Rick Janson Art Studio

I Got Banned

October 18, 2026

I certainly didn’t expect that. While many of my paintings are open to interpretation regarding their content, I’ve never felt that my scenes of mostly urban life were particularly controversial.

I just finished the first of a series of paintings of Saint John, New Brunswick. The plan is to make a series of affordable giclees (canvas prints) for retail in the area.

I debated what would be the first painting of the series. Last time I was in Saint John I had taken a good number of pictures of people passing in front of Trinity Church, which is one of the dominant landmarks in uptown. Down the block is Trinity Gallery, presumably named in relation to its proximity to the church. Its hard to go to Saint John and not see this building. What held me back on doing this subject is the famous Norman Rockwell painting “Lift Up Thine Eyes.” In it people are walking with their heads down past a magnificent gothic church. Above them are a flock of birds rising up in the sky. (Click here to see it). Caroline Johnson, a curatorial fellow at Brigham Young University, writes that Rockwell did the painting as an illustration to a magazine essay on “meaningful spiritual practice as a refuge for those struggling or simply preoccupied by the demands of modern life.”

I have to say, having stood there a while, all the people who walked passed this gothic church in Saint John resembled those in the Rockwell painting — far more preoccupied with the demands of their day-to-day lives. That included two women chatting while walking with a child in a stroller, and an elderly man who did look world weary to me. Maybe he was just on his way to the dentist. Who knows?

There is no question that the painting deals with the spiritual and secular divide, the architecture itself creating that divide between those on the sidewalk below and the spiritual world above, the wall and iron fence sending its own message. I am the last person to suggest religion is anybody’s answer. At one point in my family history we moved to the UK, and for the simple reason that my mother wanted me to go to the better school in town, we made a quick conversion from Roman Catholicism to the Church of England. While our sessions in school (including class trips across the street to the church) were of good intention, the kids often saw themselves as part of a tribe, and that other tribe (the RCs) in their minds needed a good bashing. When it was discovered that I had once been one of the RCs, I got shunned by some of my new friends. Their parents explicitly told them they couldn’t hang out with me anymore. It is with this background that perhaps my painting is far more ambiguous in nature.

So what is this banning all about? First, here is the full painting (below). See if you can figure it out first.

Trinity (2026) 16″ x 20″ Oil on Canvas

One of the Artist Networks I belong to has monthly educational sessions, of which the commerce side of the art world is a frequent topic. Earlier in the year we were given the advice not to forget about showing our work to other artists because artists are also collectors. This resonated with me given we have original work by about thirty artists in our home. This month the suggestion was to stay away from artist sites, that artists are not the audience for your work, that instead you should use social media to find your target audience. Hmmm.

I have to say I like looking at what other artists are doing and connecting with them. This is, after all, a very individual occupation. A good part of my day is spent looking at social media (eg Facebook) groups for artists as well as specific professional sites, such as Art News and the Art Newspaper. I want to know how my work fits. For the social media groups it is also about give and take. You get to scan through the work of others, and in turn, you post your own material for the benefit of them. I honestly don’t go into any of these with the expectation that a sale will arise, although our latest presenter did suggest that the majority of her sales do come from social media, having sold work as far away as Australia.

Most of these artist groups on social media have a set of rules you have to agree to in order to be able to post and leave comments behind. Some you can browse without doing so, others are private until such time as you join. No peeking until then. Common rules include being nice and to avoid politics and religion. Given the hellscape that is social media, with MAGA Trolls and Russian Bots mucking up the place with their offensive taunts, I can understand why these groups would want to put into place some rules of decorum.

For the most part, by posting I can see whether a new painting resonates with others or not depending on the reaction on these sites, so it is a useful tool.

About a week ago I noticed one particularly large site (it had more than 100,000 members) for Older Artists. Being an older artist, I was intrigued and wanted to take a look. I’ve previously written how older artists are frequently condescended to, and often not considered to be real artists. Would this be discussed? Instead, once I got in, it was a mostly disappointing collection of pet portraits and amateur landscapes. I none-the-less put up a couple of pieces that were well received in that environment. I felt that if I was looking through their stuff, they should be able to do the same. Then the third painting I posted never went up. What the?

Then I got an explanation from one of the moderators. I had broken the rules of the group by posting a religious image — presumably they meant the church. I noticed I now had an “X” placed beside my name.

If the image of a church was too much for them, I can’t imagine what they would make of most of the last 2000 years of Western art. Certainly they would have banished Norman Rockwell for Lift Up Thine Eyes had the artist still been alive.

I can’t say I tested the waters to see if I could post something else or whether I was totally banned. I didn’t care anymore and ejected them from my FB lists. This was really extreme, and goes a long way to explaining why the group only showed art work (mostly amateur) of such an innocuous nature.

It also made me mad. Fighting the stereotype of older artists, these folks seem to be poster images for that stereotype. Its perhaps a good thing that their group is totally private.

So there we go, my first banishment. It is a badge of honour.

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Don’t forget you can ignore the palaver and go straight to the pictures by clicking here. And there are still copies of my little book available. Click here for that.
Don’t Blink

October 5, 2026

Deciding when a painting is done is not easy. You don’t want to give up too early, and you don’t want it to have the life crushed out of the work either. I think my paintings largely tell me when they are done, although sometimes they can be quite obstinate about crossing the finish line. And as I have previously written, sometimes they fool you and insist on going back on the easel after a considerable break in time. Done. Not done.

Today’s painting seems to be generating a little buzz on social media after a long birth. I started this painting much earlier in the year from a picture I had taken from the GO Train in late winter. I do rotate my active work, so it doesn’t mean that I have been working on it every day. In July it got placed on hold as I rushed to finish a different painting for a self-portrait show (I finished third in an accompanying competition attached to that show).

