The Art of Tenaya Sims

Tenaya. Who?

You can't find much about him online, unless it pertains to his teaching at The  Georgetown Atelier in Seattle, a school he founded about seven years ago, tucked away in the corner of an old brick brewery building. No website, very little social media presence, very little press. So how on earth did I find this guy with the weird name? Glad you asked!

Let's hop in the DeLorean and time travel to 2007, where I am scoping out a potential studio space on the second floor of a historic building in the odd and wonderful neighborhood of Georgetown in south Seattle. As I'm looking at a space in the collective known as Georgetown Art Center, one of the studio doors pops open and this young, swaggering1 guy steps out. The GAC director introduces me to one of her art tenants, Tenaya Sims. "Go check out his work," she waves me into his space, "it's breathtaking". I walk in and am met with oil paintings of such pristine quality, I can't believe this guy actually painted them. He explains he recently graduated from the Juliette Aristides atelier, and I'm doubly impressed. After all, she literally wrote the books on atelier drawing and painting. I realized at that moment that this was the place I needed to be; all the art in this space was fantastically good, and I needed to be surrounded by really good works.

"Thistle", oil on canvas. I got to know Tenaya at about this time.

Not too long after that, Tenaya asked me if I'd consider modeling for a painting he was working on. It wasn't a nude gig so I agreed, and it was about this time we started to interact a little more than just saying hello. He was in his late 20s at the time, and a very confident realist painter, although he was still exploring the direction he wanted to go with his work. He was working as a part-time instructor at the Fall City Arts studio, something that he expanded into the Georgetown Atelier  a couple years later, taught by Tenaya other graduates from his full time program. He truly believed anyone with the will to study could learn classical technique in drawing and painting, and I wound up taking lessons from Tenaya, as I knew my own technique needed some updating.

"Maquette", oil on linen on board. I also modeled for this one, and actually worked on the painting while he was out of the country (he was putting it into the A/NT Gallery "Pain" show of 2014 but couldn't finish on time). Its signed by the both of us.

Soon after, he and I became friends. We have a funny friendship: we're both incredibly stubborn, so arguments, often heated, erupt on a regular basis. But like a tropical storm, it blows over quickly and within just a few minutes we'll interact as if nothing happened. Sometimes his playful natures extends into extreme pestering, in which case my bossy, older-sister side responds (think Linus and Lucy van Pelt). We both like to be right, but when it comes to painting and drawing, he most definitely knows what he's talking about, and I'll defer to him. The results in my current painting process speaks to this.

"The Birth of Venus", oil on linen. It's over 8 feet in width and took over a year to paint.

Okay, we'll hop back into the DeLorean and its 2015. Tenaya had been working out all the kinks in his first major oversized piece, The Birth of Venus, and began working on his next one, the current Semillas. I had just gotten back from Spectrum Fantastic Art Live in Kansas City, and I met up with Tenaya for coffee. I was gushing about how awesome the trip was and all the amazing people I met, and talked about the kinds of shows I wanted to book. Tenaya asked me if he could show with me; I was taken aback, mostly because Tenaya has always been a realist painter and I am hardly the typical classical establishment.  He quickly reminded me of his years working in the video game industry storyboarding and concepting, followed by a BFA at Carnegie Mellon (including working with Randy Pausch) before training under Jeff Watts and Juliette. Okay, okay, point taken!! I made him swear that he would be able to complete a body of work in time - he swore he would - and if so, he had a year to prepare.

"The Birth of Venus", detail

When Tenaya works on a major piece, regardless of size, he makes many many little studies, whether from a live model, photographic reference or a combination of the two. From these, he'll work on his values, creating several monochromatic drawings and paintings to gauge just the right set of values and tones for his work. He'll hunt out additional resource images -- a tree, a cloud, the ocean -- and with all these he starts to build up his composition, usually in Photoshop, first seaming together photographic reference, then digitally painting the composition,  working out color, temperature, and layout. He'll paint several color studies, working back and forth digitally to traditionally. From all of this, he'll then start on the actual painting process, which is quite academic in nature. All said, for his oversized works the process can take up to a year on a given painting, but the result is worth every minute.

