Mentoring

I am a native of Nashville, a beautiful city on the Cumberland River in the heart of Middle Tennessee. Nashville has long been called the “Athens of the South” because of its many learning institutions. The citizens have embraced this identifier through its storied academic history and its architecture, reflected in the many examples of Greek Revival homes and public buildings. In Centennial Park, near downtown Nashville, stands the world’s only full-scale replica of Greece’s Parthenon. Constructed to celebrate the state’s centennial in 1876, the building opened to the public in 1877 and remains a beloved monument. Inside, you may be surprised to find a giant statue of Athena, goddess of war and patroness of the arts and industry, created by artist Alan LeQuire. Near the original Parthenon, a similar monumental statue of Athena, created of gilded ivory and sculpted by Pheidias, stood between the Propylaea and the Parthenon on the Acropolis of Athens.

In Greek mythology, Athena took many forms when she came to interact with human beings, but one series of encounters is particularly meaningful to me. In Homer’s poem The Odyssey, Athena is the divine benefactor of Odysseus, King of Ithaca, and his family. She provides Odysseus and his son Telemachus with advice and counsel, most often in the form of the aged man, Mentor, as the two confront life’s battles. It is from this story, and later contributions in literature, that the word “mentor” came to mean a person who shares their knowledge, skills, and experience to help another person grow and progress. Or, as Webster’s dictionary concisely defines it, a mentor is “an experienced and trusted adviser.”

Throughout art history, experienced artists have mentored young, eager artists who had an intense desire to learn from seasoned professionals. John Singer Sargent found great inspiration and tutelage from his teacher, Carolus-Duran, in his early career. I think Sargent could have been a mentor to the young Dennis Miller Bunker or even Wilford DeGlen, who assisted Sargent on his mural commission for the Boston Public Library, and became a close, lifelong friend.

I loved watching the incredibly inspiring relationship between Marshall Bouldin and his son, Jason Bouldin. Although they were father and son, Marshall was also a trusted and valuable mentor to Jason. Both shared a great love of art and, as in most mentor/mentee relationships, both grew from the experience.

I benefited beyond measure from a long mentoring relationship with Everett Raymond Kinstler. A phenomenal artist, Kinstler was also a gifted instructor. Even more remarkable was his ability to motivate and inspire. We met through a mutual acquaintance and, in time, began our friendship as pen pals. Ultimately, Kinstler invited me to study with him. From that time on, he became my most important teacher and influence in my life, both professionally and personally. We connected and, because of my willingness to listen carefully and dig at everything he asked me to do, I grew, and he stuck with me–celebrating my successes and encouraging me when I failed.

Although never satisfied (a trait Kinstler deeply admired in anyone), I believe I would never have found such clear direction on my own. Kinstler helped keep me focused and, because I knew he wanted the best for me, I stayed firmly on the path he had in mind for my work. That path included an appreciation for those who have gone before (a healthy respect for the past) and dedication to time-honored principles of painting: a firm foundation in good drawing, sensitivity to value and edges, and a love for color. He spent endless hours pushing me to grasp the importance of effect over detail, but always pointed to the necessity of understanding the particular quality or nature of whatever you were painting. For Kinstler, art was storytelling and illusion. As he often summed up his philosophy of art, an artist must have feeling, imagination, and the ability to communicate.

For nearly 27 years we worked closely together. After Kinstler passed away in 2019, I became dedicated more than ever to not only continue to work hard and build on the foundations he gave me, but also to share all I could the things he had taught me. Sitting in his studio where he painted for nearly 70 years, and where I now have the honor of working, I began compiling my notes from classes and conversations with Kinstler. I recently released a new book entitled The Art of Seeing that I hope captures the essence of his approach to art. All proceeds from the book are being donated to the Portrait Society of America in Kinstler’s honor.

It’s easy to see that there are many things to gain from a relationship with a mentor. It can give you practical insights, guidance and advice, increase your confidence, and improve your interpersonal skills. It can also give you the opportunity to discuss confidential challenges and goals in your career. Most importantly, you will find you have someone you can depend on to be in your corner when you feel “on the ropes.” Their wisdom and confidence in you can bolster and inspire you to new heights that your mentor knows are possible even if you don’t!

Through the Portrait Society, we offer many opportunities for mentoring with seasoned professional artists. They happily share their time, expertise, and belief in you to push you and your work further.

Find opportunities to build relationships with those you admire and, in turn, share yourself with others. As my first mentor, Dawn Whitelaw, told me when I was uncertain if I could be of help to others, “You will always know something someone else doesn’t, and if nothing else, your passion and attitude will be an inspiration.”