For those who are not familiar with Toronto, our commuter train is called the GO — the initials standing for Government of Ontario. From where I live in Oshawa, it is about an hour on the GO to arrive at Union Station in downtown Toronto. One can ride it all the way to Hamilton, if one so chooses,

In that hour the mind does tend to wander, especially if I decide against bringing a book. Train lines are a very different way of entering a city — unlike roadways where the building face forward, the train line tends to skirt the backs of properties. These are private places and as such, I often feel a bit of a voyeur looking into them. Many of the spaces are protected by rows of trees, the properties sheltering themselves against the commuter line. Often the train tracks are recessed a bit, leaving you to peer out of a gully. Riding the GO I usually sit on the upper level for that reason — the view is better. Residential properties are more common as you approach the center of the city, although on the outskirts one views a lot of old factories, urban infrastructure (eg. water plants), golf courses and parks. Not everyone wants to live so close to a train.

I’ve taken many photos from the GO over the years, thinking maybe one of them would work on my easel. I have ridden the GO so often I now have some idea of what kind of landscape to expect as the train rumbles down the rail. However, at speed, one has to act fast. As a result I tend to shoot very widely, allowing myself room to crop the image to something that might make a little more compositional sense. I don’t need it to work as a photo. I’m looking for visual information for a painting. I also usually press my phone up against the window glass to avoid the issue of glare. It’s not the most comfortable way to take a picture, but it does work.

Yesterday’s post I suggested that there was a possibility that this painting may finally come into the station (pun intended). I knew I was close. After about an hour and a half yesterday I reached the point where I couldn’t see what else was left to be done. Suddenly it spoke to me. That left me in the unusual situation of starting another painting on the same day.

From The GO Train (2026) 24″ x 24″ Oil on Canvas.

Living with snow on the ground for nearly half the year it is no surprise that many Canadian paintings feature the white stuff. It is a very different colour palette to work with. I can’t say I do a lot of winter paintings. For me winter is something to endure, not to celebrate. That probably makes me a bad Canadian. When possible, I try and evade at least a part of it by travelling to warmer climates. But there is something compelling about these images. People tell me all the time that my winter paintings are among their favorites.

Others have told me that with four to six months of snow in the year that this is the last thing they want to look at.

I think the answer is to hang the painting in the summer when the weather is blistering hot. That’s when I painted most of it, and found it to be, well, cooling. As a strategy, its one I might return to next year if I can find the right subject matter.

For those who are curious about where to look riding the GO Train, this is from the Lakeshore East line between Guildwood and Rouge looking north (away from the lake). The train is usually roaring by at this point, so don’t blink!

If you haven’t subscribed already (and most of you haven’t), please do. It’s free and you’ll get notice of when there is a new post (as opposed to wondering when that guy is finally going to post something new). If you are an art collector, that likely gives you a head start on the rest to make a purchase.

To read more about me, don’t forget that there is a recent profile on the Fine Art News site. Here is the link:
https://fineartsnews.com/2026/07/rick-janson-emerging-in-late-career/

I also still have available copies of my little Monograph: Somehow This All Pertains To Me. It’s 144-pages and is chock full of images, including some of my earliest work from the late 1970s. It is about the physical size of a car manual. There are only 100 of these in existence, so when they are gone, they are gone.

And if you just want to look at the pictures and avoid all the palaver, you can reach my gallery page by either clicking on the menu, or just click here.
Old Houses Vibrating With Art

October 4, 2026

Our house will hit the century mark in 2028 — less than two years away. On the weekend we started discussing what we should do to mark 100 years of its existence, almost a fifth of that time in our care and stewardship.

Of course in Europe this would be a new build.

We spent Saturday touring houses of a much older vintage in Port Hope, Ontario, about a half hour drive to the East of here. The Port Hope house tour has been going on for about sixty years, and this one wasn’t our first. The money raised from the 1200 tickets sold for the tour goes to the Port Hope Heritage Foundation, which assists home owners conserve buildings that make the town unique.

Hats off to those who open up their homes — having 1200 people tromp through your bedrooms, kitchen and living spaces is a daunting prospect. One of the home owners told us that she stuffed her car (a Mini!) with items she didn’t want to leave out for the tour. I’m sure others did the same. At one house Geraldine asked the owner where they kept their clothes given all the closets appear to have been renovated into en suites.

What struck me the most was the extent some of these houses vibrated with a well-chosen art collection. At the first stop of the day, on Ridout Street, the owner had left information sheets on the artwork in many of the rooms. That included two very dominant pieces by Newfoundland artist Anne Meredith Barry, who I had met and had lunch with while a student at the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design in the 1980s. At the time Barry had an incredible show on at the College’s art gallery. Barry’s work heavily abstracted the landscape, in this case of these two images, a night sky and scene involving whales. Barry passed away in 2003 after leaving an indelible mark on the Canadian art scene. I also noticed a piece of another celebrated Canadian artist — Graham Coughtry — whose abstracted figures have found their way into many large public collections.

Sadly, I can’t share those images — one of the rules of the tour is no interior photography. Understandable, but darn!

The Ridout Street house was not the only one on the tour with a remarkable art collection. I noticed an original print by another Newfoundland artist — David Blackwood — at another location. The only house that didn’t offer up its art — a large attractive Romanesque Revival Home on Bedford Street — was lightly staged by Southebys who were listing it for sale — a cool $1.55 million CAD if you are in the market for a 4500 square foot house from 1850. The house currently belongs to Canadian Nuclear Laboratories.