Once Tenaya worked out the composition on a smaller scale, he could then tackle the final canvas

Women are predominant subjects for him; classically, the female figure, especially the nude, represents all that is beautiful. Tenaya takes particular influence from his ancestral Italy, with artists such as Caravaggio, Michelangelo and Botticelli fueling his imagination. He is also a great admirer of later artists, such as the Victorian painters Waterhouse and Bouguereau, whose sublime skintones move even the smallest of hearts. To render the female figure to her greatest attributes (which goes beyond her physical features) is the goal of all classically trained artists. She is powerful, serene, motherly, earth-shattering, impish, sexy, a goddess.  The nude, as opposed to a clothed model, is timeless; she is neither ancient nor contemporary.

William Bouguereau, "The Birth of Venus", 1879. Venus' skin reflects the pearlescence of the oyster shell. Bougureau defined English beauty during his lifetime.

 Working with Indo-European mythical themes, Tenaya's newest works reflect the various divine roles that women have played. With "Venus", its quite apparent; up rises Venus in the half shell, however, she is dark skinned, more somber. Below her in the foam are seemingly lifeless women; this new Venus replaces older and outdated definitions of what is beautiful and desirable. In "Semillas" (meaning "seed" in Spanish), Tenaya works with the power of the great goddess Kali, who is in a midpoint fall (or perhaps rise?). Hot, slag-like fiery sparks fall from the sky, each contained a tiny, perfect figure in a fetal position. She represents the destruction and rebirth that Kali is revered for, in dramatic, epic form.

"Semillas", oil and 23k gold leaf on panel. This piece is 72 x 101".

"Semillas", detail

Tenaya made the attempt to finish a third oversized painting, having to stop prior to completion due to the constraints of time. We are displaying it anyway, giving the visitor a rare peek at a painting in mid-process. As-yet unnamed, this third painting depicts a woman fighting an anthropomorphic lion, their manes flowing into one another and terminating into a tail of feathers. Does the lion represent the Nemean lion of Greek mythology, defeated by Hercules and eventually becoming the constellation Leo? I'm not really sure, but it does a respectful nod to Rubens' rendition of this mythic battle..

Working on the as-yet unnamed oversized painting

Peter Paul Rubens, "Hercules Strangling the Nemean Lion", 1639.

Tenaya has several smaller works, such as the modestly sized "Linea" (55 x 38.5") or the portrait "Huyen", and all of them are exquisite. I don't believe Tenaya is done with big paintings, though. In fact, I think they're going to get bigger, grander.

"Linea", oil on linen mounted on panel.

 

"Huyen", oil on linen mounted on panel.

You can tell he enjoys the process of working in larger scale. The brush strokes are a little looser as the size grows but no less mindful and exacting. To see his newest pieces is an experience; we've deliberately opened up the gallery floor to allow the visitor to step back at least fifteen feet and drink in the work.  Its very powerful, and I've had more than one visitor come back to the gallery with friends in tow, standing back to enjoy the looks their friends make when addressing these paintings.

Krab Jab Studio makes use of open space

He definitely rolled up his sleeves and went to work this last year, and his solo show of thirteen drawings and paintings is tight, beautifully painted, and exciting, which is the last adjective you'd consider for a realist painter of classical bend. He's taking on narratives, crossing that bridge between conservative realism to imaginative realism, a journey of which he's an enthusiastic participant. As his friend, I'm excited for him, and as his curator, I'm quite pleased.

So why isn't there a website for him, or much of an online presence? He doesn't like to think about those things; he finds the internet to be highly distracting, and if it weren't for his school's site, he would do without the web, with the exception of TED Talks, visual research or streaming radio. Getting him to do anything beyond teaching, eating or painting is sometimes a futile task (he will, however, take you up on a game of squash if asked).
~ Julie Baroh, June 2016

"The Art of Tenaya Sims" runs through July 2nd at Krab Jab Studio. For sales inquiries please contact Natalia Fedoruk.

