Interviews

Interview with Becky Pallack, 2001

Pallack: What does "Romantic Realism" really mean?

Denys: Unfortunately, "Romantic" and "Realism" are both loaded words. The so-called "Romantic" movements in the history of painting, literature and philosophy, for example, have drastically different perspectives of man and the universe. Today, to simply refer to a style as "Romantic Realism" means nothing at all unless you specifically define the terms.
The term "Romantic Realism" has been used by more than one person to describe a specific style of art. But my own definition, and yours too I imagine, is based on the one described in the esthetics of Objectivism. According to Ayn Rand, an artist is "Romantic" if he portrays man as a being whose life is governed by his own decisions, and portrays him as such in an idealized way. That is, he portrays man as he can and should be, according to the artist’s view of the world. An artist is a "Realist" if he presents his vision in a way that allows a viewer or reader to actually apply its values to himself. Or rather, in a way that either confirms or denies the viewer’s own view of the world. That implies the work of art has to be believable enough, or realistic enough for the viewer to identify with it. The overall effect is a portrayal of life as it should be, in a way that says to the viewer "Yes! This is what I think is important in life."
Romantic Realism isn’t concerned with teaching moral lessons, educating the viewer, or trying to get them to vote for your favorite political candidate. It isn’t actually concerned with the viewer at all. Romantic Realism is concerned with emphasizing man’s virtues and showing the logical results or requirements of those virtues. Of course, virtues are defined differently by many people, but you have to keep in mind that Romanticism derives its values rationally from the principle that man has volition, i.e. that he has the power to control his own life and future. If an artist doesn’t base the values of his work of art on this principle, he isn’t a Romanticist, and therefore isn’t a Romantic Realist.

P: Who are the artists whom you admire?

D: It’s actually very difficult to give a straight answer to this question. I could name several artists in various media whom I admire, but in each case I’d have to include an explanation of why I like their work. The reason for this is, historically, there really aren’t many artists who consistently produced works that were admirable as a whole. There are indeed works of art that have admirable elements within them, but inevitably there’s something lacking in them that prevents me from being able to say, "yes, this is a work of art as I myself would have created it."
Sculpture probably offers the best historical examples of great art, mainly due to its limitation of subject matter that forces the artist to practice greater selectivity than in other media such as painting and literature. There are a lot of great statues by the ancient Greeks, Romans, and Renaissance artists, particularly Michelangelo.
Being primarily a painter, however, my own focus is on the craft I practice. So I try to find similar great works of art among the painters of the past. Unfortunately, painting has provided far fewer great examples of art than sculpture. Unlike the sculpture of ancient Greece, there was never a period in the history of painting that saw the production of works that were truly great both in execution and in theme. Probably the closest we ever came to it was in the brief period of late 19th century England in the works of English Classicists such as Frederic Lord Leighton and Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema. These artists, particularly Leighton, showed a fair amount of selectivity and hero-worship in their work, while at the same time were free from the shackles of religion and compositional dogma that plagued the works of the Renaissance and French Classical schools. Of course, Impressionism and modernism put an end to the possibilities that such a direction in painting could have had in time.
Aside from these artists, I tend to prefer painters who, although they may portray themes I disagree with, or even no solid themes at all, at least were proficient enough to create great works of technical mastery or compositional integration. As a painter, I know how hard it is to paint well, so that’s something I always admire, even if the subject matter is empty. Sir John Everett Millais, William Holman Hunt, Adolphe-William Bouguereau, John William Godward, J.W. Waterhouse, and John Singer Sargent are just a few of the painters who possess qualities I admire. Probably my favorite among them is Millais, mainly because of his paintings The Order of Release and The Huguenot, which I think are two of the very best works ever painted. More or less, I like works on a painting-to-painting basis, rather than having favorite artists.

P: How would you describe your own style of art?
D: Absolutely fantastic! :^) Honestly though, I’d say that relative to other painters I’m a complete control-freak. I don’t believe in letting things happen on the canvas, I believe in making them happen. I don’t see any value in "happy accidents", to use the term of one of painting’s most amusing personalities. Some people think that by letting an element of chance into your work you make it more dynamic and somehow more stimulating to the viewer. Frankly though, I’m confident that I’m a much better painter than random chance will ever be, so allowing accidents to happen can only hurt the quality of my work. For really bad painters, I guess the opposite is probably true.

Probably more artists than not place esthetic value on the accidental in their work. But can you imagine what would happen if that same esthetic was applied to car mechanics or aeronautics? The friendly skies wouldn’t be nearly as friendly any more. This is one reason why visiting a gallery is often a scary experience. You’re surrounded by the plane crashes of artists who roll the dice and let the paint strokes lie where they may. Aside from being very precise, I think my exposure to other styles and methods has had a great influence on guiding my own style. Having been raised in the home of a painter, studied art history in college, and done a fair amount of traveling, I’ve had a lot of time to become familiar with a wide range of artistic practices. I think the end result is a familiarity with the craft of painting that allows me to approach my own work in a confident and academic way. One of the most noticeable characteristics of this, in comparison with other painters, I think, is a fusion of definite Romantic themes with subtlety of presentation. I don’t usually like it when an artist beats me over the head with blatantly obvious and worn-out symbolism in order to communicate their theme. The ability to maintain that level of effectiveness, while presenting the theme subtly and gracefully is, in my mind, the mark of a truly great artist. It’s difficult enough to present a theme well, but to present it gracefully requires the painter to be a visual poet as well as a philosophical thinker.

