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?

Why Give Away All This Stuff - and About Eliphante Village!

Eliphante Village Interior

At the same seminar where I was talking about social media and copyright, the topic of blogging came up.  Since 2005, I've written over 700 posts, many of which are about painting technique and other useful subjects for the working artist.  Someone in the audience asked, "And you give this information away for free?"  Yes, I do.

Why?  It's so easy to "monetize" things these days, thanks to the twin engines of consumerism and capitalism, you'd think I'd at least stick a Paypal "donate" button on the blog.   But I don't charge for this information.  There's a  long history of "paying it forward" among artists, and I like to think I'm part of that.  I've had many excellent teachers and mentors over the years, many of whom gave their advice freely.  I'm sure you've had people like that in your life, too.  One way of paying them back is by "paying it forward."  It's a nice gesture.

Of course, we all have to make a living.  That's why I paint, teach workshops and write articles and books.  The free information I give out in the blog hopefully results in people buying my paintings, taking my workshops, purchasing the magazines I write for and buying my books and videos.  The information in the blogs is useful, but it's only the start.  There's a lot more where that came from.

If you're a working artist who has something to share, I hope you do.  It feels good to share, and you'll be helping somebody else who can return the favor - by paying it forward.

By the way, yesterday Trina and I paid a visit to Eliphante Village.   You have to take a little boat across Oak Creek to get to it.  Crossing the creek to the Village feels very symbolic, and if you make the trip, you'll understand why.  The crossing is a passage to another world.  Eliphante is a little like Hobbiton - filled with strange-shaped buildings, glittery mosaics, colorful stained glass and sculpture.  It was built by artists Michael and Lida Kahn over a period of 30 years or so.  Eliphante was having an Open House and a potluck.  We were served mesquite bean pancakes, among other vegan delicacies.  I'm thinking it might be a fun place to paint.  You can see one of the building interiors at the top of this post.  Here's a link where you can find out more about this magical place and its history:  http://www.eliphante.org/

Another Eliphante Building

Mentoring for Plein Air Painters

As my loyal followers know, I offer mentoring workshops for outdoor painters here in Sedona as well as on Campobello Island.  (Visit www.PaintSedona.com and www.PaintCampobello.com for details.)  "Mentoring" means different things to different people, so here's my take on it.

In some ways, mentoring is what you might look for when you don't know where to go next.  "Where to go" may mean where to go artistically, or where to go in a business sense.  One may satisify the soul, the other the stomach.

Plato & Aristotle - a famous mentor/mentee pair

Where to go in a business sense has a very concrete goal - to make more money.  Having been solely a working artist for over a decade, I feel I'm successful and that my experiences and insights can help you in a mentoring workshop.

Where to go artistically, however, is more difficult.  Imagine being the guru on the mountaintop, and everyone's climbing to you for advice.  It's easy to give everyone the same mysterious answer - "just keep painting," seems to be popular - but I like to give something more personal and useful.

Beginning painters don't need to climb the mountain in search of wisdom.  Just read the books, take the workshops, and practice the craft.  But those who have finally become fluent in their medium and are no longer beginning painters are in a different spot.  They need to learn the finer aspects of the craft and to receive guidance on satisfying the soul.

It is these painters who would make ideal students for the mentoring workshops.  They want to go somewhere, but they don't know where.  They want to become not just better painters but better artists.  An artist is someone who is using his craft to move along some path toward happiness and fulfillment, and my goal is to help you with that.

There's one more type of mentoring, and that's a retreat.  A retreat is a time for you to explore and to largely find your own way.  For retreats, I offer my services as a guide.  I'll show you the best places to paint and, if you want it, help with issues of craft.  But more importantly, the time is yours to explore the landscape - both the landscape outside you, and the one within.

• For more on the Sedona winter/spring mentoring plein air painting workshops, please visit www.PaintSedona.com.
• For more on the Campobello Island summer/fall mentoring plein air painting workshops, please visit www.PaintCampobello.com

Do You Want to Paint Good Art, or Paintings that Sell?