Sara Winters: Rituals

Sara Winters (nee Betsy) is a relatively new artist on the scene. She illustrates in the gaming industry, and although proficient with digital painting, the girl can paint traditionally like an old hand. Recently established as a coordinator for the local salon-styled artist cafe The Conservatory, she runs their life drawing sessions and is often among the packed house of artists, drawing and painting to her hearts content.

"Innocence - I", oil on board

Sara and Cynthia Sheppard are close friends and it seemed a no-brainer to have them come up with a two-woman show. They chose the theme of "rituals" and went to work on a series of personal pieces in traditional medium for this show. What emerged from both is a body of work that is dark, mysterious, and in many ways deeply mythological in terms of the feminine mystique.

For Sara, she chose the path of the ritual of the hidden. Her model is nude, exposed, and raw, with nothing but a white veil and a silver necklace. The figure is clearly struggling internally, her body and face twisting, searching, and although she does address the viewer, the viewer is more like a voyeur in her transformation. We are only given hints of the narrative, leaving us to figure out what is happening as the series of images play out before us.

"Escape - V", oil on board

Sara played out her series much like a storyboard, but deliberately leaves out conclusive connectors. We are left to our own devices of imagination, which plays out as either redemption or resolve. The veil represents that which is tucked away from the human ego, forcing us (or perhaps the figure) to seek out the truth of our existence, be it ugly or liberating. Much like the tarot's High Priestess (who sits in front of the veil of truth), there is a mythological thread that runs underneath Sara's work, an esoteric and magical reality that we often ignore in our everyday existence. If we could only see what is really behind the veil, we can see the real truth of ourselves.

Possession, graphite on paper

Sara is clearly a talented and skilled painter and her drawing skills are top notch. In that regard, she sits comfortably with many other skilled painters I come across. What pulls her ahead is her use of tension in her work, and her fearlessness of addressing the part of the feminine experience that isn't exactly a beautiful thing. It's dark without being overly literal, and there is a slice of hope in the darkness, the possibility of release. This kind of narrative is difficult to achieve, especially for a young artist. Sara nails it out of the gate.

"Rituals" opens Saturday, May 14th and runs through June 4th. Sara will be in attendance at the opening, along with Cynthia Sheppard. The online catalog goes live the evening of May 14th.

~Julie

Studio Visit with Tenaya Sims

It's not often I get to stop in to visit an artist while they're working on a show for me, so I took up the offer to come by and take photos of Tenaya Sims while he worked on one of his oversized paintings.

"Lysandra", oil and gold leaf

Tenaya is both an old hat and a rising talent. Inspired by his time with Jeff Watts (it seems that all of Jeff's young students move on to big careers!), Tenaya packed up his car and traveled from California to Washington to train under Juliette Aristides in her newly established atelier at Gage Academy. He quickly became a protege of hers - he even has examples of his work in her Drawing Atelier book - and soon after graduating her atelier, he struck out on his own and built up his successful school, the Georgetown Atelier, which takes up most of his time. The fact that he's been able to work on his monumental paintings, run workshops, AND teach classical drawing and painting is pretty amazing, but he's lamented that all this activity caused his pursuit with gallery work to come to a virtual standstill.

In his studio

I totally get it. Being an artist myself, I have to sacrifice my painting and drawing to keep running the gallery. When I get home, after I feed dogs, feed myself, interact with the husband, walk dogs, clean up some kind of doggie mess, go through mail, check messages...honestly I have little energy left to do my creative work. I'm spent, and as I grow older, I have less of that spontaneous up-all-night-painting energy I had when I was younger. Tenaya is younger and far more energetic, but he's also very devoted to his students and their education in the arts and willingly sacrifices his time to ensure they get good training. The resulting effect is twofold: his students are out-of-the-box engaged in their professional pursuits (many have proven solid in the art world), but he hasn't had a show in nearly ten years.