To say that it was a let-down was an understatement. While one could see the real estate potential in the building, the things that animate a home — including an art collection — were absent. As a result, despite its size, it had the smallest line to get in, and certainly people were emerging quite briskly after winding their way through it.

One of the last stops of the day was at two condominiums in a converted school built in 1905. I really didn’t know what to expect, walking through the door of both and being bowled over by what had been done, including the addition of a mezzanine and a sunken living room. Both also had extensive art collections — at the first one the owner informed us that two of the older portrait studies down the hall were of family members. One of the paintings, a female figure in a light dappled landscape, reminded us of the Helen McNicoll show we had seen over the summer at the National Gallery of Canada, and judging from the style of dress of the figure, possibly either a contemporary or it was created shortly after McNicoll’s passing in 1915. In the bedroom of the first condominium we met the last principal of the school prior to the conversion. He said he was sitting where his office once was. We had wondered about ties to the school by former students and were later informed that several had decided to set up house there. The principle told us stories of kids sneaking up on to the roof to play pranks on their fellow student. He said his wife had initially sold many of the units as the real estate agent. The second condo we visited the owners informed us that they had only been there for two months — to get ready for the show must have been a huge task, but they looked well settled in, including the placement of a baby grand piano in the living room.

After touring 10 homes (we passed on the church that was added to the home tour, the house of God, perhaps?) we made our way into Port Hope’s commercial area to browse the shops. It wasn’t hard to see where much of the decor emerged from in many of these beautiful homes, including the Michael’s Penny’s shop, Atelier on John and Gallery 34 on John, where it turned out one of the two gallery owners (both artists) had her house up on the tour that day. We recognized some of her work that had been visible in the circa 1860 Charles Street house. The downtown was buzzing after the tour with 1200 people suddenly set free in its proximity — we were surprised to see line-ups at the cash of many of the shops we stopped in. There were also people lining the Ganaraska River as the salmon were spawning. Politicians forever underestimate the power of tours like this and the arts in general on economic development. Every time I visit Port Hope I always wonder why I don’t spend more time there? It’s close by and is among the most charming of Ontario towns.

This week it is back into the studio. I have two stubborn signature paintings that refuse to get finished, but I think I’m getting close. I am also likely to finish the first of a series of Saint John paintings I am hoping to turn into giclee sales. I did hear back on my entry to the Kingston prize — as expected, I didn’t make the cut to the final 30. They had about 400 entries this year, so the odds were not all that favourable. The painting I originally wanted to enter is still incomplete on the easel in my studio. Hopefully it will be a strong entry into the 2027 prize. I have also been making some initial contact with commercial galleries in Ontario to try and move some of my work out of the studio and into places where people can see them.

I’m fighting my impatience to get stuff out there sooner than it should be. After about two years of working close to full-time on my art career, I find it is starting to pay off given I think I am seeing better, which is a big part of the battle. I’m also thinking more about my work from a conceptual point of view.

If you haven’t seen it already, my recent profile in Fine Arts News is still up at https://fineartsnews.com/2026/07/rick-janson-emerging-in-late-career/

Today’s feature image is a detail from a winter painting of our house. The full image is below.

Snowfall on Mary Street (2024) 11″ x 14″ Oil on Canvas
Multiple Viewpoints

September 22, 2026

It started with a painting from Tournon, France, in which I captured a cafe during the midday siesta. I liked the idea that the reflections in the windows captured something of the town but at the same time allowed you to look into the premises, a freezer visible on the far right side. I also captured myself, which is a Where’s Waldo type task. Also each frame of the cafe tended to alter the view, making it almost cubist in the multiple views it offered.

Preparing for the Scugog Studio Tour in May, I wanted to capture something of Port Perry without it following a well-worn path of many who have tried to capture the town. Standing across from the Romanesque building that dominates the main street, I found an unexpected view, also fragmented, in the form of a jewellery store window. In the hour and a half before it sold and got taken away, it got a lot of attention by visitors to my shared space.

I’ve been deliberately looking now, finding that there is a lot of interest in these paintings that take on an all-encompassing view. The most recent, finished last week, was of the Pillars Bar in Dundee, Scotland. We had been visiting the satellite of the Victoria and Albert Museum as well as boarded Scott’s ship that had first sailed to the Antarctic. Afterwards we took a brief stroll through the center of the city, coming across Pillars. The late afternoon light illuminated the buildings around it, making for a perfect visual moment. Like the other paintings, you get a sense of the surrounding community but also what’s inside, in this case a pair of individuals who appeared to be in heavy conversation. I found out afterwards that the Pillar bar is also known for its art collection inside. I did let them know of the painting.

Dundee (2026) 16″ x 20″ Oil on Canvas

Le Dauphin (2025) 16″ x 20″ Oil on Canvas

Port Perry (2026) 24″ x 24″ Oil on Canvas.

The ways of the art market are certainly mysterious. The New York Times ran a feature today on the work of Alejandro Mario Yilanes, a Bolivian painter inspired by Diego Rivera who moved to NYC in the 1950s, and presumably died there not long after (nobody knows for sure, information on Yilanes is scant). There is little of Yilanes work still in existance, much of it from a cache of art found in a Manhattan Apartment that had been once placed in a dumpster by the landlord and retrieved by a New York City cop. Now many of the larger pieces have been purchased by museums and collectors, the value between $400,000-$1.9 million US. As usual, the artist is long deceased now that his ship has finally come in. Looking at the work, it is hard to believe that anyone would simply throw it away. I’ve written previously about artists passing away and much of their career output simply disappearing for lack of a home for the work.

