On a Monday night, we gather in Mount Gretna’s Hall of Philosophy to hear Stanley Lewis talk about his work. Instead of showing his own paintings Stanley puts up a slide of Egyptian relief sculptures and commands that everyone in the audience draws from it. “We are all going to figure this out together!” This is the resounding theme of Stanley’s presence: There is something essential that we are all figuring out and the only way we can attempt this, is by joining each other in its demand.
There are 20 of us studying at Mount Gretna School of Art over seven weeks of nonstop painting, drawing, attending lectures, and receiving critiques. We are a varied group with a wide range of ages, and backgrounds, and have come from all over the country to dedicate our summer to working and learning alongside each other. Despite our differences, we are all united in one thing: a love for art and a commitment to making it a rich practice in our lives. Stanley Lewis encourages us to understand our lineage as painters, “Who are you? Who am I? Who was my teacher– you’ve got to figure out where you are. You have to go back and figure out where you are and work your way up from the start.”
On our first morning, Stanley confesses, “I think of myself as really, a kind of disaster. I’m leading you down a horrible path.” Stanley’s self-deprecating humor always gets a reaction out of the group. He claims his true influence is negativity, that he’s scared to go out into the landscape, and that the drawings he makes alongside us are horrible. “I thought today we’ll have a terrible day together. We’ll all make horrible paintings. We are all going to suffer, but we’ll have fun with it. We know where the coffee and donuts are.”
Stanley doesn’t get caught up in the barrier between student and teacher. He doesn’t impart wisdom or advice in the way you’d expect a teacher to. There are no formalities, no right or wrong answers. He extends advice to us as someone who is farther on the path. He puts the struggle in our hands and tells us how hard it is and will be. Fear and doubt permeate his language, but always, he tells us to keep pushing through and encourages us to figure it out.
“I paint in desperation and if you really suffer and do terribly for long enough you learn that you can handle it. It’s not impossible to be a true failure for a long, long time.” It is exciting to be in his presence. He has a contagious energy that seeps into our urgency for being out in the landscape. He sees painting as the ultimate challenge, a puzzle that can never be solved. We can only continue to fail toward it and see what the practice has to teach us.