"Maquette", oil on panel

That's about to change for him.  He's actually shown with us a couple of times (his "Maquette" painting was part of our 2014 Pain show) and received a really positive response, but this show is a landmark solo show and he's put everything out there for it. He wants to prove that he's more than a good instructor, that he's more than just "talented" or skilled as a realist painter. He wants to prove he's more than just a realist painter, that he also has that genius qualifier called "vision". It's not just that his paintings are big and grand, that he can render out a beautiful figure, that he fully understands the science of composition; there are lots of painters out there that can do the same. In this show, he examines his own relationship with the feminine through the mythological looking glass, opening himself up in the process. The results are beautiful, and in some ways very raw and vulnerable.

Working on his newest painting. The painting transfer is at the left.

These are dangerous times for artists with vision. With public shaming at an all-time high and a make-it-or-break-it attitude of the general populous, it can be a career-killer for an artist to express themselves to society in an honest and authentic way. Being a male artist, and expressing oneself using the nude female figure in context, is even more daunting. Many realist painters go the safe route: they do figure studies in classical style, avoiding as much connotation as possible. Tenaya can whip those puppies out in a heartbeat, mostly because its a technical drawing from a live nude model, and he works alongside his students on a regular basis. While you can clearly see he enjoys the process and addresses the figure with respect and love, it's not his vision, just an exercise.

Working from reference, Tenaya makes his first pass on the painting of a lion-man

You can really feel his love for the craft in his work, but even more so, you can feel a deep love for the female figure. He really connects the viewer to the subject and it would be slightly uncomfortable result were it not for his incredible talent with the brush. He works very gingerly, mindfully, and engaged, each brush stroke thoughtfully applied. His figures are rendered with strength and while sexually alluring, they are not just bodies placed in space for decorative effect or titillation. He's telling their story and does it well, and he knows he could be scrutinized over it, especially by a female audience. He and I have talked about that many times over the years, about him walking that fine line. My advice is always to do what you love, the love will shine through. Sure, someone might toss the "objectifying the female" comment out there, but good art transcends, and folks, this is good art.

"Semillas", in the studio

"Semillas", oil on panel

I'm honored that he let me stop by and take pictures, that he lets me in to his thoughts on his work. I hope I can make this a habit with more artists in the future!

Poppy the cat approves

Tenaya will be showing his new paintings at Krab Jab Studio in June 2016, and will be lecturing on his process at a ticketed artist talk/reception June 10th (our website/social media will roll out more info on that in the next week).

~Julie

Ten Questions for Socar Myles

I can't really remember how I became acquainted with Socar's work. I remember it being a few years back, and I think I was trying to pull together the Golden Age of Illustration show with Jeff Menges, who was co-curating (the show was September 2013). I am pretty sure Sam Araya mentioned her to me during one of our conversations, because it was through him I became her Facebook friend, so it very well may have been him who converted introduced me to her World of Weird.

Her work reminded me instantly of the book called "Hecate the Bandicoot", an obscure poetry book filled with ink drawings devoted to a Bandicoot with an insatiable appetite. Socar's work was quirky, detailed, loosely composed (but well thought) and in some ways, utterly bizarre. Her website (www.gorblimey.com), her titles (such as "Douchebirds"), even her name just smacked of cheekiness. I liked her.

I DO NOT LIKE THIS MANHOLE, pen an ink on toned paper,  image 17 x 6"

I thought her drawings were lovely, but I wasn't quite aware of how utterly delicate and detailed her work actually is until I got the originals into the studio. When you look at them online or published, you don't realize that these drawings are small, usually around 9 x 11" on average. So detailed are they that your eyes can actually cross looking at them. Images of little French grannies making lace until they go blind run through my head when I look at how teeny tiny her marks are, and how she cleverly makes use of negative space.

detail of I DO NOT LIKE THIS MANHOLE

Since then, I've been showing her work to astonished visitors here at the studio, but when people ask me about her, I only can say "She's from Canada", which sounds a bit ridiculous on my part (as if Canada's imports consist of comedy actors, hockey, and ink drawings). I sent Ms Myles a list of questions; some of them are mine and some are questions I get from visitors. She was more than happy to send me back answers. Here they are in their unabridged glory!