Last year we were away in Scotland for October and about half of November, so I missed Art Toronto. I learned this week that Royal Bank is no longer a sponsor, although they will still have a presence at the fair. This year’s show seems to be dominated by galleries primarily from Toronto and Montreal — not exactly a surprise given the turbulence in the art market in recent years. There are other galleries taking place from across Canada as well as from the US, Mexico, Chile, Colombia, Peru, Costa Rica, Guatemala and Europe. It takes place from October 29 – November 1 at the Metro Toronto Convention Centre, North Building. Can’t wait!
Back in the Saddle

September 11, 2026

It’s been a bit of a whirlwind over the last month, travelling to the East Coast, participating in a self-portrait show at the Leslie Grove Gallery (where I finished third in the competition), responding to further call for entries and getting back into the studio.

It feels like I have done little over the summer, but reflecting back, since May I have worked on five pieces, including the aforementioned self-portrait. In addition, I have been working with former journalist and educator Kelly Toughill on a portrait that has so far involved two face-to-face sessions and two oil sketches, one of which she is using for her new website showcasing her fiction writing. So far the beta site looks great, and am delighted to see my preliminary portrait of her there. The two oil sketches I did of her were done on board, something I haven’t experienced since art school. I would be interested in trying more.

My second portrait study of former journalist and educator Kelly Toughill. I hope to be working on a larger final polished portrait of her in the coming month. This image is being used on her new website promoting her writing as a fiction author.

Part of travels included two nights in Ottawa in order to see the Helen McNicoll (1879-1915) show at the National Gallery of Canada. While many Canadian artists have been grouped under the impressionist umbrella, I believe her work best exhibits the principals of the group, much of it painted en plein air in France and the UK. In the past she has been exhibited with the work of Mary Cassatt, the similarities more than a little obvious. Sadly her career was cut short, passing away at age 35 from diabetes complications. One can see a giant leap forward in her work in her last two years of her life, leaving us to wonder what could have been had she lived longer. As a result there are only about 300 of her paintings in existence, making them much sought after by collectors. In this show, the gallery juxtaposes McNicoll’s work with her companion, Mary Heister Reid, for whom we can see different treatments of the same vistas. On the day we were there, additional interest was paid to The Bean Harvest, which had been the subject of a 2024 episode of the BBC’s Fake or Fortune. The painting had been purchased for about 2,000 pounds at a auction in the UK by artist David Taylor. At the time authentication was incomplete and the painting was listed as “in the style of Helen McNicoll.” The BBC travelled to Canada to research the providence while the painting underwent extensive scientific analysis. The show left little doubt that it was a McNicoll original. Canadian billionaire Pierre Lassonde was reported to have offered 300,000 pounds for the painting, but the owner had opted instead to put it up for auction by Southebys. That turned out to be an expensive mistake by Taylor given the painting sold under the hammer for 174,000 pounds. Who was the lucky bidder? Lassonde again. Lassonde told the interviewers that he intended to one day donate his Helen McNicoll collection to a public gallery. A large number of Lassonde’s McNicoll paintings were in this Ottawa show.

In the National Gallery of Canada looking at Helen McNicoll’s The Bean Harvest, subject of a BBC episode of Fake or Fortune.

The August deadline for submitting my self-portrait meant having to put aside most of everything else I was working on at the time. With that painting complete and my travels concluded, I was able to focus on four other paintings I had been working on over the summer. Returning to them also meant that I could go back to working in a rotation again, a method I much prefer to simply banging away on a single image over a length of time.

The first one of the four to be finished (that is always qualified given my penchant for putting paintings back on the easel again) is an image I did of Seville, Spain. We spent about four hours in the city, taking a day excursion from where we had been staying in Portugal in 2024. It didn’t take long to realize that we didn’t have enough time to do everything we wanted in Seville. We did walk along the river and into the city, where we visited the remains of Christopher Columbus in the enormous Gothic cathedral, had lunch in a small bistro, and took a cruise along the river before it was time to return to Albufeira.

I knew when I photographed this scene that it would be a painting. I liked both the dappled light, the contrast with the construction barriers with the formality of the building, and the tourists scrambling along in front of it. The building itself was unusual, the windows all different in design. I’ve been Spain a few times and look forward to returning again.

Seville (2026) 16″ x 20″ Oil on Canvas

So what’s next? I need to print some new promotional postcards, very few remaining after the Leslie Grove show last month. I didn’t initially have a website when I printed these, at one point running them through my inkjet to add the site address to the backside. This time the website will make the front. I also need to think about putting something newer on the front — the last cards contained a painting from Mexico that I had done in 2009. I like that painting a lot, but its time for something a bit more recent.

Meanwhile the call for entries are coming fast and furious. It’s time to pay attention and line up the next show on the calendar. Don’t forget, I still have limited copies of my Monograph book available — click here for more information. And as usual, please visit my gallery page if you want to look at art without all the talking points. Take care!
Wet Feet

August 6, 2026

I finished reading the Taschen book about David Hockney about a week before the artist passed June 11. The book, and by extension Hockney’s career, energized me in ways I didn’t expect.

I had planned for some time to do another self-portrait, this one a more considered effort after several small studies done in 2025. I was also following a call for entry for self-portraits at a gallery I have previously exhibited with in Toronto and was looking to do something a bit more imaginative this time out. Hence why the others were labelled as studies.

For this self-portrait I quickly thought it would be interesting to do my own nod to the master, not necessarily painting in his style, but doing my own riff on one of his best known paintings, 1972’s Portrait Of An Artist (Pool With Two Figures). After all, I did have a pool, and while I live in the burbs, the summer light at times can be reminiscent of Hockney’s California.