Sometimes you make a painting that satisfies your soul to the deepest depths, but it doesn't sell.  Sometimes you make one that you deem technically okay but uninspired, and it sells right away.  If you'd made giclée prints, you could have sold it a hundred times over.   Which would you rather paint?  Of course, we'd all like to paint ones that do both, and sometimes, we do.

But here's a secret.  I prize the ones that satisfy me and don't sell.  They satisfy me even more because I know they won't sell.  This is perhaps perverse, since I'm taking pleasure in what some consider a negative.   But knowing that I can keep it forever means that it's mine.  Sometimes you just want to keep something for yourself.

I think, too, that the ones that satisfy you but not the public have some mystery about them.  Something personally engaging that you need to listen to.  It may be trying to give you directions to a new and better place for you and your art.

Here's a little oil painting I did while at Zion National Park back in November.

"Blue Shadow" 5x7 oil

I doubt it'll sell because it's subtle with soft, muted color and is lacking in strong, visual impact.  But it's one of my very favorites, and I have it on the wall where I can see it from the bed.  So what about it appeals to me?  Exactly that - the subtlety, the muted color, the lack of visual impact.  It's so subtle, I'm not even sure it photographs well.

Now here's a painting that sold.  I could have sold it (or, at least, any painting of this boat) many times.  People are always disappointed to hear it's no longer available.  I do like the painting; otherwise, I wouldn't have put it out for sale.  I suppose I could make prints of it, but I won't.  And why is a subject for a future blog post.

"The Simone & Rachel" 16x20, oil

(By the way, I'd appreciate it if you'd go over and "like" my Facebookpage.)

Copyright and the Internet

"Grand Canyon Blue" 24x12, oil

The other day, I was speaking at a seminar about how the Internet and social media can help artists promote themselves.  One artist said, "I've heard that Facebook owns the images once you post them."   Another said, "But when you post them, don't you still own the copyright?"

Facebook doesn't own your images.  According to the most current terms of agreement,

"You own all of the content and information you post on Facebook, and you can control how it is shared through your privacy and application settings. In addition:


For content that is covered by intellectual property rights, like photos and videos (IP content), you specifically give us the following permission, subject to your privacy and application settings: you grant us a non-exclusive, transferable, sub-licensable, royalty-free, worldwide license to use any IP content that you post on or in connection with Facebook (IP License). This IP License ends when you delete your IP content or your account unless your content has been shared with others, and they have not deleted it."

(Speaking of Facebook, I'd appreciate it if you'd go over and "like" my Facebookpage.)

Still, for any social media site or hosting service you use, you should read the terms of agreement before posting your images.  It may vary from service to service.

Unless you've expressly given it away, you do own the copyright to your images.  Even when you sell a painting, you retain the right to reproduce the image in formats like giclée prints and notecards - again, unless you've signed an agreement giving this right to someone else.

Of course, owning the copyright doesn't mean that an admirer won't download your image and use it for desktop wallpaper.  Or that a less sensitive admirer won't create a series of notecards with it.  Or worse yet, that the Chinese fine art industry won't sell "originals," made by slave-wage workers, to fancy hotel for decorating their rooms.

To make your images less attractive to theft, consider keeping your images scaled down to 1000 pixels on the longest side with a resolution of 72 dpi.  (You don't need more than 72 dpi for most display screens these days.)  If someone wants to see a larger version, you can always e-mail one or put it on a secure hosting service, such as Picasa.  I recommend against adding a watermark; they're distracting.  If it's important to you to mark your images in some way, consider adding an invisible watermark with a tool like Digimarc.  Digimarc also allows you to search the Web for illegal copies of your images.

Speaking of images, above is a large (24x12) oil painting I've been working on.  It's a thunderstorm in the Grand Canyon.  I resized it as 72 dpi with 1000 pixels on the longest side.  Below are two detail shots, same specifications.