Interview by Allison Malafronte

Jolly Jane 2007, oil, 40 x 60. Collection Hammer Galleries, New York, New York.

American Artist: Please talk a little bit about your art training, specifically the influential role your father played in inspiring you to become an artist.

Joseph McGurl: I should preface my responses by saying that I know many artists will disagree with some of the things I say. This is good, and as it should be. If everyone agreed with my views, everyone would be painting like me and art would be very boring.

Glimmer 2008, oil, 30 x 40. Collection Hammer Galleries, New York, New York.

Since I was about 5 years old, I knew that I wanted to become an artist. This was probably because my father was one, and it seemed natural, and I liked to draw. As well as being a role model, my father helped me correct my drawings when I couldn’t see why they didn’t look right. As a teenager, I helped him with his work, which included murals, marbleizing, stenciling, statue painting, wood graining, decorative painting, architectural rendering, monument designing, and pretty much anything having to do with paint. I mostly painted in backgrounds, cleaned brushes, mixed paint, and performed other associated tasks. I also became comfortable with using paint and exploiting its associated qualities at an early age. Probably the most profound impact my father had on me was his dedicated work ethic. He had to figure out a way to support a family of seven and was able to do it by his talent and hard work. We worked long days.   

Across the Sea 2007, oil, 24 x 36. Private collection.

Throughout my teenage years, I attended the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston Saturday classes under Ralph Rosenthal. He was another role model who, among many other things, taught me to analyze what I was drawing or painting to better understand and portray it in a more convincing manner, which was important to me. I attended Massachusetts College of Art and Design and graduated with a dual major in education and painting. There really wasn’t a lot of the academic emphasis on the basics of drawing and painting, and I felt my education was incomplete. Later, I found out about the Boston School disciples and their approach to drawing, which was based on the teachings of the French Academy. This approach to drawing evolved over hundreds of years to become a very effective method of training students to see clearly and draw accurately. I studied figure drawing under Robert Cormier, and it really became a turning point in my ability to express what I was after.

Great Marsh at Sunset 2003, oil, 24 x 36. Private collection.

AA: After studying figure drawing with Robert Cormier, what led you to the genre of landscape?

JM: In my younger years, I painted, sculpted, made prints, and did all kinds of art projects. Gradually the types of art and materials that gave me the most satisfaction trumped the ones I found less interesting. I received the most emotional feedback from landscapes and decided not to spend time on less enthralling work. If I’m not totally committed to what I’m painting, it loses its excitement, and I think the lack of passion becomes obvious. Although I enjoy figure drawing, it really was a means to an end. I wanted to draw better, and the method taught by the Boston School artists is the best way to do that.   

Lifting Fog, Cadillac Mountain 2006, oil, 36 x 60. Private collection.

AA: How long did you study art in England and Italy? Was it during this time that you became interested in the traditional, Old Master approach to painting?

JM: These were summer programs I took in college. The England trip was at the University of London. Unfortunately, the fine-art department was not well run and turned out disappointing. The art history was better. The real value was going to the museums and seeing the Constables and Turners. I also went to Holland to see the Dutch masters.  This was when I realized that I could learn so much more from studying the art in the museums. The trip to Italy was run by Boston University and was excellent. The art-history professor, Sam Edgerton, was one of the best teachers I ever had. Once again, I became engrossed in the work in the museums. This taught me that the best way to approach my art was to learn from those who came before me and try to advance it a little while also developing my own identity. 

Rippled Water 2002, oil, 24 x 36. Private collection.

AA: Artists often admire your work for your ability to capture light and create luminosity and atmosphere. How would you summarize how you do this, both from a technique standpoint as well as how you approach your work mentally?

JM: The technical aspects of painting light and atmosphere are fairly straightforward. It really comes down to mixing the right color and value for a particular location in the illusionary space in the painting. Sometimes I will modify a passage with a glaze or a scumble. I also use texture, or the lack thereof, to help define space and light. One of the things I learned from the masters is that thick paint helps bring objects forward and makes light objects appear brighter, so I will frequently use this “trick.” Thin, transparent paint gives depth to a painting. The importance of the exactness of color and value becomes obvious to me when I see a reproduction of some of my paintings. Sometimes a particular color or value will not reproduce correctly, and it jumps out of its position in space.

