Introduction
Equine realism is a funny thing — clinical and technical, we have biological facts we need to convey in our clay and pigment. We just can’t sculpt or paint willy nilly — we have rather strict rules to follow for our piece to read realistically, narrowing the creative options rather dramatically. Yet at the same time, like it or not, our humanity gets injected into the equation as we work, seasoning our art with all that is us as individuals. We often refer to this as “artistic style,” that distinct creative fingerprint that sets each artists’ work apart from every other. In a sense then, our style is like the top hat and tails to our artwork, giving it a unique, enticing flair and flourish so necessary for art appreciation.
And every artist has a style, no matter how dryly clinical their work appears to be. Honestly, if you know what you’re looking at, even the most technical renditions have their own unique “look” to their work. Because it cannot be helped. Every artist will inject a style into their art because we’re human, not Nature, and Nature is the only thing that can create a truly realistic equine without a stylistic skew.
And isn’t that a wonderful thing? And it’s critical to boot. Now why would that be? Why is style so important in a technical art form? Well, let’s explore this idea further!
The Technicalities of Style
At first it can be easily argued that style is the kiss of death in a clinical art form like equine realism. And to a point, this is true. Those biological rules, remember. That need for authenticity and suspension of belief demands that we rein in our style a bit and lean into clinical biology and strict technicality more. Because we can’t deny that those pieces more technically clinical tend to read “more realistic,” don’t they? Yet what does that even mean, "clinical technical realism," when style is always injected into it? And that said, is style always the kiss of death? No, not really. In fact, style can actually inject some necessary ingredients into our creative concoctions that can amplify reality and even increase the appeal of the art form itself. How so?
Well, first, artistic style can’t be helped so why fight it? There is no art ever made that isn’t first founded on individual style. Even the most “realistic” work ever created is still stylistically based, influenced by such things as the choice of narrative, methods and technique, composition and design, palette choice and lighting, what’s amplified and what’s dampened, toolwork or brushwork, and above all, what’s captured by our individual perception and injected into the work. And all these individualistic creative choices add up! It’s why ten different painters can paint an apple with the same paint, tools, lighting, and technique and still end up with paintings that are markedly different. Everyone has a different perception of reality! Well, the same applies to equine realism. If you simply take a moment to study the works in this art form en masse, you’ll quickly see that each piece is quite stylistic even when hyper-realistic at the same time. For example, study the equine work of Anna Hyatt Huntington. Her work is very realistic but also highly stylized all the same, but here's the kicker...no less effective for it. Another to study is Herbert Haseltine whose work is really super stylized but also beautifully realistic. There's also Karen Kasper to study and Louise Peterson and Frederic Remington. Even the work of Mr.Z is stylized when you know what you're looking at, as hyper-realistic as it looks at first glance. And, of course, the work of Edwin Bogucki very much has his own unique unmistakable style, but beautifully realistic as well. So no — realism and style aren't mutually exclusive nor is style necessarily destructive to realism.
Second, style keeps the art from from degenerating into something inert and irrelevant. As a thought experiment then, let’s say all our artists achieved technical singularity, or accuracy to the nth degree. We now have tables full of pieces that are uncanny realistic. And that would be super cool — to a point. Because we’d have painted ourselves into a homogenous corner, wouldn’t we? It would be a sea of sameness. So how would we judge them? How could we tell who did what? What if we wanted something different? How is this not a form of stagnation? See, style keeps realism vibrant, evolving, and appealing to many different tastes and aesthetics. As such, artistic style actually amplifies the appeal of realism with variety for every taste, rather than distracting from it. Indeed, when we can tell who did what, doesn’t that add spice to our brew? And perhaps even more importantly, style infuses innovation and growth into our arts by always driving our artists forward, keeping them hungry for “more,” whatever that may mean to them. In this, different styles approach the same problem of realism in many different ways, coming to the conundrum from many different angles. And the more brains that work a problem differently, the more solutions and discoveries we’re going to glean from those creative machinations. Really, if you study the very best realistic works throughout history, it becomes patently clear that they’re not only imbued with style, they embrace it! It’s a badge of honor, not a disgrace. Like stroll the works on display at Brookgreen Gardens in South Carolina for a day, an entire sculpture park dedicated to realistic sculpture, and very quickly, you see how potent style is for heightening not only realism itself, but our appreciation of it as well.
