|Whether or not you like to be around a lot of people is one thought to consider when
you choose the right workshop for you. Descent into Bryce by Steve Henderson,
18 x 18, oil painting, also available as a limited edition signed print.
Let's assume that you don't attend workshops at the rate teenaged girls text–All. The. Time.–and you're looking for an experience that will fit not only your schedule and your budget, but your way of painting, and your way of thinking about painting as well.
First things first–look at the work produced by the prospective instructor. Hate it? Indifferent? Pass.
Like it? Learn more.
After you have determined whether or not you can afford the class–keeping in mind not only tuition costs, but travel, lodging, and time away (who will feed the dog?)–then consider how the class will be taught.
Is it hands on, with a relatively small group, and an instructor who circulates the room giving individual feedback about oil painting techniques and methods?
Or is it group seminar style, with 100 of you packed in the same room, assistants doing the circulating while the instructor's head speaks from a large white screen? Choose the learning method that works best for you.
Look over the supply list, read the class description to grasp the objectives, e-mail the instructor or hosting venue with questions, see if there are prerequisites (many of the workshops of my Norwegian artist, Steve Henderson, strongly encourage a fundamental acquaintanceship with drawing), and, if each step leads you excitedly to the next one, sign up.
Go in with an open mind, be willing to try something new even if it seems peculiar, and suspend your preconceptions of how things are supposed to be–after all, you're here to learn from another person, not rely upon what you've always done.
Carolyn Henderson is the manager of Steve Henderson Fine Art. She is a weekly columnist for Fine Art News, a division of Canvoo, and writes a lifestyle column, Middle Aged Plague, that is published online and in print newspapers throughout the country.
Describing herself as "small, insignificant, and ordinary," Carolyn writes for and about normal, everyday people, who are not small and insignificant at all.