“You Never Stop Learning.” These words, spoken by Mr. Van on my final day of art school, resonated deeply and have become a lifelong mantra. Initially, I interpreted them within the narrow scope of artistic development – mastering new techniques, understanding color theory, and refining my craft. However, over five decades as a working artist, I’ve discovered the profound truth that learning extends far beyond the studio and encompasses every facet of life. My artistic journey has been a continuous education, with lessons emerging from the most unexpected sources.
Alt text: An artist engrossed in painting a vibrant wheat field under a clear sky, capturing the subtle movements of nature and the small wonders within a seemingly simple landscape.
One such lesson unfolded while painting in a Massachusetts wheat field. Immersed in capturing the scene, I became acutely aware of the vibrant microcosm surrounding me. It wasn’t just about translating the golden hues of wheat onto canvas; it was about observing the intricate life teeming within that small space. Tiny mice, agile enough to climb wheat stalks without bending them, became symbols of nature’s resilience and hidden wonders. These plein air painting sessions transformed into immersive explorations of nature’s subtle details, teaching me observation skills that transcended artistic technique.
My studio models, each unique in their personality and experiences, became unexpected educators, broadening my horizons far beyond the art world. Lionel, my first professional model, a Columbia College student, was a fervent activist and preacher. Through our sessions, I was unexpectedly drawn into the complexities of the Vietnam War and the socio-political landscape of the era. Lionel’s passionate explanations of Southeast Asian history and President Kennedy’s involvement sparked a shift in my reading habits. Novels were replaced by news magazines like Time, Newsweek, and The New Yorker, as I sought to understand the world beyond my artistic bubble.
Alt text: A focused artist sketching a portrait of a ballet dancer in a relaxed pose in a sunlit studio, highlighting the dynamic between artist and model and the quiet exchange of learning.
Quiet Cathy, a ballet student seeking respite and a modest income, offered a different form of education. Drawing Cathy while listening to classical music introduced me to the demanding world of ballet and the dedication it required. Her stories about her rigorous Russian dance teacher provided glimpses into a world of discipline and artistic passion distinct from my own.
Lizette, an exchange student, offered a perspective that broadened my understanding of my own country. Through her eyes as a French young lady, I gained a fresh appreciation for aspects of American culture I had taken for granted. Our shared experiences extended beyond the studio as we volunteered at nursing homes. Pushing wheelchairs and listening to the elderly residents share their life stories was a poignant lesson in empathy and the richness of lived experiences across generations. It was during these moments, Lizette jokingly suggested I stick to pushing wheelchairs rather than singing, a lighthearted moment that underscored the value of focused engagement.
Interestingly, I noticed a tangible impact of these personal connections on my art. Portraits of Lionel became some of my most compelling works. My Chicago gallery consistently requested more drawings of Cathy, and paintings of Lizette sold quickly. Landscapes, lacking that personal connection, were often returned. This taught me that infusing my art with genuine human connection and understanding elevated it beyond mere technical skill.
This principle of continuous learning through human interaction remains relevant today. Conversations with Sylvia offer insights into the intricacies of law. Kim shares teachings of Christ, providing spiritual perspectives. Jordan imparts valuable business practices. Chenoa’s experiences illuminate the challenges of homelessness and raising autistic children with limited resources, fostering empathy and understanding of societal struggles. Even learning line dancing from Sharon or gaining a rudimentary understanding of car brakes from a mechanic – seemingly disparate experiences – contribute to a richer, more nuanced understanding of the world and the diverse skills and knowledge people possess. While I may never replace brake pads myself, understanding the process allows for more informed conversations and appreciation for skilled labor.
Alt text: A collage of diverse individuals who have served as models and mentors to the artist, showcasing a range of ages, backgrounds, and professions, emphasizing the theme of diverse learning sources.
Artist’s models, in their myriad forms, are more than just subjects; they are conduits to diverse worlds and invaluable teachers. They underscore the enduring wisdom in Mr. Van’s words: “You never stop learning.” Life itself, and particularly the human connections we forge within it, is the ultimate classroom, offering endless opportunities for growth and understanding, far beyond the confines of formal education or artistic training.