Sword Fishing Off Nantucket 2008, oil, 16 x 20. Collection Robert Wilson Galleries, Nantucket, Massachusetts.

Mentally, it is really important to envision the scene in three dimensions. I have spent years studying the landscape and trying to understand what is happening and why. For instance, an object’s color changes as it recedes into the distance differently at sunset than it does at midday. By understanding how space and light affect color and value you can exaggerate or minimize colors in order to push the depth even more. Remember, you are trying to paint a three-dimensional space on a flat surface and the light of the sun with just pigments, so you can’t just paint what you see.  You have to paint what you know too in order to exploit all the possibilities.

AA: Please describe your connection to/love of the sea, including your “floating studio,” The Atelier.

Passing the Jetty 2008, oil, 23 x 25. Collection Robert Wilson Galleries, Nantucket, Massachusetts.

JM: I grew up on the water and spent my summers swimming, boating, and exploring the nearby islands and coves. There are probably psychological reasons why I have such a strong connection to the ocean but there are also artistic ones. The ocean and coastline have so many aspects of what interests me intellectually and visually about our world.  There is endless space and wonderful light, which is one of the primary subjects in my art. It is not a static environment. The sun, tide, wind patterns, cloud formations, are changing by the minute. I am also drawn to the challenge of trying to paint the ocean’s depth, reflection, transparency, weight, and motion.

Ice Floes 2008, oil, 30 x 40. Collection Hammer Galleries, New York, New York.

I have been painting from boats since I was a teenager. In my early 20s I worked as a yacht captain and have used painting vessels since then. The Atelier is the latest. It is a 44-foot-long ketch rigged sailboat. It was built in 1965 and has nice, classic lines. So many modern boats are ugly and look more like kitchen appliances than boats. My family and I spend the greater part of the summer sailing around New England, and I paint very frequently from on board, or I take the dinghy to shore and paint from the land looking out. Sailing gives me a better understanding of my subject.

AA: What is your plein air process? How important it is to you to create on-site studies and sketches, as opposed to using photographs as reference for your studio work?

Island Road 2004, oil, 30 x 36. Private collection.

JM: I am trying to portray my response to the real world—not a flat visual representation of it. I am trying to paint the whole tree, even the side you can’t see. I am also trying to paint a living tree that will die in the winter and bloom again in the spring. Science has taught us that space and time are not static and that on the subatomic level there is a frenzy of activity. Knowing this, I cannot paint from a photo that is devoid of all these realities. I am also trying to understand nature in the most complete way possible, and studying it intently while interpreting it in paint is the most effective way I know to accomplish this. The challenge of going into the field with just my paints and coming away with a useful picture is also appealing. Sometimes I don’t have enough time to capture a certain effect, but that’s just the way it goes. It’s difficult relying on just my own observations, and it may seem easier to paint from photos, but my goal isn’t to do it the easiest way, but the best way. Like everyone, I sometimes have tendencies to be lazy, and if I know I have a photo to back me up, I may not look as hard or work as long at the sketch as I should. Finally, as an artist friend of mine said, “Every third grader knows that it’s cheating to copy pictures.” (See preface above)

Horseflies at Osprey 2006, oil, 24 x 36. Private collection.

AA: For those artists who are unable to get a highly coveted spot in one of your two annual workshops, please give them an overview of what you focus on in a typical workshop.

JM: I try to help the participants see the landscape in more simplified terms and show them some practical tricks I have learned to make it easier to paint outdoors. There is so much information to sort out. I believe plein air painting is the hardest form of art to master. In addition to the usual concerns of conception, composition, drawing, value, and color, plein air painters have an infinite amount of detail to simplify. The range of value is not nearly wide enough to paint the brightness of the sun or the depth of a shadow, and how does one paint five miles of distance, the movement of waves, or all the leaves on a tree? Additionally, the light is constantly changing, it may be hot or windy, the sun is in your eyes, and you have to limit your supplies to the bare essentials. 

Mist 2007, oil, 18 x 24. Collection Hammer Galleries, New York, New York.

