Nelson
is an extraordinary realist painter whose collections are cherished all over
the world. He has generously shared his skills and interest with others by founding, Studio Incamminaiti in Philadelphia
to teach the rigors of realistic painting.
Your sensitivity and inclination to art showed itself in your early childhood years: “I started painting when I was 5. Did your parents encourage your passion for art? Were they creative individuals?
My mother was a pianist, so I was listening to great music all day long as a child and even now. And my father left for World War II, and in preparation for coming back, he bought an oil painting set for himself. I, at age five, promptly used it up.
And so, I would have been 5 when I did the first oil painting. Maybe not exactly what the average child would do because I was very interested in space and light and shadow and a few other things.
He also bought my mother one of the better coffee table books of that time; of course, they’re nothing like the ones now. It had illustrations of some of the great artists from the Early Renaissance on through the Impressionist, maybe even Post-Impressionist. It was about an inch-thick book, and I pretty much wore it out--just fascinated by the paintings. My favorites were, at that time, a certain early Renoir and then Rembrandt and Ingres and art like that. Even at age 5, I was captivated by this book and by art.
When you
were using that oil painting kit, were you looking at pictures at that time—or
in the mirror—or at your mother?
Actually at 5 years old, needless to say, I had no
experience. I had no formal education,
no education at all. And my aunt who I think was working in Los Alamos on the nuclear projects couldn’t send any postcards from there, so she sent things from Albuquerque, New Mexico. And so I received this Albuquerque postcard—I didn’t, my family did—and it was an Indian adobe house with these poles sticking out of the front and cast shadows running down the front of the adobe. And I found that fascinating, and that’s what I painted—not normally what, as they say, a five year old would paint. We still have that silly little picture.
As far as
encouragement is concerned, I don’t think I received any negative
response. But my parents certainly were
not cheerleaders, so it was something sort of in between. I would run to my parents, every five minutes
and say “Look, look. This is the best thing
I’ve ever done.” They didn’t ridicule me
at least.
Your father
must have particularly had some art sensitivity. How many fathers from World
War II, having been away, or not even away, would buy an oil painting set and
this particular book?
True, he had
even done a pastel or two. Although he
was a very busy businessman, he did have interest there.
As a
teenager you demonstrated not just incredible talent but also a strong sense of
independence. You began studying at the Art Students League in NYC at 18 and
managed to earn your own tuition through work at the school. Do you ever look back and wonder about being
so young with such drive and focus?
It is kind
of remarkable; I honestly can’t account for it. I did go to college for a
couple of years and I was thoroughly bored.
I would find myself on weekends running to museums and studying various
paintings, particularly among which was Rembrandt, of course. By the time I got to New York, I was
completely captivated by the idea of being a painter and so I dedicated my
whole life to it. Beginning then work was something I enjoyed. Work—if painting is work—why, then I was
working. But I feel a little guilty
calling it “work” because I am so involved in it. It’s a compulsion, and it’s gratifying at the
same time—very gratifying.
With
prestigious grants you studied in Italy returning later to teach in Memphis,
Chicago, New York (Art Students League, The National Academy of Design) and
then Bucks County, Pennsylvania. During the years that you were strengthening
your skills as a realist painter, were you also reflecting on your next move to
art education?
Quite
frankly, at that point, I was consumed with learning all these skills myself
and gaining capability. I was aware that
it was just completely incredulous that the teaching level was so pathetic that
I just felt challenged to try to do something about it in my own way. And I’ve had a compulsion to do that ever
since, for the last 50 years.
You have
continued to teach. You generously established an art apprentice program in
your home studio at no cost to the student and then considering the high demand
for developing skills in painting realism; you founded Studio Incamminati in
Philadelphia. That was a huge investment
of your time and energy. What support did you have to make that happen so
successfully?
Well, the
students who came to me pleading that I teach in Philadelphia were my biggest,
let’s say, fan club, and they were the most encouraging because they were very,
very excited about the idea of something being created. The first few years, I was the sole teacher,
and so I was there teaching two or three days a week, all day. And it was sort of holding back my own
work. So, as the years have gone by,
I’ve had students whom I have trained become the teachers. And this is part of the philosophy—that the
students become teachers and start doing a little bit of teaching rather early
on in their education. Now we’ve
developed some absolutely superb teachers and painters who are going around this
country and the world teaching. This is
only the beginning of what will definitely be expanded.
That’s
sensational. It’s really giving
back.
It’s working
big time.
Oh wow, I
can barely remember. I know that a
businessman, an associate of my father’s, asked me to paint a portrait, but it
was way too early. I didn’t have that
kind of confidence when I was about nineteen.
