog and Rhodora"

Even though my show is much reduced, I still need helping picking out the paintings.  I'm asking for my loyal followers on Instagram to help.  Every day, I've been posting one or two images of possibilities and asking for feedback.  If you'd like to help, head over to Instagram and follow the hashtag #mcjlubecshow (or go here.)  I appreciate the help!

Now, here are a few gouache sketches.  The big painting I will use some of these for will be in the show. 

Why I Don't Do Giclees, Part 2

"Grand Canyon Gold" - detail

I hadn't expected to stir up such a hornet's nest with my last post on giclées.  The torrent of comments was unprecedented in my years of blogging.  The comments ranged from "Thanks, I'm glad someone finally said that" to "I don't agree with you at all."  And the thing is, so many people on both sides made so many excellent points.

The arguments can be sorted, more or less, into two piles.  In the first, artists feel that their unique, handcrafted items will be devalued by reproductions sold to a public uneducated on the differences among the types of reproduction and original art.  In the second, artists feel that selling reproductions to a public that appreciates a pleasing image is a good way to make a living, as  it supplements (and perhaps encourages) the sale of originals.

Yes, there were lots of sub-arguments and hard-to-classify statements.  But what it all comes down to is this.  What are your goals as an artist?   In many ways, making reproductions becomes a personal choice.  It's not a case of one size fits all.  The answer that's right for me may not be the right answer for you.

For me, I relish the hand-crafted.  I like to see the brush strokes and the process beneath the painting.  In some ways, not only is a painting a thing of beauty, it's also a recording of the artist's performance.  By looking carefully, I can see the painter's mistakes, corrections and discoveries.  I get a lot of enjoyment out of that.   The value has to do more with emotion than dollars.

Granted, this sensibility is shared more by other artists and discerning collectors than by the public-at-large, who usually just want something pretty to hang on the wall.

But I relish the image, too.  Whether dramatic or subtle, knife-edged or soft, bleeding with color or grey with summer-day haze, the image must be something I love.   I will buy a reproduction of an image I like if I can't afford the original.  If the color and design are appealing enough, I'll sacrifice - though somewhat grudgingly - the ability to see the brush work.

Because I approach the business side with more emotion than calculation, I hope to sell my work to people who also appreciate the handcrafted.  I want them to buy and enjoy the original whenever possible.  Thus, I keep my prices lower to make my paintings affordable to most, and I don't make reproductions.  In this way, I try to encourage the purchase of original art.

Selling - and making - original art is much more satisfying to me than selling reproductions.  If I wanted to make real money fast, I'd go back to my old day job.

Why I Don't Do Giclées

"Doe Mesa Afternoon" 9x12, oil 

It seems that many painters, as well as the galleries that represent them, are turning to giclée prints.

Well, a giclée print is little different from the poster you hung on your college dorm wall.  Sure, it's more (much more) expensive and made with archival inks.  But it's still just a printed reproduction.

They are not the same as monotypes, limited lithographic prints and the like, all of which are made through a printmaking process.  Wikipedia defines printmaking thus:  "Printmaking normally covers only the process of creating prints with an element of originality, rather than just being a photographic reproduction of a painting."  I don't care if the giclée is hand-embellished, numbered and printed on canvas - it's an expensive poster.

The point is this.  If you're thinking of buying something that will have monetary value down the road, it's not going to be giclée prints.  Those college dorm wall posters you had are worthless.  The only value they have is emotional and personal.  That poster I had of Van Gogh's sunflowers was a nice decorative piece but it's now worth about five bucks, new.

As an interesting aside, I just looked up Van Gogh sunflower prints on eBay.  The poster's buy-it-now price is $5.  A giclée version on canvas, framed, is $69.95.  Both of these are described as "rare" in the text.  But compare these with one of the original sunflower paintings, which sold in 1987 for around $39,000,000 and is today estimated to be worth about $89,000,000.

If you can't buy the original, you're better off buying an inexpensive offset print, not a giclée.  Giclées cheat the uninformed public, which is one reason why I don't do them.

In fact, I don't sell prints of any kind, other than on little notecards, because I feel my work is priced so inexpensively that almost anyone can afford it.  And wouldn't you rather have the original, anyway?  As a student, you can study it in a way you'd never be able to study a print.   As a buyer, you've got an investment that a print will never be.  Many of my sketches and demos are $100 and under - about the same as that giclée of Vincent's sunflowers - and my gallery pieces aren't that expensive, either.  (The painting at the top of the page is for sale.  I'll make you a deal - $100 +$10 shipping.)

I know the counter-arguments.  If you have one painting that you could have sold a hundred times, wouldn't it make sense to make prints?  Sounds good, but I think it devalues the original.   I've had patrons buy certain paintings precisely because I don't make prints of them.   Some artists will say prints increase the value of the original.  I don't think Van Gogh's original sunflower painting has a huge pricetag because of all those prints hanging up on dorm walls.  What are your thoughts?