In my workshops, I start with an overview of my painting process and show the students my painting gear and things that have made the procedure a little easier. Then I address through demos and critiques some of the main problems most participants have in painting the landscape. An example is that they loose sight of the fact that every object has a definite form. A rock and a tree have similar underlying forms. The superficial surface textures confuse them. I discuss the importance of seeing the true form of the object and then devising shorthand ways of implying the texture of that object. I also spend a lot of time on linear and atmospheric perspective in order to help them create depth in the painting. I will usually do a demo in the morning and then they work on their paintings in the afternoon. I spend at least one demo session in the studio showing the mechanical process of making a studio painting out of a sketch. I also show some of the unique tools I sometimes use and discuss how I’ve set up the studio. This demonstration includes some methods of manipulating paint, such as glazing, impasto, and scrafitto.

Bridge at Hadley 2008, oil, 18 x 24. Collection Trees Place Gallery, Orleans, Massachusetts.

AA: Do you think it’s possible to teach artists to paint at the level of skill and ability you have achieved? Is that transferable, or do you think it’s something you’re innately born with?

JM: I think it’s a little of both. You have to have some talent and you have to have some training. You also have to work really hard at it for a long time. Just as doctors or plumbers have to pay their dues, artists do too. When I look back at the work I was doing in my 20s, it was really bad, but it eventually improved.

AA: What landscape artists, past and present, do you admire? 

JM: Past artists include Fredric Edwin Church, Sanford Gifford, Worthington Whittredge, John F. Kensett, J.M.W. Turner, Arthur Streeton, John Singer Sargent, and Hugh Bolton Jones.  For contemporary artists, Andrew Wyeth, Jamie Wyeth, Antonio García López, Don Demers, William Davis, Matt Smith, Marcia Burtt, Ken Auster.

Eagle Lake, Mt. Desert 2006, oil, 24 x 36. Private collection.

AA: What inspires you most as an artist? Where/to what do you turn for creative motivation?

JM: I sometimes become inspired by seeing a show at a gallery or museum. When I’m painting outside with other artists, I’m inspired by how they will take a different approach to the same scene. Also, nature in all its forms—sometimes with the imprint of man—is probably the most inspiring way for me to become excited about painting.

To get motivated creatively I just go to work. Sometimes I have been thinking about a particular problem all night, and if I think I’ve found the solution, I get excited about the coming day’s work. Other times I don’t feel particularly creative but I have to be productive. I go about my work and often the inspiration comes after a while. Sometimes these end up being my best days, and the day passes too quickly. 

McGurl will be having a solo exhibition titled “Joseph McGurl: Recent Paintings” October 2 through October 25 at Hammer Galleries, in New York City. For more information, visit www.hammergalleries.com. For more information on McGurl’s recent works and upcoming workshops, visit his website at www.josephmcgurl.com.

Read the feature article on McGurl from Workshop magazine.

Comments

I first saw your paintings several years ago in American Art Review. You are my favorite contemporary landscape artist. Your work is really beautiful, extraordinary, and inspirational.

I love nautical paintings and you have done an excellent job of capturing the essence of salt water and fresh water boating. Absolutely beautiful. I hope to use one as my desktop background.

just wondering why my comment was removed.

I'm awed and inspired by the welcoming glow of all the paintings. The fact that the luminescense is not static and changes form in each of the paintings makes the experience new to each subject.

I have found that by painting landscapes that most of what we see is reflecting something else.The sky always seems to play some factor in this. usually a large one.It adds a multitude of greys to every landscape. If you really study an orange and red fall landscape you will notice that in most lights that it is mostly grey.I can see that you understand this by the way you approach color. I find getting that balance right is usually what makes a painting work. I think most of what you paint works for that reason.I'm confused by your statement "even a third grader knows that coping pictures is cheating".I was wondering if you care to clarify that statement. You seem to use a camera only as a reference tool as do many successful artists since Carrivagio used the camera obsura in the 16th century.Since you are not copying just the photo as a painting and you are using it as a departure point to help certain aspects of your painting why do you refer to that as cheating? I agree it's sometimes hard to go beyond Kodac's choice of color or the way those colors and camera lense distort the process of turning the 3D world into a 2D world. But it is only distorted to your tastes and what you saw when you took the photo.( if you can remember that vividly).It's the artists eye and memory that is superior to the camera's lense and film. Or at least it should be. If anything a photo in the hands of an artist with that kind of vision is a handicap to be overcome quite the opposite of a cheating ploy. To be any kind of success working from photos you need to go way beyond the what those photos have to offer. Every good artist knows that, but probably not many third graders.

