
Insights on contemporary realism art and artists >
By Julyan Davis
Today, many people are concerned about the potential competitive threat posed by artificial intelligence (AI), but for a long time, young artists have felt challenged by technology in general and at a loss for inspiration. Some of the brightest fine art stars on social media seem close to burning out, which makes me wonder why people with such talent and popularity can be heard wondering aloud what to paint next, even whether they should change fields.
A clue lies near at hand: try finding something fresh on your smartphone. Unfortunately, the algorithms we find there, built over the years through our own likes and settings, make it harder to find new imagery and ideas. This confluence of positive reinforcement, search engines, and market forces is powerful, but there are ways to break free.

Past & Present
When I arrived in America 30 years ago, I was lucky to stumble into both the atelier and plein air communities, where I met passionate advocates of traditions I hadn’t encountered at art school back in London. There were fewer artists like us back then, and so there was far less competition. We all knew each other, or at least each other’s work, and we all made a living off art. We drew strength from being ignored by the official art world, and our rebellion, in the form of keeping traditions alive, was the justification for retracing older, neglected paths. There was little discussion about “what to paint next.”
Since then, ateliers have sprung up everywhere and plein air groups abound. Contemporary realism is flourishing. On top of this, talent that once would have been directed toward the fields of illustration and graphic design now pours into the world of representational painting. This growth has brought new challenges. Today, realist artists must vie for sales and recognition in an increasingly competitive market.
In fact, all of this has happened before. An extreme example is the art boom in 17th-century Holland, where hundreds of thousands of paintings were made and sold in a matter of decades, most remaining in that small country. Almost every Dutch person became a collector. It sounds idyllic, but the reality for most artists was exhausting; competition forced prices down and made their paintings almost worthless.
During that so-called Golden Age, a painting was not a cry from the artist’s soul, but the dogged production of a skilled artisan who belonged to a guild. From the late 18th century onward, everything changed. The spirit of romanticism made the artist’s life more meaningful, but also harder. Ever since, artists have been nudged toward both self-expression and constant evolution; unlike their Dutch forerunners, few artists are content, or encouraged, to stick to one subject or manner for an entire career.
I have one prevailing concern when I meet talented young artists: will they be able to stay the course? Youth is full of creativity, and it’s easy for prodigious talent to cause a stir at the outset. Yet we all know people who have started out on the creative path only to face disappointment when they run out of ideas. Few schools prepare students for decades of creativity, and it seems unfair to send young people into the world unarmed in this regard. The atelier fulfills the young artist’s desire for emulation and perfection, but what follows? Mastering technique is like mastering grammar: what sentences and paragraphs will these people write over a lifetime? And will the art market allow them to evolve throughout that lifetime?
Words of Advice for Contemporary Realism Artists
The art dealer Paul Klein (1946–2020) said the most important attribute for any artist is to “be distinctive.” That’s great, but where does she or he find the surprises that break the algorithm? Originality is about curiosity, and about staying open to surprise.

The feisty artist Ben Shahn (1898–1960) conveyed this deftly in a 1957 lecture he gave at Harvard:
“Listen well to all conversations and be instructed by them and take all seriousness seriously. Never look down upon anything or anyone as not worthy of notice. In college or out of college, read. And form opinions! … Look at pictures and more pictures. Look at every kind of visual symbol, every kind of emblem; do not spurn signboards or furniture drawings or this style of art or that style of art. Do not be afraid to like paintings honestly or to dislike them honestly, but if you do dislike them retain an open mind. Draw and draw and paint and learn to work in many media; try lithography and aquatint and silkscreen. Know all that you can about art, and by all means have opinions. Never be afraid to become embroiled in art of life or politics; never be afraid to learn to draw or paint better than you already do; and never be afraid to undertake any kind of art at all, however exalted or however common, but do it with distinction.”
Shahn reminds us that art comes not just from seeing but from discourse, from broad-minded thinking, from living. I can’t add much to this, but here are some suggestions I’ve given young artists.
- Know your particular angst(s). From the start, life provides us with existential questions we will likely never answer. An artist is someone who latches onto such issues like a terrier. The idea that art isn’t about subject matter (“It isn’t what you paint, it’s how you paint it”) is a modernist mantra that is mostly nonsense. Artists’ interaction with the world is their subject matter. Chekhov said the artist’s job was “the proper presentation of the problem.” So know your problem(s).
- Don’t mimic your idols. Back in the ’80s, a young musician told me that he and his band wanted to sound like U2. I asked what their influences were. He replied, “U2.” That didn’t sound promising because copying doesn’t go far. If you are strongly drawn to an artist, look at their origins because distinctive work is usually the last twig on a branch. Better to follow the branch (and trunk) to discover their influences. It also helps to examine art that leaves you dissatisfied and then to ask why. Inspiration can come from works that seem to provide a new solution but (for us at least) fail to do so.
- Study photography and film for subject matter and composition. Photography is far too important to be ignored by representational painters. The anathema to working from photos in ateliers (and among plein air painters) too often becomes a lack of curiosity in the artform itself. Master painters like Degas and Sargent knew better. Over the course of its history, steered by its limitations, photography has generally left painting far behind in its daring exploration of composition.
- Be open to accidents. Academic training tends toward rigidity. Director Stanley Kubrick, a true obsessive, could nonetheless declare, “The key part in shooting a film is not to necessarily execute what you had in mind, but stay loose in case you have a better idea.” Arriving in a new city, young artists go straight to the art museum, and then straight to their heroes’ work. But more experienced artists often speak of learning to find inspiration elsewhere in the museum — in the displays of “other” art they once ignored.
- Two good places to be caught off-guard, and to find both mental and visual inspiration, are secondhand bookshops and “junk” shops. The world’s clutter offers an exciting break from your phone’s assumptions about our tastes. Paul Klein wanted us to be distinctive, and our uniqueness comes from how we fuse all of our varied, often clashing, passions.

Ben Shahn attending Harvard University’s Commencement, 1957 - Ben Shahn was right about experimenting with different media, but today this takes some doing due to two factors. First, the facility we achieve in one medium often makes us reluctant to attempt another, and second, there are the expectations of the art market. For much of the 20th century, the wide-ranging success of such modernists as Picasso and Matisse (who made paintings, sculpture, prints, glass, ceramics, textiles, and so much more) helped galleries and museums see that artists would, and should, experiment. Not anymore. Indeed, today’s art boom resembles Holland’s Golden Age in its ferocious pigeonholing of the artist. Perhaps modernism’s greatest gift was the freedom it gave to artists. It’s worth fighting to get that back now.
- Aim for the impossible. After all, practitioners in other artforms set high bars. Can you paint a work as evocative as a piece of music? As stirring as a great movie? As insightful as a novel? New ground will be broken even when you try and fail.

Popularity on social media is comforting for only so long. Breaking the algorithm brings with it risk and change, but it also protects the young artist from burning out. From the 1980s onward, classical realists rightly sought to keep historic traditions alive, but in rejecting modernism entirely, they often threw the good out with the bad. Realism’s current renaissance proves we don’t have to return to the caste system of the 19th-century academies, nor to artists’ earlier marginalization as mere artisans.
Now is the time to fuse craft, passion, and experiment.
About the Author: JULYAN DAVIS is an American artist and novelist. He has painted the landscape, architecture, and folklore of the United States for more than 30 years.
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