Then when I was in New York studying, I was asked to paint the head
minister of the All Saints Unitarian Church on Madison Avenue in New York, and
I painted Dr. Walter Donald Crane. Right
about that time, I also went to Europe—to Italy for a couple of years—so I
painted a lot of friends and a lot of things but not high profile commissions. So let’s see, oh gosh, it’s very hard to
remember. It's just been a question of
slowly going up a staircase. And it’s
hard to know if there’s any one point where the light starts flashing and
suddenly, oh boy, I’m painting some important people. I don’t put that much into the celebrity
status, because I’ve come to the conclusion that all people have depth, and all
people have something that I would love to extrude and put into a
painting. And so, it’s not just kings
and queens and princesses that I go into with depth. It’s virtually everything I paint,
frankly.
Then again
getting to know these people—some, I have become very good friends with. Perhaps the deepest relationship might be
with Diana, but I also had a wonderful relationship with Margaret
Thatcher. I painted her twice, so I
spent many, many hours with her—both during the paintings and other times. We were great friends. Generally speaking, we make friends. And because I’m painting friends, their humanity is very much in the forefront. It’s very gratifying that way because I don’t hide what I’m doing and then sort of flash it to them at the end. They are part of the process, and they see what I’m doing the whole way. And I think they really, really gain from it. People I never would have expected would get excited and interested in the project do become interested and excited about the project. So, that’s very gratifying. I’m not just painting an object. So, it makes a big difference.
Now that you
are famous and in museums, galleries and collections all over the world, do you
have an agent(s) for your art or do commissions come to you directly?
Well, they normally come to me directly. I run across so many people and so many
people are aware of my work that I don’t need someone out there peddling
it. But often I’ll get, for example, a
recommendation—someone will be sent to me by a museum director or museum
curators or people that are in the art world or that kind of thing—or just
because of connections that have somehow or other been attained over the last
half-century. But selling paintings—I
just run across people that really want them, and that’s very gratifying.
Occasionally, I will have a
show with an exhibition, for example I just had two very, very important
exhibitions in Russia. I was invited by
the Russian Academy of Art to have a major exhibition there, and I did, two
years ago. And then the State Russian
Museum in St. Petersburg wanted the same show and got it. So, I showed at the two very major Russian
Museums. And that was I guess word of
mouth, people heard about me, or whatever, and they approached me.
You have
said that “You cannot make a major difference doing things in a minor way”. Has
that belief driven you to succeed?
With the major things in my life, my painting, and therefore my
teaching—and of course my family—there is no element of complacency as I
approach these things, and that might be represented by calling it in a minor
way. So for example—the teaching—I could
teach a few students or have a few apprentices here living with me around the
house, but actually I think reaching a greater number of people and influencing
art worldwide is my ambition. I think we’re well on the road. I think art needs some major changes. And what they call modern art is just
ridiculous. I think it’s time to reset
the clock and reset the direction of art, and we’re doing that. But it’s a big responsibility to teach
people not just talk about it.
Words almost become meaningless.
But I think we can change some things, but there has to be better art
out there for people to grasp on to. And
with great hope and luck, I and some of these students will provide that. So that’s what I mean by doing something in a
big way. But I don’t mean that you
should make—when you fix breakfast—spend a lifetime on it. I think you do have to select the most
important things to address your time with.
At 75, you
remain very active by painting almost daily and continuing to teach at Studio
Incamminati. Do you have daily routines? Do you still have any unfulfilled
goals?
I have exactly the same routine I think I’ve always had, but maybe
it’s more of a routine than it ever was.
I get up early, often its dark and I’ll come to the studio very early in
the morning, and I will paint without sitting down often for ten or eleven or
even twelve hours.
And, it’s no more difficult for me to do that now, in fact perhaps
easier than it ever was because it’s become quite a habit. I do know that many of my students fall on
the floor in exhaustion after about an hour, and I’m like the little battery
that keeps on going. And I feel I have
every bit as much energy and a whole lot more experience and ability than I had
when I was much younger.
Do you work
out? Do you do some physical exercises
that help you maintain this incredible routine?
A little, but I have little, little ambition to become an Arnold
Schwarzenegger.
Do you
possibly have any unfulfilled goals at this point?
Just more and better paintings—I think my paintings are almost
becoming more ambitious in the last five or six years than they’ve ever
been—and more complicated. I think
they’re more competent. I think they
have greater appeal visually, and I think they’re more exciting. I think they have greater depth, and so this
is all an accumulation of knowledge that I’ve gained over all these years. And I’m enjoying the heck out of being
competent.
But, there is nothing like knowledge, and one of my statements
that I would make, unsolicited from you, is that “show me somebody that is
self-taught, and I’ll show you someone who is incompetent and ignorant.” Because there is such a vast, vast, vast resource
in art history and those paintings and painters that have come before, that
somebody who has not seen those—because if they’ve seen those at all and
studied them at all, then they’re not self-taught—they’re getting it
from—self-taught means total ignorance, and I’m not for that at all. I think the more you know, the greater the
creativity.
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