By Christopher

Christopher Stott is a contemporary realist painter.

Steal Like an Artist

Steal Like an Artist by Austin Kleon

I can’t remember how I came across Steal Like an Artist by Austin Kleon — but somewhere someone shared it and I ran out and picked it up, so I could add it to my pile of artist self-help books I turn to when I’m feeling anxious.

It’s a great little book, with simple illustrations and clear, researched thoughts and ideas. Initially the title seems provocative, the suggestion that artists steal and there’s a manual offering guidance. It’s not the case, obviously. The book talks about how artists (and we’re talking visual artists, musicians, writers, etc) collect their ideas and influences and remix them to create their own work.

The question of originality can kind of haunt artists. Especially now, after a couple decades of the internet, ideas and images move fast and in sloppy, uncontrolled ways. Some people become fiercely protective of their perceived originality. I’ve had to become fully aware that my subject matter is easily found in vintage and antique shops across a couple continents. It’s not inconceivable that one of the hundreds of thousands of painters out there would pick up a common subject the same as mine, let the pieces fall in to place and, voila, produce a painting similar to mine. Eventually we’ll find each other and wonder who came up with the idea first.

Even if we come up with our own ideas and stumble upon other artists work that is very similar to ours, the fact remains we did pick up our own influences along the way. As long as you’re honest about where your ideas come from, you’re golden.

Steal Like an Artist by Austin Kleon
Steal Like an Artist by Austin Kleon

The Influential Vermeer

I often wonder how it’s possible an artist living and working today can say Vermeer, who lived and worked 365 years ago, could be an influence. Isn’t there too much time, space or cultural differences between the two for there to be anything in common?

Yet in the video from The School of Life I get a sense that there is a continuity with Vermeer’s life in Delft centuries ago to life now. At least there is for me. At least I’m able to sense it. For the last ten years, I’ve felt that my life as a painter and my family life in my home has worked in increasing tandem. It’s one of the reasons I consider Vermeer an influence. Not only his paintings and technique, but the parallels I think might be in the way we worked in his home surrounded by his family.

…a plain white wall can be a major source of delight.

I watched Tim’s Vermeer a few months ago. I found it frustrating the way Tim dedicated so much time to constructing Vermeer’s space and frantically wracked his brain to find cheats and hacks for painting. How could such a smart man with so much time and money completely miss the point of what Vermeer was doing? To become so obsessed over the technical that you utterly miss the meaning of the paintings.

It was sad the way Tim wanted to give up on his Vermeer hack toward the end. Perhaps Tim would have had an Oscar-worthy documentary if he started out trying to crack Vermeer’s code and ended up on a 10, 15 or 20 year journey as an artist making his own unique work based on his own observations on the world around him.

The Milkmaid by Vermeer
The Milkmaid by Johannes Vermeer / c.1657–1658

Typewriters in Progress

A classic Corona No.3 typewriter from around 1912 — almost like they wanted someone to paint a portrait of it. When industrial design was guided by the mechanics of the machine.

Christopher Stott Corona No.3 Painting
Corona No.3 / work in progress
Tom Thumb typewriter painting.
Tom Thumb / work in progress

I also have a Tom Thumb “toy” typewriter for the 1950s in the works.

Vintage Film Projector in Progress

More vintage film projector in the works.

Today I’m going to work on refining details, surface texture and laying down more shadows to give depth.

I bought this projector years ago. It was in a case, and I completely forgot about it. It ended up mixed up with all the other vintage luggage that I’ve collected over the years. During my recent move, I picked up the case and could not figure out why it was so heavy. Opening up the case was like that experience when you find cash in your spring jacket pocket after a year.

M8_wip

It’s Story Time – Why I Paint Books

The first time I started painting books, they were simply used as props. I had very traditional still life subjects (fruit and the like). Books were simply there to add some new dimension to the paintings.

I first started by using my own hard cover books with the sleeves taken off. You can see some of my early book paintings herehere, and here.

My own library of books had no character. They were clean, crisp and new. My mother-in-law has an amazing collection of books in her library. I borrowed some of her antique books and started using them — check the early ones out here, here and here.

Then it dawned on me. Some of the books from my MIL’s collection had these fantastic titles. The books once belonged to a young law student who was studying in 1905. These ethics and philosophy books took my work in an all new direction. The books were not just props. They were the context, the narrative, the reason to paint.

I made my way to one of the antique shops I frequent and stumbled upon a children’s primary reader It’s Story Time. Felt like magic. I was able to juxtapose the book with the lofty legal tomes. An interesting dichotomy. You wait for something like this to come your way when you paint for years. Something that you know is yours, and becomes direction that you can follow for years.

The first four paintings using It’s Story Time were with my MILs antique legal books.

