We recently connected with Shelby Rodeffer and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Shelby, thanks for joining us today. Learning the craft is often a unique journey from every creative – we’d love to hear about your journey and if knowing what you know now, you would have done anything differently to speed up the learning process.

My path to sign painting has been long and winding, with a lot of learning on the job.

In decades and centuries past, one would enter the sign painting trade by way of an apprenticeship or trade program. Even today, there are a few sign painting college programs that remain active. There weren’t any opportunities like that growing up north of Nashville, Tennessee.

I went to a small private art school called Watkins College of Art & Design for illustration and printmaking. It was during college that I developed a love for letterforms and for making my own lettering. I didn’t even know sign painting was a trade until the Sign Painters book (Levine & Macon) came out in 2011, and then the documentary in 2013. This blew my mind open. Until then, I had assumed all of the hand-painted signs I had seen in rural Tennessee and in the honky tonks of Nashville were painted by the business owner, in lieu of paying for an updated digital sign. I even learned that a great uncle of mine had been a sign painter in my hometown.

The sign painting trade all but died in the late 1900s, with the advent of digital design software and the vinyl plotter. There were still hundreds of people keeping the craft alive, but in Nashville, they were hard to find. That’s when I made the decision to move to Chicago, Illinois. Chicago is the birthplace and home of so much special American culture (warehouse music! civil rights and activism! Chicago dogs and jibaritos!) and its history of sign painting is very, very rich. During my first year in the city, I went to a screening of the Sign Painters documentary, figuring that would be a good place to run into other people who were at least interested in the trade. That night, I met living legends Robert Frese, Bob Behounek, Pat Finley, Jeff Williams, and many more. These were the men who were IN THE DOCUMENTARY we were watching. I also met a lot of folks my age who were either already working as sign painters or aspiring to.

Still, an apprenticeship alluded me. Many of the painters that I really wanted to learn from were retired and no longer taking clients but saving their talents for charity events. Others had become experts in a very specialized form of sign painting, and to take on a pupil with no foundational skills would be too much of a commitment. So, I did something that so many people do without a clear path to their goals: I decided to “fake it ’til I made it”. I began painting panels in my apartment after work every night and taking sign painting workshops around the country when I could.

It was through the piecemeal approach of learning through workshops that I really learned how to paint signs. You have to sit knee-to-knee with someone to understand how to pallet a brush, or how to thin your paint. At each workshop, I would hear the same thing, “THIS is the only right way to do it!” and that’s how I learned that there are so many “right” ways to paint signs. Learning from so many people, I was able to use the techniques that I found helpful as an individual. Unlearning the rigidness of the craft brought me into a place in sign painting that I had been waiting years to find: my own little corner, with my individual style, and without the weight of comparison bearing down on my as it had before.

Shelby, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

Sign painting and mural painting are wonderfully democratic art forms. They bring art into community spaces. They interact with people, both on merely instructive and purely aesthetic levels. They blur the lines between practicality and beauty, between commercial signage, neighborhood beautification, and fine art. I have a deep appreciation for the unique styles, flourishes, and evidence of the human hand in these public-facing works, and for the ways that they color the landscape of our community.

My studio art incorporates elements of sign painting and hand-lettering as well, pairing these with human and architectural forms to explore themes of connection and isolation. I often use found surfaces – scraps of wood discarded in America’s anonymous alleys – to display scenes and messages that are sometimes blithely commercial, and other times deeply personal, somber, and political. Recently, I’ve been developing a body of hand-sewn painted banners, modeled from those created and carried by the tradesmen of Europe and secret societies in the United States. My pieces draw on a rich history of activism, and of the power of unity to amplify otherwise isolated minority voices. They explore personal and political themes such as womanhood, fair labor, and radical change within stayed cultural institutions.

As a woman participating in a predominantly white male tradition of sign painting, building a more inclusive and supportive community among my fellow artists has become central to my practice. While I am still working to establish myself in the field, in recent years, I’ve had the privilege of producing events, curating shows, and organizing forums to amplify diverse voices in sign painting and in the broader Chicago art community. In 2017, I partnered with Meredith Kasabian, co-founder of the Pre-Vinylite Society, an international network of sign painting enthusiasts, to co-curate “The Pre-Vinylette Society: An International Showcase of Women Sign Painters” at the Chicago Art Department. More than 60 female sign painters from nine countries displayed their work in the show. The result was not only an inspirational public exhibition, but also the creation of a robust network of women makers who continue to share skills, support, and ideas to this day.

I look forward to future collaborations with emerging and diverse artists as an integral part of my own artistic journey. I hope to continue to hone my craft, make and share personal work, and participate in projects that bring vibrance to the public spaces in my community.

Have you ever had to pivot?

In 2018, I fell under the wrath of a larger sign painting company. Most independent sign painters such as myself live comfortably with what others would consider “competition.” In reality, I have found that there is generally enough work for everyone, and that different personalities and styles attract different clients. There weren’t many times in my career where I actually felt like I was in a contest with my peers.

This sounds pretty unbelievable, but the larger sign company began monitoring my social media and websites for any new projects I was working on so that they could attempt to report any infractions to the city. They also did this to a few of their former employees who went out on their own. From what I learned, there was someone working in their office who would be tasked with checking in on me weekly.

Dealing with a situation like this—which felt very much like bullying—took a toll on my mental health and I had to step away from the industry to focus on getting better. While I do not wish anyone else to be forced away from their passion due to someone else’s greed, taking a break from sign painting afforded me so many opportunities that weren’t even on my radar.

In 2019, I got the opportunity to work with teenagers in the Washington Park neighborhood of Chicago to create block club signs for communities in Chicago. Block clubs are an institution in Chicago, especially on its South and West sides, where redlining and racist infrastructure have left neighborhoods with unique safety issues. Block clubs allow the neighborhood to create its own set of community bylaws and norms, and create a larger voice when the community needs help improving their neighborhood. Getting to meet so many people who work hard to care for their neighbors, and getting to employ teens to use art for good was a very rewarding experience.

I also began focusing more on my personal work, including textile art. Until this point, my art was mainly commercial and I had struggled to find my voice in image-making. Participating in art therapy for my mental health only bolstered this dialogue further, and my personal art practice is now my primary source of income.

I still paint signs, but being able to prioritize art over commercial work is a blessing that I don’t think I would have gotten to experience unless I had struggled and made a pivot in my career.

In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?

Being an artist right now is so different than it’s ever been. To support an artist now, you don’t have to commission them for an original piece. Artists can be supported by following them online, liking and sharing their work, and giving them opportunities to share about their practice (for instance, this interview!)

Other amazing tools for artists now are things that provide passive income (invaluable for the artist that struggles with mental or physical health and can’t always be creating) such as Patreon, or other subscription-based support.

If you do have the money to support an artist, always make that decision. Filling your home with unique pieces of art is a decision that you won’t regret. If my house catches on fire, I am running out with my cats and some special pieces that I have bought from artists that I admire.

Contact Info:

• Website: shelbyrodeffer.com finersigns.com
• Instagram: @smellby @finersigns

Image Credits
Shelby Rodeffer