Thanks Tim, for taking the time to read the article and respond. As far as using a camera goes, I don't use one. All my work is derived from my location sketches, memory or imagination. I know that many artists use cameras and that's fine for them and there are some great paintings done using photos. Personally, it doesn't work for what I am trying to do. In addition to the comments I made in the interview, the camera records information that has nothing to do with my art. It seems too result orientated, and for me, the process of discovery and creating the art is more important than the resulting art itself. As for the quote of my friend that "every third grader knows that copying pictures is cheating, I just think it's a funny quote. I also thought it might stir up some good conversation and maybe it has. For some artists, I don't think it's wrong to use photos. When I worked with my Dad, we used reference photos all the time, especially when we had to paint a picture of sanpans in Shanghai Harbor for a chinese restaurant. Beginning artists can learn a lot from using photos and more especially, copying the old masters. I do think that there is an over dependence on photos from professional artists. I think this is a real problem in contemporary realism. Some shows look like photography shows rather than painting shows. However this is only my opinion and as I said in my first sentence of the interview, other artists are supposed to disagree with me. In a way all artists are egotistical because they think they are using the best methods to make their art. They would be idiots if they thought there was a better way and they were not using it. Hey this blogging is kind of fun, it's the first time I've done it.
Good luck with your art, Tim

Hey Joe! Thanks for the quick response.I didn't know you read these things. I enjoy sharing ideas with other artists and this is a subject I've made a career of ,literally.I agree that the camera has both improved and caused problems for contemporary realism.On one hand it seems it like these landscapes are coming from a place we don't inhabit, so surreal in a way that feels good and on the other they seem like they can't get passed the photo they worked from and it's a boring photo at that! (And not even a good boring).Like they just didn't care. One of the complaints I read about most with photo realist works is the paintings are painted technically well but lack substance. Most of them seem to be seem to be paintings about nothing.Kind of like reality TV.Yeah It's sort of entertaining in a voyeuristic way but that's about it-see one you've seen them all. This is probably because the artist got lulled asleep by the photo as end product as (I think) you eluded to in your comment. They think all they have to do is make a good copy and it's enough. I think this is the problem all realist painters even plein air painters face in their quest for their own voice that others might want to hear. Most never find it. But I don't think it is the camera that is the problem, I think it is the artist (whether it be photographer or painter) using it.I've been seeing some awesome photographs lately. I like what you said about photos being too result oriented. By that do you mean that the photos lead you away from your thoughts on a scene and into their own end? I think that could be why you find your friend's statement about "copying photos is cheating" as funny as you do. It's because the cheating is on yourself. Simply coping the photo and not being able to play off of and go beyond the photo is one thing that I struggle with on every painting and throughout the painting. I've seen very few photo/super realists capable of getting well beyond the photos and into their own style with something of substance to say.It's rare in any style of painting no matter what you are playing off of.The one thing I love about working with photos is how they afford me the chance to combine elements from a file of thousands of landscape photos I've taken into my own personal landscape of my design.I think this is the best quality working from photos has for finding my own style thru stronge designs.(It seems to be taking forever to find them however). May I ask what you think has been your most successful painting to date and how it relates to what you are trying to accomplish with your painting? Is there a way for you post it somehow?As an aside-I've always thought a good ongoing article for a magazine would be where an artist of high stature (knowledge)in the art world interviews another artist of high stature (knowledge). Imagine the things that could be learned from sitting in on a conversation between A. Wyeth and Odd Nerdrum! Good luck with your show in Oct.

Thanks so much for your kind remarks about my work. It's very encouraging. Best wishes for your upcoming show.

Joe, your work is just beautiful. On your works in progress page, I have to say that you definitely interpreted the scene amazingly - a grand improvement on the photograph - it's just lovely.

I couldn't find a way to contact you other than here, so I was wondering if I might be able to link to you from my blog - I will be adding a small thumbnail beside each artists' name and would like your permission to do so. Would you be able to email me?

thank you for sharing your work with us!

Rebecca

Dear Joseph,

I've admired your paintings for many,many years. Thanks for taking the time to let us further into your thought and working process.

I do love the fact that you are able to say so much without working from photos. I think I'll try out working from life studies just to see where it takes me... although, I know I'll fall flat on my face at first, maybe it'll open some new doors for me.
Thanks again!
Lori