This brings us to number three: The truth is, there’s many different ways to convey reality — there’s no one right way. Like, if you study how different realistic works tackle hair, for instance, you quickly discover that it can be sculpted in many different ways that are all convincing. For example, we have the suggestion of hair by Veryl Goodnight to the highly detailed depiction of hair by Marilyn Newmark, and both work equally well. And if you study paintwork, you see that many different approaches to media and color use and technique, and even shading and highlight, are all wholly passable as “realistic.” Even the way anatomy is conveyed in clay is open to many different interpretations, all comfortably within the bubble of realism. So why not play around in that bubble? Why not explore and expand and grow? Diversity is the spice of life as they say, and this is absolutely true even for equine realism.
And fourth, some style can actually accentuate reality, can actually amplify the overall impression much better than a literal approach. For example, as scale shrinks, the more interpretive both the sculpting and painting need to become to stay in scale because, as we all know, scale is the very foundation of realistic art. So here, hinting at things stylistically becomes far more effective in getting the piece to read “realistic” than doing something literally. We can see this effect in painted details like ticking or tiny sculptural details like moles, for instance, on mini or micro scales. Or, for example, certain kinds of stylized brushwork can produce a more realistic overall impression than rendering something literally. We often see this with the hair-by-hair technique that can quickly become regimented and contrived due to our brain’s pattern recognition response, steering the paintwork away from the organic chaos necessary for that needed dose of believable reality. Instead, using a “randomizing” stylistic brushwork technique like with stencil brushes or toothbrush flicking to lay the template for that organic chaos could have been the more convincing route.
A Big Stage
Put all this together and it becomes evident rather quickly that even within the tight confines of realism, there’s still plenty of room for artistic style. Heck, just judge a photo show or head on over to a live show to see the vast kaleidoscope of possibilities that can do well.
So on that note then, let’s take a look at a slew of Vintage Customs to show us the power of style in equine realism. Study how each one is so distinctive and fleshes out “realism” all the more with its own special take. And Vintage Customs are very handy examples of artistic style because when they were created so long ago, the artists often created their pieces in relative isolation. Indeed, when many of these works were made, the Internet didn’t exist yet or was rudimentary, print was often in black and white and rare, live shows were few and far between, and the how-to landscape just didn’t exist yet online or through Zoom classes. As such, artists had to come up with their own methodology and aesthetic, often from scratch, having to reinvent the wheel for themselves. All this gave rise to a plethora of very strong styles within the bubble of realism which isn't only a fun feature when collecting Vintage Customs but which also happens to serve as great education on style in our art form, too! So let’s go!…
The Caveats
Now — yes — if style runs rampant in our work, unchecked by technical accuracy, we’re going to run afoul of realism. Remember — those rules again. So the trick is keeping our style within the confines of those rules which can be a delicate dance at times for sure, especially when we get caught up in the wonderful fever of creativity. But even if we two-step a bit to far at times, that's okay — we’re exploring the boundaries of the art form and our work. Ultimately, we’ll figure it out to find our steady state, to learn to rein it in a bit to maintain our style while still remaining inside that necessary reality bubble.
But how do we know when we’ve gone too far? And therein lies the tricky question. See, since everyone perceives reality differently, no one has a truly objective perspective of reality. Why? Because reality will always be formulated through one's own individual perception filter, and everyone’s filter is different. What’s even trickier, this includes you! As such, we typically never See our own style because it’s simply that facet of our work that just makes it look right to us. This is one of the reasons why we cringe at our older work because it’s of an older style we now See with more experience behind us. So if we can’t even See our own style in the thick of it, how can we determine its nature? Or in other words, if we can't See our own style, how can we determine if we've gone beyond the bubble?
Some handy advice then is three-fold. First, seek advice from multiple trusted sources with the pointed question, “Is my work too stylized to be realistic?” And getting multiple inputs is necessary to get a better overall idea of how your work is perceived. When it comes to this issue, never rely on just one or two critiques — aim for five to seven. You want a Big Picture impression. Because if all of them suggest that — yes — our work goes over the boundary a bit too much, we have a more solid handle on the nature of our stylistic problems. But if only one or two suggest so, their own reality filters might be skewing their perception. And never forget — everyone is going at their own pace on their own learning curves. And if they’re doing it right, even the very best in our genre are still learning and evolving.
Second, do some artistic exercises that more objectively compare your work to reality. For example, take a photo of one of your sculpted heads from the side profile. Upload that into a photo editing program and make a tracing in a bright color of the outline of the head and the features and musculature. Then do the same to your referenced head photo in a contrasted bright color — then overlay the two. Where your sculpted head diverges away from the actual head is where your style is skewing your Eye. Or for paintwork, take a quality neutral-lighting shot of your paintjob then upload that into a photo editing program side-by-side with your reference. Where the color and color blocking skewed is where your style was steering you off the map. What’s more, an enthusiastic use of proportional calipers throughout the sculpting process can help you stay on track. This is because all realistic sculpting actually is is getting the spatial relationships right. Really, get all those spatial relationships on point and you “fill the space” with a realistic sculpture automatically. So a handy trick is to print out your reference photo and mark out the proportions on that printout before starting work. This will familiarize yourself with those spatial relationships prior to jumping in and give you a solid reference to map out your proportional points on your sculpture.
