Four Masters I Think About When I Paint

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Have you ever heard someone say there are no new ideas, or that nothing is truly original anymore? Instinctively, statements like that annoy me. Yet, at the most basic level, there is a fundamental truth to them.
Naturally, creative people want to view themselves as entirely original. And in many ways, we are; no two people are exactly alike. But creativity does not exist in a vacuum. We learn from, and are inspired by, those who walked the path before us.
Our sources of inspiration grow as our exposure to the world expands. We might find  inspiration in the natural world, popular culture, or current events, possibly even all three simultaneously. But the work of other artists, both past and present, certainly shapes how we see and interpret the world around us.
As a painter, I have studied an immense amount of art from various cultures and eras. Early on, I was drawn to the European "Old Masters," largely due to a modest collection of art books in my parents' library. I was utterly fascinated by how 16th and 17th-century painters could create such vibrant, living pictures. That fascination kept me drawing; I wanted to learn how to create that kind of magic myself.
As my education and practice deepened, my horizons expanded to include ancient art, contemporary works, and everything in between. I have learned to appreciate artistic processes I will never personally use. Looking at the world through the eyes of others has allowed me to think far beyond my own personal experiences.
While many artists have shaped my philosophy, I want to share four representational painters who are constantly on my mind. Each has deeply inspired some aspect of my studio practice, and each left an undeniable mark on the broader art world.

Paul Cézanne (1839–1906)
The Structure of Moments

Cézanne is a complex figure whose paintings deeply influenced the 20th century’s modern art. While he belonged to the same generation as the Impressionists, he never quite fit into their Parisian circles. He rejected traditional academic styles just as they did, but Cézanne wasn’t interested in capturing fleeting moments of light. Instead, he was consumed by the form and structure of his subjects.
Cezanne married traditional composition with the vibrant color principles of Impressionism, inadvertently carving out a singular path that would later inspire Cubism. His work was groundbreaking, heavily criticized, and slow to find an audience. Even today, it remains beautifully challenging because nothing about a Cézanne painting is designed to put the viewer at ease. His compositions are complex, his colors can seem muted or earthy, and his planes and angles routinely defy traditional perspective.
Two elements of his work completely captivate me: his humble still-life arrangements and his ability to meld multiple sightlines into a single canvas.
He populated his canvases with ordinary, recurring objects: apples, pears, textiles, a ginger jar, or simple earthenware. Nothing is romanticized or theatrical; everything is just there. Yet, his considered brushstrokes reveal an artist exploring the world as if for the first time. When I look at a Cézanne still life, I feel an intense intimacy.
Our minds can become wonderfully disorientated by his defiance of perspective. Awkward, raking angles make it look as though fruit should be rolling right off the tabletop. His paintings demand active looking rather than passive enjoyment. The eye is continuously guided along shifting pathways; resting is not really an option.

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Why do his table edges fail to line up? I believe Cézanne was painting the truth of time and physical movement. As he worked, his head shifted, his angle changed, and he chose not to edit out the resulting visual oddities. He painted what his eyes actually saw from moment to moment. I like to think of Cézanne as a cartographer charting a territory; the result may not be objectively accurate, but it holds the authentic experience of a moment.

Lois Dodd (B. 1927)
The Poetry of the Immediate

Lois Dodd is a representational painter who came of age in post-WWII New York, right as Abstract Expressionism was taking over the art world. Rather than joining the avant-garde trend, Dodd chose a quieter independent path: she painted what she saw.
Dodd has built a notable career out of celebrating the ordinary, whether painting rural landscapes or domestic interiors. Her works, especially her smaller canvases, are typically completed on-location in a single sitting. She doesn't carefully stage her subjects. If something catches her eye while she is moving through the world, she stops and paints it as she experiences it.
Dodd is a master at conveying the joy of spontaneous discovery during an ordinary day.