It's Story Time I, II, III, IV
It’s Story Time I, II, III, IV

Then I began collecting children’s primary readers. I’d pop in to antique and vintage shops and pick up the odd primary school book. Slowly adding to my collection. Using them to tell the stories in my paintings. Using the books to add colour, ideas, structure to my work.

Authenticity is something people can feel and understand in an artists work. The few times I’ve been asked to invent or fudge book titles, it felt wrong. It’s not what I want to do as an artist.

Having the actual books makes the work authentic. I’ve done many book paintings and I’ll continue. They really do feel like my own unique offering to the vast world of painting and art.

Detail / V – #5 in the It’s Story Time Series
Detail
Detail / Names and dates from people I know

I put details in to the books that make the paintings more autobiographical. My children’s names in place of publishers imprints, anniversary dates, all these bring your work to a different level. In a way, these details breath life in to painting.

When you paint in a realist style and most people are looking at your work via a computer, iPad or smartphone screen, I always here “wow, that’s so realistic! I can’t believe it’s not a photo!”

When I’m standing with someone looking at the actual painting in my studio or in a gallery, they see my work is far more painterly and looser than they first thought.

progress
In progress / November 2012
Nearly complete / February 2013
The books have become like old familiar friends
American Art Collector June 2013. It's nice when your efforts get recognised.
American Art Collector June 2013. It’s nice when your efforts get recognised in print.

George Billis Gallery LA – January 2015

I have several recent paintings showing at the George Billis Gallery in Los Angeles from January 10 through February 14, 2015.

I find it remarkable that I was able to make any new work at all, considering how insane the last 8 months of my life has been.

It all started when we prepared our house for sale. We decided we were going to move 1,000 miles to a warmer climate. It’s no small undertaking to downsize your belongings after a decade of life in a house. With kids. While you’re still trying to make paintings. But we did it. We sold our house in a mere 3 days and then had to prepare to move. Another massive undertaking with more downsizing.

We hunted for a home, under the impression that we’d simply sell our beloved home and find its equivalent 1,000 miles away in a city we knew little about. Instead we ended up hunting for a suitable place to rent. Finding a place to rent wasn’t as hard as we thought and renting meant we could learn about our new city, make friends, relax and casually look for a home to call our own.

It didn’t happen that smoothly. Although the house we rented was great, the other tenant who lived in the ground floor suite was one of the worst possible tenants anyone could ever imagine living near. It shocked us. I’ll spare the gory details, but if there’s one thing I learned with the experience, it’s that you never, ever want to get on the bad side of an activist call girl (“luxury companion” as she referred to herself as) and her drug dealer boyfriend. It was bad. And my innocent, wonderfully naïve family had some major life lessons we didn’t ever expect would come our way.

And then we found a home. In a quiet, safe, wonderful neighbourhood. With a great big studio. And everything turned around. And we’ve made wonderful friends and found out things can be just as good as you once imagined.

So we packed up and moved from our interesting rental. Again, upending everything in our lives. Yet I managed to find time to do what I do best. Time to sit in my studio and quietly work on my quiet paintings.

The World Around Us / 48 x 24 / Oil on Canvas
The World Around Us / 48 x 24 / Oil on Canvas

 

Baggage IX / 30 x 30 / Oil on Canvas
Baggage IX / 30 x 30 / Oil on Canvas

 

painting
Six Kodaks / 18 x 36 / Oil on Canvas

 

Three Kodaks / 18 x 36  / Oil on Canvas
Three Kodaks / 18 x 36 / Oil on Canvas

 

Friends Far and Near / 30 x 30 / Oil on Canvas
Friends Far and Near / 30 x 30 / Oil on Canvas

Dead. Simple. Technology.

There was a time when these old cameras were so prevalent and pervasive in our culture. They were all the rage.

Kodak used slick advertising promising happiness and fulfilment — just take a look at these 100 year old advertisements.


I’m not going to state the obvious, I’ll let you piece together the connections with our own modern consumer culture, all promising the exact same thing Kodak offered a century ago.


Eventually Kodak became irrelevant, unable to move fast enough with the speed of technology. I’m left to ponder the future of the companies that now feed us our technology and gadgets. What will become of them over the next 70 to 100 years?


Vintage shops are now full of these cameras. Intricate designs, all iterations on the same simple process. They make for great compositions — the square cameras, the multiple round lenses and textures of the surfaces.


These paintings are currently showing at Art Essex Gallery in Essex, Connecticut from October 1 – 25, 2014.


Twelve Vintage Cameras
18″ x 24″ – Oil/Canvas – 2014


Eight Vintage Cameras
24″ x 24″ – Oil/Canvas – 2014


Seven Vintage Cameras
20″ x 20″ – Oil/Canvas – 2014