And third, actively employ a “fresh eye” approach to your work by putting it away for a couple of weeks, out of sight and out of mind. Then come back to it more detached and objective, perhaps allowing you to better spot the stylistic skews that push the piece out of that coveted reality bubble. Taking photographs of your work and seeing it through the more objectifying eye of a camera lens can help, too, especially when you reverse images in a photo editing program, or invert the colors, or greyscale the image for a whole new take. Also consider looking at your piece "backwards" in a hand mirror every so often as that can provide an immediate fresh new view as well.
But many stylistic skews don't just reside with artists. Perhaps even more, they're found in the public in the form of stylizations they interpret as "more correct" or "more realistic." Now this is fine given the majority of the public had a savvy eye with a big enough knowledge base to account for exceptions or other aspects that reside within the reality bubble, but the problem is — it usually doesn't. In fact, it's typically quite the opposite. Instead, the general public tends to have very strong stylistic biases which are usually rooted in exceedingly conventional tastes. Like, for instance, the public will insist on the depiction of Saddlebreds in the conventional trotting phase when you want to depict another phase of the trot, compelling most of the public to decry that as "wrong" or "ugly." But it's not! Or, for example, most people prefer unnaturally short backs in their equine art when in life, horse backs are longer than their tastes accept or even recognize. Indeed, during George Stubbs era of equine art, artists knew full well how to paint an actual realistic horse, but those paintings didn't sell well. Instead then, they deliberately stylized equine heads smaller, eyes larger, necks longer, bone finer, hooves smaller, and backs shorter to denote "high bred" horses in their art, to differentiate them from the "common" horse so prevalent at the time. And those stylizations are still very strong in the public's tastes. Simply study Maureen Love's work or the highly stylized art in the Arabian horse genre to get a clear indication of how these skews still operate today. And many people may not even be aware of some actual breeds that look stylized in life like the Akhal-Teke or the Sztumski type of Polish Coldblood, for instance. These two breeds are just built so differently that if someone isn't familiar with all their qualities, they'll label a realistic rendition of them as "incorrect." The point is, the general public can be greatly if not completely blinded to actual realism in a multitude of ways, so be ready for back blow if you "go against the grain." And also be ready for your work to meet with crickets while more stylized and unrealistic work — that better pings these public skews — meets with wild kudos. And, yes, this can be incredibly frustrating for a realism-based artist because it's like constantly hitting your head against a wall! But if you're right — you're right! Stick to your guns!
Conclusion
Whatever our goals with our work and whatever our challenges may be, it’s important to embrace our own style. Really, it’s a unique feature of our own individuality and a critical component to our work no matter how realistic we want to make it. It makes our work distinct from everyone else’s, letting us stake our claim in this demanding art form among the sea of work out there. Our style also adds to the vibrant flavor of equine realism as our unique interpretations of the subject adds depth, relevance, freshness, and meaning to what could so easily degenerate into something sterile and soulless. Our style is also our best form of branding, of advertising. Like if someone can immediately identify a beautiful piece as our work because of its style, that’s the best publicity possible, isn’t it? All in all then, our style is truly one of our artistic superpowers! Wield it with zest and enthusiasm!
"Comparison is the death of joy," said Mark Twain, and he was absolutely right. So even when our project deviates away from the proverbial class example — the real deal — that’s okay. We’re making our own creative decisions and selections as we find our way. It’s a feature of artistic confidence, not failure. So think of ideal examples as a springboard, a launchpad for our own development and explorations rather than the end all and be all final word. They’re just the start, right? We should make the offered processes and ideas our own without overthinking them too much, allowing our own style to infuse into them to make them truly our own.
Ultimately then, style keeps equine realism alive and kickin’ and, best of all, keeps it fun to collect and appreciate. Absolutely, studying all the different ways all the artists reinterpret reality over and over and over again is fascinating and electric, as each one adds some novel twist or creative point of view. And again, the more brains that come at the problem from different angles, the more likely we’ll all key in on that ever-moving target of realism. So pop on your top hat and bow tie, grab your cane and patent leather shoes…and hit the dance floor like Fred Astaire — style to burn and flair to flaunt! Let’s see your fancy moves! The beat of our art form is big enough to welcome your own drum, so drum away it with relish and confidence! We can’t wait to see how you strut your stuff in high style!
“No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he did, he would cease to be an artist.”
— Oscar Wilde