She typically begins by locking in the structure of light and shadow. By establishing this immediately, she anchors the time of day, allowing her to concentrate on the forms while ignoring the inevitable shifting of light. She applies the same philosophy indoors, painting her environment exactly as she finds it without theatrical lighting or precious arrangements.
Because her paintings are completed so quickly, the paint is often thinly and decisively applied, giving her work a remarkably fresh, breathing quality. Her landscapes often feel utterly sun-drenched because her colors remain clean and unworked. I deeply admire the light, airy quality that comes from such confident, rapid decision-making.

Antonio López García (B. 1930)
Beguiling Observation
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Antonio López García is a Spanish master celebrated for his breathtaking realism. He is a phenomenal draftsman, but his art is born from combining that technical skill with an almost devotional intensity of observation. His paintings can take years to complete as he meticulously documents the subtle shifts in his environment. In lesser hands, this level of scrutiny could result in a stiff, academic exercise. With López García, it yields pure poetry.
His intense observation creates a profound sense of intimacy, inviting us to step directly into his sensory world. His colors are wonderfully quiet, and the air itself feels palpable. Yet, when you step close to the canvas, the tight, microscopic detail you expect to find actually dissolves. Instead, you discover that it is his masterful handling of subtle color shifts that tricks our eyes into perceiving flawless detail from a distance.
Like Dodd and Cézanne, López García finds his muse in the mundane. His massive cityscapes of Madrid bypass famous monuments instead favoring views of Madrid’s typical commercial avenues. Many of his most powerful works focus on the domestic sphere:

• A view down a dim hallway looking into a bathroom
• The interior of an open refrigerator
• The raw ingredients for an everyday meal

There is nothing glamorous or idealized about his subject matter. Instead, he uncovers an exquisite beauty within the fragments of ordinary life.

Janet Fish (1938–2025)
The Symphony of Light

Of the painters in this group, Janet Fish is perhaps the most visible influence on my own work. As a still-life painter, she was captivated by transparency and the complex ways light refracts, bounces, and dances through objects.
Fish launched her career in the 1960s, a decade of radical experimentation. Abstract Expressionism was waning, minimal and conceptual art were rising, and many critics declared that painting was dead. A small contingent of artists defied this narrative by doubling down on realism. Many of her peers used photographs, creating what would become known as Photorealism. Instead, Fish turned to painting from life.
She ignored still life tradition by discarding the dark, staged arrangements of art history. Instead, she assembled eclectic, brightly colored groupings of objects that bore no obvious narrative connection:

• Vintage glass bowls and  bottles
• Fresh fruit and wrapped pastries
• Glossy cellophane and vibrant textiles

For Fish, the narrative meaning of the objects mattered far less than how they filled space, caught color, and scattered light.
Unlike traditional studio painters who use controlled, artificial spotlights, Fish embraced the unpredictable nature of real-world environment. She often placed her objects near windows, working dynamically with the shifting daylight. She also utilized higher, downward angles that created sweeping, energetic pathways for the viewer's eyes to follow.
Wandering through a Janet Fish painting is a joyous experience. While the entire canvas reads as a cohesive, glowing ecosystem, looking closely reveals delightful, unexpected vignettes—micro-stories told through a gentle reflection or a splash of vibrant color.

The Lessons of the Masters
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While I often study these four artists individually, they share a collective philosophy that I deeply admire and aspire to in my own practice:

1. They paint from life: They emphasize the vital importance of first-hand observation and deep exploration.
2. They champion the ordinary: They prove that simple, everyday objects carry an inherent poetry when treated with attention and respect.
3. They balance simplicity and complexity: Whether through the sheer density of visual information, shifting viewpoints, or unexpected angles, they provide an endless feast for the eyes.

Ultimately, their work makes a beautiful case for slowing down and truly looking at the world around us. The next time something small catches your eye, stop and investigate it, just as Lois Dodd would. Notice how the light changes, or how an object changes over time. You never truly know what you will discover, and that act of discovery is one of the most rewarding things we can experience.