Getting My Feet Wet While Reading Hockney in the Suburbs (2026) Oil on Canvas, 36″ x 36″

I started off setting up my iPhone on a tripod to do several selfies, making adjustments to get myself in the foreground and show plenty of pool. Compositionally, I realized I likely had to take a couple of steps into the pool for it to work, hence why I was getting my feet wet both literally and figuratively. The morning light was very angular. I liked the way it illuminated the shed in the background — or what I like to call the art hut (its where I normally paint). Whereas the blue California skies were an important part of Hockney’s work at the time, I wanted to box in the image, utilizing a screen of trees beyond the shed and the fence. No blue skies, although the real-life scene would have included several patches of blue along that line. Not this time. Like Hockney, I felt it important to simplify the background, which took incredible restraint on my part given my penchant for detail. You might say I like to show the work in my pictures. That included reducing my back garden to grass and a shadow fence — normally there are many shrubs, plants and a pond back there along the property line.

The other question emerged was, what about the swimmer? About a week earlier our grandkids had been out for a few days, and with this in mind, I had taken a number of pictures of them underwater. The trick was to find the right place to insert the swimmer to make it look right. In the Hockney painting, the swimmer is moving towards the figure. In my tongue in cheek, he’s swimming away from me.

With a deadline of August 3rd for the Call for Entry, I abandoned my usual process of rotating my canvases as I worked on them. Given the size, I knew I would have to go all out on it to finish on deadline. I did find myself going a little judgment blind on this as a result, trusting my instincts that it would play out. When I finally started posting images of it on social media, the feedback seemed to vindicate my efforts. Phew! I appreciated the thumbs up particularly on the Hockney fan FB site.

One person wondered if the water would evolve to look like Hockney’s pools. That would have been so much easier, and I did think about it for a long time, but I decided that the clash of styles might not entirely work out. Instead I had to carefully observe the pool itself and figure out how to approach it in paint. That was likely the most difficult part of the process, spending more time than usual mixing the right colour of aqua. I had painted water many times before, but a pool presents very differently than say a lake or a river. The other things is, our pool is not that wide, and compositionally I didn’t want the far side wall and coping of the pool to show. So my pool got bigger on my canvas, giving me more room to plant my fleeing swimmer too.

But what’s with the hat? A few weeks beforehand I had some sun damage removed by my doctor from the top of my head. I forget that my hair is not quite as thick on top as it was in my younger days. As usual, my response was overboard, ordering a significant number of hats in a variety of styles to keep my head covered. Given I was going portray myself in full sunshine, the cap brim did present some challenges around how much of my eyes you were going to see. It likely meant a little less squinting too. Happily, I think it worked.

The painting will be on view at the Leslie Grove Gallery as part of the This Is Me Show (August 19-30). Official opening is Thursday, August 20th from 6-8 pm. The Leslie Grove Gallery is located at 1158 Queen St. E (corner of Jones) in the Leslie Grove Park. Normal gallery hours are 12 Noon to 5 pm, Wednesdays to Sundays.

Meanwhile, tentatively I’m planning on hitting the road next week, travelling first to Ottawa, through Quebec to New Brunswick, and briefly dipping our toes in the Nova Scotia surf. When I get back there are a series of paintings that are not far from completion and should appear in this space. If you haven’t done so already, please subscribe — its a lot easier that checking back to see if I have posted anything new yet. Subscriptions, of course, are free.

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Squinting in the light

July 24, 2026

Thank goodness the World Cup is over. Viva Spain! It did eat into my productivity over the last number of weeks, but now its time to put it some serious time in the art hut.

It’s not that I haven’t been productive – the work has continued through June and July. At this point I have six paintings well on the go, one that has been commanding my singular attention given a call for entry at the end of this month. I’m also working larger, as I knew would be inevitable.

I’ve also been working on getting my profile out there, including a new feature at FineArtsNews — click here to read it. I’ve said it before but it requires repeating — the time in the studio represents only half the work of maintaining an art practice. At this point I am giving consideration to ways to further expand my audience, trying to overcome what I’m told is a common concern for artists — that I might be presenting myself a little too early. For those of us not willing to give into the level of consistency that requires you to paint versions of the same piece over and over again, it is an anxiety-driven question. I’m sure there are creative individuals on their death beds certain that the next phase of their work is where their breakthrough lies.

While I normally rotate between paintings, I have been working almost entirely on a single canvas for the last month in order to complete it for an upcoming call for entry on self-portraits. You may recall that last year I did three self-portrait studies as a means of working towards a more complete finished work. That more finished work is upon me now.

Self portraits can be tricky business. What was Rembrandt looking for that he painted himself fifty times? When we think of Vincent Van Gogh, Gustave Courbet or Frida Kahlo, the self portrait is a key part of their oeuvre. Even Canada’s own Emily Carr frequently represented herself in paint. Given art is about existance, this shouldn’t surprise anybody. I’d be willing to be most artists feel stripped bare from putting themselves out there in this way,

The detail at the top is the first sneak peak of this new portrait. It’s large (for me) — the painting will be 36″ x 36″ when complete.

As part of the preparation for this, I looked at a lot of portraiture. The ones that to me are the most successful are the ones that hint at a story, showing some vulnerability in the sitter. As artists we often capture our own insecurity, When I was a student at the University of Ottawa, I often crossed the Rideau Canal to look at Edwin Holgate’s Ludivine. Her direct gaze back at us speaks volumes about a young woman who has recently lost her mother and thrust into the role of head of family. There is something about it that it is heartbreaking, her hands clasped together before the portraitist.