1. What is your educational background (artistic)? Where are you from and how long have you been in Vancouver?

I arrived in Vancouver in 1997, to attend the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design, and have lived here ever since, apart from the two years I spent in the north of Sweden.  I hope to move to a more rural area, one of these days.  Canada’s great glory is in its natural state, which one misses out on, living in the heart of a big city.

2. What inspired you to work with pen and ink?

Pen and ink has always been my favourite medium.  I love the drama of black and white, and the challenge of conveying every possible quality of light and shadow with only black lines.  I’ve used other media—oils and digital, most extensively—but so far, I’ve always come back to ink.  Ink allows a great deal of precision and control, which I like (though sometimes, it’s a double-edged sword:  a mistake becomes very obvious, when everything around it is meticulously planned and executed).

3. Your work is highly detailed. Do you use a loupe and a specific type of pen? What's your table setup? 

I don’t use any type of magnifying lens—alternating between distorted and regular viewing is too dizzying.  Recently, however, I’ve been prescribed reading glasses, so I suppose I’ll soon get used to it.  Pen-wise, I use a regular pen-holder, with various types of nibs.  My favourite’s the Speedball Hunt Artist Pen 100, which is a fine-pointed but flexible nib, capable of a variety of line weights.  (Increasing pressure allows the tines to split, resulting in a wider flow of ink, while light, brushing strokes can be used for shading so fine it looks like pencil, from a distance.)  At the moment, it all happens on a little plastic folding table, which likes to collapse and pinch my knees, every once in a while.  I am hoping to replace that with a proper drafting table, this year.

Socar's workspace

(my imagination is not too far from reality, it seems...)

4. What kind of illustration work are you doing these days? Where do you see yourself in the near future (books/concept art/etc)?

I am working on a book project, called “Mr. Gnarlypouch Doesn’t Like You.”  It’s about a whiny curmudgeon, who expresses his hateful thoughts about various (perfectly innocuous) people, places, and things.  He can’t find it in himself to demonstrate a positive attitude towards anything in his world.  But I’m making each illustration as beautiful as I possibly can, partly to show how distorted his thinking has become, and partly because some good friends of mine have volunteered themselves as subjects of his dislike, and I want to represent those people as they really are, not as he sees them.  Because I am financing this project myself, I am slipping it in between regular assignments, so the date of publication is still at least a couple of years off.

5. Who is your contemporary inspiration in art? I know Harry Clarke is also an inspiration but I'd like to hear about living artists too.

I’m inspired by a great many living artists.  I’ll name just a few, though, who are significant influences.  First, Carel Brest van Kempen (http://rigorvitae.blogspot.ca), for his depictions of animals going about their lives—I like the fact that his images of nature are more than just studies of animal physiology:  he takes the subject’s lifestyle and ecosystem into account, and adds little relevant details for the devoted viewer (tiny insects and birds, interesting animal behaviours, and so forth).  I also like to put some thought into what else is going on, beyond the central subject, what secondary stories might be transpiring in the background.  I also like Niroot Puttapipat (http://himmapaan.wordpress.com), who seems as heavily influenced by the Golden Age of Illustration as I am, and whose linework is invariably elegant.  His work has a lot of humanity about it:  you can see his curiosity and interest in the world around him, reflected in each line.  I should also mention Stephanie Law (http://shadowscapes.com), whom I’ve known longest, of these three.  Her work has a dreamlike quality, which I enjoy.  Furthermore, she has great skill with lighting and texture, which inspires me to push harder, with my own work.

Little Mermaid, by Harry Clarke, one of the great illustrators of the Golden Age

6. Do you consciously or subconsciously add any specific element to your images? for example, a certain type of butterfly or pattern

There are a few running themes, yes—some silly, some serious.  On the silly side, there’s the “antennabird,” which is a tiny, plump bird, with insect-like antennae on its head. The antennabird is shorthand for flights of fancy, and the lighter side of life.  I like to hide him in my more serious images, as a little escape for the observant viewer, a means of extending a glimmer of hope.  I think the antennabird made his first appearance in 2004, and has popped up quite consistently, since then.  