P: Would you like to see Romanticism make a come back as an intellectual movement? With art, literature, theater, etc? How could that be possible?

D: I’m not sure Romanticism ever was a unified intellectual movement. There have been artists here and there who possessed enough confidence in the power of man’s mind to create some great Romantic works, but there never seemed enough of them at once to form an actual movement.
Naturally, of course, I’d love to live in a city or country filled with Romantic, rational minds where I could always catch a show or gallery stroll that made it feel great to be alive. The sheer inspiration that would provide me for my own work would be immeasurable. At the moment, I’m perfectly happy living in a similar microcosm of friends, with our own thoughts and works. It would be great though, to see that kind of positive thinking and attitude on a massive scale.
Practically speaking, I think it’s too early for such a revolution. Our ancestors only recently managed to drag themselves out of the dark ages. Or rather, a few bright minds managed to drag them out kicking and screaming. I don’t think a lot of people are ready yet to handle the responsibility of deciding what’s good, judging others and expecting to be judged As more people accept the responsibility of living by their own minds for their own existence, things will change It is happening. You can see signs of it around, especially if you keep in mind what the world was like 200 or 300 years ago. But Rome wasn’t built overnight, as they say.
In the meantime I’m perfectly content with the way things are, as long as I’m able to paint what I want. My goal isn’t to change the world, it’s to create great art.

P: Do you think the Romantic Realism movement has a lot to do with escaping "classical correctness" or social conventions? (quote from a definition found on an art history Web site)

D: I don’t think Romantic Realism is about escaping anything. I think its strength is its complete indifference to social conventions and classical dogma. The problem with classical correctness and social convention is they both assume an artist creates his work for other people or in relation to the work of other people As a Romantic Realist, I don’t consider other people at all when I paint. My paintings represent my own vision of a world that I would like to live in, people I’d like to know, places I’d like to be, etc.
The unique thing about Romantic Realism, in relation to the history of art, is that it’s one of the few styles--maybe even the only style--that isn’t derived from a reaction against something. As a style, it’s unconcerned with any other styles or opinions. Its purpose isn’t to point out what’s wrong with all the other opinions out there, it’s simply to point out what is the good according to its own terms. Let the viewer decide if they agree. That’s one thing that makes it such a positive movement. Instead of pointing out and dwelling on problems and negatives, it’s pointing out solutions and positives. A Romantic Realist intentionally picks out all the inconsequential negative aspects so all that remains is that which inspires and really counts in life--the good. This doesn’t mean the artist is unaware of the negative parts of the world and that his work is naive, it just means he’s making a definite statement: this is what’s worthy of being represented in art.

P: How does your art reflect your philosophy?
D: I’d say my art reflects my philosophy in the most intimate way. My subjects represent what I consider to be of value in the world, my style reflects my state of consciousness, and the relative seriousness or joyfulness with which I portray these subjects shows my attitude towards life, living and the universe in general.
I’m a firm believer that an artist’s work speaks volumes about who he really is. Even if he tries desperately to avoid painting that which is of value to him, for instance, he’s still making a value judgment. You can change who you are, but you can’t escape it. Art underscores that fact.

I’m a very confident, rational, optimistic person. I believe I can control my own life through my own thoughts and actions. I respect strength, determination, beauty, reason, and creativity, and I think all these things are evident in my work.

P: Who did you study art with (or what school)? Are there any schools teaching Romanticism?