What I was surprised to discover is how few portraits are rendered outside in nature. There are many where clearly the person posed for the painting indoors, then the artist applied the outdoors as a backdrop. When I look at Prudence Heward’s Rollande, for example, the sitter is obviously not in the outdoor setting that is depicted in the painting. The light sources are completely different.

Determine to go this route — inspired by the late David Hockney’s pool paintings — I quickly discovered that outdoor light can be difficult to work with. If the sun is out, it is likely your sitter will be squinting, even if they are standing in the shade. Our eyes often are critical to our identity, so it does present some difficulties around likeness.

The image above is still a work in progress. I’m not convinced yet that I have found my own light in this portrait. It feels a little stiff. I hope to fix that in the next week, along with a host of other problems currently besetting it. I did simplify the background, similar to Hockney, but I’m not sure I have given it the life it deserves yet. While I have painted water in many a landscape, doing so in a swimming pool is a new challenge, and I have been mixing aqua over and over to get it right. I have made some progress on this thanks to the magic of layering oil paint, but there is more to go on the pool itself. I am also trying to pull it back from being a distraction to the overall composition, finding a balance with the other elements.. At present, it is too energetic. Again, in tribute to Hockney, I do have someone swimming underwater in the pool, the reference for it taken from a family photo I snapped earlier in the summer. In the final image, I am looking up from a book about Hockney, perhaps a blunt instrument for those who might not otherwise get the references. The book has two portraits of Hockney at the bookends of his life, the back cover a photograph, the front a Hockney self-portrait. So my self portrait has become three portraits. Being able to convey a representation while at the same time trying to flatten the planes to make it look more like a book is a bit of a trick, one I haven’t quite got right yet.

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Next month we are travelling east where I hope to capture some fresh images to bring back to the studio. I’m hoping to convert some of those into a print series at a friendly price. I’m also having a second session with another individual around some portrait work I began in June. So far I have two oil sketches of her and I now feel ready to move on to the final stage. I do find that the sketches help develop a muscle memory around representing the face and help to resolve anticipated issues with the final piece.

So much going on. Stay tuned!
Finding Discipline in Between the Footie

June 19, 2026

It’s tough to be disciplined as an artist. Throughout the winter and spring I’ve spent consistent hours in my studio, toiling away on multiple canvases. Then the World Cup began. Yikes. Needless to say, I’m a little behind where I feel I should be at this point in the year.

I presently have four paintings and a study underway. The study is in preparation for a portrait painting, possibly with two subjects. A little while back I put out a call for volunteers to have their portrait done. Like David Hockney, I like doing portraits. I am just not all that fond of portrait commissions. I suppose it is a manner of who is in charge at the end of the day. Fortunately I had two responses to my call, this being the first.

I chose to follow a similar process to the portrait as that of the UK’s Portrait Artist of the Year. First a meeting to get to know the subject and to do some preliminary work-ups. Then a second session after a little time to absorb what the painter has learned about the person. I’m finding this process is already paying dividends as I work on my first preparatory study.

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I met my subject June 7th on the opposite side of the GTA at the Bronte Creek Provincial Park. I did take a number of photos to work from that day, specifically to get some understanding of the sitter’s face. To my surprise, she brought along a two-year-old who I quickly came to realize needed to be part of the picture too.

While my sitter has a considerable professional reputation — I was well aware of her impressive career in journalism before we met — I realized from our walk and talk that the portrait had to be about who she presently is, which is partly about family, and partly about finding a new life post-retirement.

For the last two weeks I have been wrestling with that first study, a small oil on board painting. The funny thing is, I am happy with the expression of the sitter which I think transcends the original photo, but a little less happy with the likeness at this point. I calculate another three hours then I will start a second study regardless of whether I nail this first attempt or not. It has already yielded a terrific amount of visual information and given some clues to what to look for in the next outing.
The more I paint her and the two-year-old grandchild, the more I become aware of the familial likeness — or am I just projecting? I am also getting to know the facial contours in some detail. The next study will be indicative of how much I really have gained from this first study.

The plan is to go back for a second session towards the end of the month, being far more careful about framing and light for a more finished painting to follow. I knew arrving at our first meeting that the time was a little too close to noon, making the light difficult to work with outdoors — at one point we did duck into a pig barn. I’m also very interested in seeing where the sitter would like to do this final session. She spoke about her affinity to trees (and presumably nature), so do we do it outside again, or do we do it inside with a reference to the outdoors, such as a view outside a window?

In preparation for the study I have been looking at dozens of portraits. Very few are outside, and of those that are, many clearly use the outdoors as a backdrop even if the subject is clearly indoors judging by the difference in light. No doubt artists feel they have much more control on the inside, but it does raise challenges and doing outdoor portraits.

My goal is to have that painting done by September 1, hopefully in time to submit it as an entry to this year’s Kingston Portrait Prize.

As for the other four paintings, they all appear to be in pursuit of elaborating on some of my earlier and more interesting efforts. That includes another “reflection” painting, this one looking into a window of a pub in Dundee, Scotland. I also am working on a larger scale painting (for me) of the Pont Du Gard in the South of France. I feel like I should be making stops along the way of some of the historical painters I admire, and a scene of bathers (in the river Gardon) seemed necessary. The one that is the furthest along is of a fleeting image seen from a train — this one mid-winter from the GO Train travelling through Scarborough, the view between Rouge Hill and Guildwood. The scores of images I have from Spain has meant at least a beginning on a view from Seville that has been calling out to me.

Much work to do this summer — but first Scotland plays Morocco this afternoon. Can’t wait.

Work in Progress — View from the GO Train between Guildwood and Rouge Hill. 24″ x 24′
Experience denied

May 28, 2026

Can you imagine a job posting that disqualifies applicants with any experience?