Another element I like to add is the presence of three distinct sections:  the sky, the ground, and the underground.  This is supposed to invite the viewer to look more closely, by implying that, although the main “story” is usually (though not always) happening in the “ground” section, there could be something more important under the surface, and room for speculation, up in the clouds.  The presence of the underground is also related to the running theme of death and renewal, which crops up in my work.  I like to draw dead stuff finding new purpose as nourishment for living stuff, and as a record of its own history, with the potential to be dug up and revisited.  

I have no idea whether or not these elements actually function as intended.  But the antennabird is also decorative, and the three-sectioned composition is also pleasant to look at (for me, anyway), so it doesn’t matter all that much.

7. What would we find you doing on days when you're not working on art? Is there a specific activity you enjoy?

When I’m not working, I’m often birdwatching, or reading.  But I don’t have a very exciting life.  I don’t know how to drive, so I mostly stay in my own neighbourhood, and enjoy the temperate climate, and the view of the water.  Ages ago, I wrote a novel, and found a publisher for it.  That publisher instantly went out of business--before I could even get my advance!  Feeling discouraged, I sort of forgot about writing.  Maybe I’ll try again, one day.

8. What kind of literature inspires you or your work?

Children’s literature is a big inspiration for me—mostly, the books I read when I was wee.  I try to incorporate the feeling I got from “The Wind in the Willows,” especially, into my work.  I often think about the Riverbank, and its tangle of life, even when I’m drawing something completely unrelated.  I sneak little decorative details—grass, leaves, flowers, little animals, the sun—into nearly everything, even if it’s just a swathe of fabric with little suns or roses on it, or a bird looking in the window.  My favourite non-children’s book is “Crime and Punishment,” but I don’t feel the desire to illustrate that, or pull in themes from its pages.  I don’t know, though—maybe something got in, anyway, and I didn’t notice.  That can happen, sometimes.

The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, pen and ink on toned paper

9. Mythology plays a strong role in your artwork. Is this an interest of yours? Do you have any spiritual belief system that helps you with your work?

I do have an interest in mythology, yes.  I don’t have any spiritual or religious beliefs of my own, but I’m very nosy about other people’s.  But I try to adapt the imagery and symbolism I like best to my own purposes, rather than referring directly to something that already exists, to avoid taking anyone's religion out of context, and perhaps conveying something that wasn't intended.  (Some of my work does refer to specific myths, but that is commissioned work, rather than something I thought up on my own.  When I do work of that nature, I try not to filter it too much through the lens of my own ideas, and stick to what’s written.)

10. If you could have a solo show of work, what kind of theme or body of work would you compose and in what medium (if not pen and ink)?

I’d like to do a show about infirmity of the body, and its effects on the mind.  But I don’t think I’d do that in any medium other than pen and ink.  I would need the delicate linework I can’t achieve with any other medium, in order to properly convey my ideas on the subject.  How else could I show that feeling of not wanting to exhale, because the breath of life is something that’s not attached to the body, and only ours for a moment, and impossible to get back, once it’s gone?  Well, probably I could show it some other way, if I were a better illustrator, but we all have our limitations.  Oh!  Maybe I’d use something that wasn't really illustration, like words.  I mean, I’d have drawings there, but there would be something to read, or maybe a recorded message, to go with them.  Is that cheating?  Maybe it’s cheating.  It’s definitely not proper illustration.  But I couldn't think of anything else.

Get Out of here, Pirates!, pen and ink on toned paper

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Socar Myles has a wall of work here at Krab Jab Studio; she is one of our represented artists. She will have a new piece of work in the upcoming show PAIN at A/NT Gallery in Seattle (opening August 2nd, 2014), and in the meantime, visit her blog on a Gorblog! for more on her technique and her projects.