D: Everything I know about the technical practice of art I essentially taught myself. Even though I was raised by a painter and spent plenty of time in the studio and workshop, I never really studied the techniques my father used. Our styles are very different, and we paint in different genres as well, so there wasn’t a lot I could take away with me to apply to my own art.
What I did learn from my father was something of the craft of painting. He isn’t one of those painters who buys pre-stretched, pre-primed canvases from the store and paints in the corner of the family room. He’s a very hands-on kind of guy and he likes to make his canvases, stretchers and frames from scratch, the old-fashioned way. So while growing up I did get to learn all about the craft of painting, which has been a tremendous help to me, especially since I’m a complete purist when it comes to using only safe, time-tested materials and techniques.
I have a degree in art history from the University of Utah, so I got to learn a lot about that side of art while in college. I never studied painting in college though, because the work of the professors was just awful, both technically and thematically. Their teaching techniques, if you can call it teaching, really didn’t appeal to me either, so I ended up in art history and only used the art department for its live modeling classes, which pretty much allowed the students to study the model any way they liked.
That meant I got to study painting on my own while pursuing a degree in art history simultaneously. Actually, even though I was in school I still considered my private course of study my main academic focus, but the two were very closely related as you can imagine. My study consisted mainly of seeking out painters I liked and researching their career, style and works. I was mainly interested in finding painters with good technical ability, since that’s what I was trying to learn. I focused on the painters of Victorian England for the reasons I mentioned earlier, and on several occasions took trips to see the works in person. Viewing the paintings was as much an act of deduction as it was an act of esthetic appreciation. I’d form theories as to how the artist had achieved a certain effect, and then go home and test my theories to see if they were correct. Before too long, I’d taught myself to paint the way I do today.
Probably one of the most useful things I was able to learn from someone else was the concept of safe and archival painting techniques. I was able to attend lectures one summer at the University in Cambridge, England, and one of the lecturers was from the Hamilton-Kerr Institute of conservation. He gave a course on conservation and restoration techniques that really opened my eyes to the proper, safe, and respectful way in which a painting should be created. Since then, researching safe painting techniques and media has been a hobby of mine. Ignorance of proper painting techniques is probably the biggest problem plaguing the modern world of painting, technically speaking.
As far as schools of Romanticism go, I’d say no schools taught Romanticism in the past, none teach it now, and I don’t think there will ever be such a school in the future. Don’t get me wrong though. I’m not being pessimistic by saying that. It’s just that Romanticism isn’t something you can learn from other people. It can’t be taught like geometry or drafting or aerospace engineering, even though it effects every one of those disciplines. Fundamentally, I think true Romanticism is a belief in the power, ability and virtue of man--the belief that man is good. How can an artist, or anyone for that matter learn such a thing in school? A school can teach realism, and there have been a lot of great schools that have done that, but it can’t teach students to love themselves and believe in the power of their own mind. That’s something everyone has to discover on their own, through their own experiences, triumphs, failures and revelations.
You don’t have to be an artist to be a Romantic, you just have to love life and believe in man’s ability to live by his own mind. That’s why Romanticism touches every discipline and field of practice, not just art. And that’s why Romantic art is so important.
The best school would identify students who are Romantics and then teach them all the technical knowledge and skills they needed to create works that exemplified the love for life within them. I don’t think a school like that has ever existed, or exists today, but it could exist in the future.
As for right now, there does seem to be a growing interest in Romantic Realist works. There aren’t many artists practicing it, but those who do, I think, are finding pretty good success through new outlets such as the Quent Cordair Fine Art Gallery, which is, as far as I know, the only existing gallery that specializes in Romantic Realism. In time, I imagine there will be even greater opportunities for up-and-coming Romantic Realists as far as education and market demand is concerned. In the future I myself hope to establish a more traditional-style studio in which I can accept and train multiple apprentices, or possibly even as an informal kind of school for Romantic Realists.

P: What are your aesthetic ideals?
D: My main focus is on man. That is, mankind, his actions, his thoughts, his accomplishments, his virtues. That’s why I’m primarily a figure painter. I just don’t have much interest in other genres of painting unless it somehow relates to mankind.
But figure painting--good figure painting--isn’t easy by a long shot. That’s one of its greatest appeals: it’s a real challenge. The human form is the most complex subject, governed by the strictest rules, that a painter can choose to portray. Throw into the mix a

portrayal of his thoughts, emotions and motivations, and your task becomes wonderfully difficult. If you paint a tree or building and forget to put a shadow in the right place, few will notice or care. But make the same mistake on a figure and it will destroy your composition, turn a beautiful woman into a twisted horror, and change a peaceful, intelligent expression into a disturbing, creepy stare. It’s exactly the kind of work that suits my methodical style and I love it.
So far I’ve tended toward the subtle and beautiful in my paintings, although by no means is that my only interest. I fully intend to take on more dramatic themes and compositions in the future, but all in good time. Ideas are plentiful, time is not.
Being a highly creative person, I think I tend toward subjects that idealize the creative process. My own love of and involvement with painting, music and the arts has inspired a lot of ideas for compositions featuring artists at work creating. Whether it’s dancers, musicians, painters, or builders, I find them all fascinating. One of the paintings I’m working on now, in fact, is of a painter at work.
The truth is, the act of creating is by far and wide my favorite activity. I love bringing my own ideas into reality, and I love coming up with new ideas to realize. Most of the things I’m passionate about are somehow related to this fact. That’s probably why my paintings include fairly rich and detailed environments compared to others: I really enjoy creating every aspect of my ideal world, down to the smallest details. They’re all very important to me to make my vision complete. I believe entirely in artistic selectivity and elimination of the inconsequential. But if I’m going to paint a picture of an ideal man, I want him to be in an ideal world. In my ideal world, grass doesn’t look like astro-turf, cities aren’t barren of people or cars, and the laws of physics are firmly in place. Everything in my paintings serves a purpose. That purpose is to create my version of the ideal world or man.

If you are interested in interviewing Damon Denys please send your inquiry to webmaster@rationalart.com.