I recently came across a call from an art gallery looking to expand its roster of talent, limiting it to only artists who are either new grads or self-taught artists just beginning their art career.

I had heard of this before, but didn’t quite to expect to see it in writing.

A friend of mine had suggested that this was common — that galleries were simply not interested in older artists, preferring “young ones” they could sculpt in the way they wanted.

It strikes me that many well-loved figures throughout art history would have been excluded by these gallerists. Paul Gauguin was a successful stockbroker before he became an artist later in his career. Canadian abstractionist Jack Bush didn’t go back to OCA until he was well into his 30s, and worked days as a commercial artist for 41 years before retiring to pursue his art full-time. Paul Cezanne didn’t have his first solo exhibition until he was 56 years old. Celebrated photographer Vivian Maier wasn’t recognized by the art world until her negatives were found in a box after her death. Then there is the whole oeuvre of “Outsider Art,” made up of artists who never participated in the recognized art world. Henry Darger is likely the best known. He died in poverty, having worked most of his life as a janitor. His works are now selling for as much as $600,000 US.

I noticed that gallerists frequently look for consistency rather than creativity. David Hockney, one of the most celebrated artists on the planet, would certainly fail that measuring stick, his style frequently shifting as his career progressed. Known for his painting, he took four years off to pursue photographic collages. He made art works on a photocopier. He also spend years doing opera sets. He even ran a first edition print series in a newspaper. You could get an original Hockney art print for the price of a newspaper. To me, that’s about creativity, not consistency.

While Damien Hirst is best known for his assemblies around the topic of death, he has found new consistency in producing more than a thousand paintings of coloured dots. Some paintings the dots are very large. Others very small. If you have been to an art fair in recent years, you’ve likely seen one of these paintings. They are very boring, but consistent.

Welcome to the art world.

I graduated with my BFA from the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design (University) in 1987. It was clear from the moment I graduated that I would need a job to sustain myself. That was not exactly a revelation given I worked considerable hours for a design and advertising company to get through school in the first place. One thing the school didn’t prepare us for was survival as artists. I spent time as a graphic designer for a public library, then became their head of communications for a short time. I did freelance work for a number of clients, including a theatre company, a university and a union. I served as the editor of Visual Arts News (Visual Arts Nova Scotia) and briefly as the editor of NSCAD’s alumni newsletter. I made a film that was accepted in the Atlantic Film Festival’s short program. I came to Toronto and worked in the union world, joining the campaigns unit of a large public sector union where my skills could be best utilized, then became a staff representative negotiating contracts and resolving grievances before retiring. During that entire time I continued to paint, but the output was less is some years than others. Some years it was nothing at all, depending on how much my day job demanded of my energies. I retired during COVID, which was an intensely stressful experience as a union representative. After floundering around a bit post-retirement, I came back to my art, realizing that after all these years I now have the means to do so (thanks to my private pension plan).

Does that make me a mid-career artist? Or does that make me an emerging artist? Those labels can be important when defining opportunities and also when placing a price on my work. The fact that I don’t have any gallery representation is likely indicative of the latter. But can one have painted on and off for 40 years and still be considered emerging? Given my art is quickly shifting as I work close to full time (half of that time on administrative and developmental work), it is hard to say where it will lead. I don’t have anyone standing over my shoulder saying this will sell and that won’t. I do what I want, which to me seems to always work best. There’s something to be said for authenticity.

I belong to four art associations. The members I meet are often my age. I don’t know where the new grads are. Many of these artists have chosen to sell direct through their websites, frustrated with the gallery system. Some sell at artist-run events, such as the Toronto Outdoor Art Show, Riverdale Art Walk or Camp Samac here in Oshawa. I think there should be a drinking game involving artists who get together and talk about alternates to galleries. While my own site is not set up commercially, I do post prices on my gallery page and can certainly make arrangements should someone be interested in buying a piece. But there has to be a better way. I would prefer that people see my work in person before committing to buying a work of art.

So that’s my rant of the day.

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—

Meanwhile, I am back in my studio after the Scugog Studio tour at the beginning of the month. I am also back to looking at Call for Entries. Given everything I had on the go was shown at Scugog, I am now in a new rotation of paintings, so it may be a while before you see a new one posted here. . I typically work on four to five paintings at the same time, to allow myself time to refresh between layers, and also to allow the oils to dry. I am still thinking a lot about portraiture, although was recently reminded that I need to get my subjects to sign release forms should the painting actually look like them. Some exhibitors will not carry portraits otherwise. Can you imagine Vincent Van Gogh asking the Roulin family to sign release forms? We do live in interesting times. Is it any wonder artists resort to doing a lot of self-portraiture? I have had some interest in my call for portrait sitters, so we’ll see where that leads. Ideally, if it goes well, I would like to submit an entry into the Kingston Prize in September. The Kingston Prize was Canada’s bi-annual portrait competition, but it has just gone annual. The top 30 finalists do make the show, so it is worth the effort if not for the money, then for the exposure.

It is encouraging that my recent paintings are getting more of a response and showing up as sales. Unusually for me, I have sold three paintings in a little over a month. One of the new paintings I have on the go has led to a number of double-takes despite it being early days. And of course, my book is available should anyone be interested in obtaining one. Click here for more details.

I’m also spending a lot of time reading about art, currently on the 2021 Taschen book about David Hockney (hence why I know about his photocopier art). A lot of things are bubbling in my head.

If you haven’t done so already, please subscribe and you’ll be notified when I post something new. Given the way my newer work is selling, that may be useful (or not). Needless to say, you can subscribe for free.

Today’s Painting: It’s an old one from 2007 of a cottage on the Toronto Islands.

Ward’s Island Cottage 1 (2007) 11″ x 14″ Oil on Canvas
The Gauguin you likely didn’t know…

May 12, 2026
One of the New York Times recommended books from 2025 was Sue Prideaux’s Wild Thing: A Life of Paul Gauguin. Gauguin was an artist who influenced many of the most important figures in 20th Century Art, including Picasso. He was championed by Degas and his relationship with Van Gogh has been imprinted on the public’s imagination. Yet stylistically he was difficult to pin down, at first exhibiting alongside the Impressionists, then later regarded as a Post-Impressionist and a Symbolist. In addition to his painting, he is well known for his pottery and his writing. His 1892 painting of two Tahitian girls set a record at auction in 2015, selling for $300 million US, an irony given much of Gauguin’s later life was spent in financial struggle and debt. When he died, the official in charge of selling his remaining property stated that he was already “convinced that the liabilities will considerably exceed the assets, as the few pictures by the late painter, who belonged to the decadent school, have little prospect of finding purchasers.”

Having just read Prideaux’s book, I have put together a pop quiz on the life of Gauguin to wet your appetite for this excellent biography. How well do you really know this important 19th Century painter?
1. Paul Gauguin’s early childhood was not spent in France. His father was an anti-Bonapartist journalist who fled to exile when Gauguin was a little over a year old. What country did the family flee to?
  A) Italy
  B) Peru
  C) Mexico
  D) Tahiti
2. Throughout his life Gauguin was fascinated with a painting by Manet that he carried with him, pinning it up on the walls of his studio, never able to replicate it despite many efforts. Was the Manet painting (titles translated to English):
  A) A Bar At The Folies Bergere
  B) Luncheon On The Grass
  C) Olympia
  D) Execution of Emperor Maximillian
3. Gauguin returned to France and spent his late teens in Paris where the city was undergoing a massive Second Empire transformation under Georges Eugene Haussman. About 350,000 people were displaced as narrow medieval streets were replaced with Haussman’s wide boulevards. About 10% (35,000 people) among the displaced were…
  A) Immigrants
  B) Labourers
  C) Prostitutes
  D) Artists
4. Gauguin wrote publicly about this artist under a pseudonym: “When you want to discover how many hairs a donkey has on each ear and determine the colour of each, your place is in the stable rather than the studio.” Was Gauguin referring to:
  A) Seurat
  B) Courbet
  C) Degas
  D) Himself
5. Gauguin had seen an exhibition by the Painters of the Petit Boulevard at a restaurant on the Avenue de Clichy. Among the group was Vincent Van Gogh. However, the exhibition was short lived because:
  A) There was a fire at the restaurant
  B) The group was offered a better venue at Boussod, Valadon and Cie
  C) Vincent got in a fight with the dinner patrons
  D) The paintings were putting the patrons off their food.
6. When Vincent Van Gogh cut off his ear in Arles, Gauguin was…
  A) Already back in Paris
  B) Initially accused by the police of Vincent’s murder
  C) In the brothel where Vincent delivered his ear in a box
  D) Staying with Theo Van Gogh
7. About how long did Vincent Van Gogh and Gauguin famously share the yellow house in Arles? A) Two Months
  B) Six Months
  C) One Year
  D) Two Years
8. In the late 1880s Gauguin painted a number of images of Jesus while in Brittany, including the now famouse Yellow Christ. His image of Jesus was based on the likeness of…
  A) Vincent Van Gogh
  B) Theo Van Gogh, his art dealer
  C) Himself
  D) His disciple in Brittany, Meyer De Haan
9. When Gauguin represented indigenous Tahitians as Biblical characters, such as the 1891 painting la orana Maria (Hail Mary), the Catholic Church viewed it as blasphemous. It remained that way until a Papal encyclical reversed that decision in what year?
  A) 1904
  B) 1939
  C) 1951
  D) 1973
10. In February 1895 Gauguin had planned to return to Tahiti after a stay in France to show his Tahitian paintings, but the slow recovery of a leg wound and one other reason delayed his departure until July. What was the second reason?
  A) He needed to also recover from a dose of venereal disease
  B) He needed to raise more money for the voyage
  C) He needed to finish selling off his effects in Paris
  D) He awaited a ship that would take him on as crew
11. The leg wound which would torment him for the rest of his life was the result of …
  A) A beating from a group of locals in Concarneau over an incident with a child
  B) A fall from a horse in Brittany
  C) A fall off a cliff near Pont Aven during a plein aire outing
  D) A failed operation in Paris to fix his unequal legs
12. Gauguin left Tahiti in 1901 to go to the Marquesas Islands because:
  A) He was fleeing debts in Tahiti
  B) The French authorities were pressuring him to leave
  C) Tahiti had become, in his opinion, too Westernized
  D) To flee a paternity suit in Tahiti
13. Unable to afford canvas, one of his epic masterpieces, Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going? (1897-8) was painted on…
  A) Cardboard
  B) Sack Cloth
  C) Wooden Siding
  D) Table Linens he had brought from Paris
14. Gauguin died in 1903 just prior to a prison sentence of three months for…
  A) Sexual abuse of a minor
  B) Libel of a police officer he accused of taking bribes
  C) Unpaid hospital bills incurred on Tahiti
  D) Stolen Property (a chicken)
Scroll down to find the answers and see how well you did.

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The Answers: 1 (B); 2 (C); 3 (C); 4 (A); 5 (D); 6 (B); 7 (A); 8 (C); 9 (C); 10 (A); 11 (A); 12 (C); 13 (B); 14 (B)

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