We were lucky to catch up with Zoe Violett recently and have shared our conversation below.

Zoe , thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Can you tell us a bit about who your hero is and the influence they’ve had on you?

My Personal Hero? Easy. I dedicate and attribute much of my success as an artist and professional individual to my high school art teacher, Mr. Bill Ferrell.

Mr. Ferrell was not your average teacher, and thus his class was not your average high school art class. We didn’t paint the color wheel, or bowls of fruit. Rather, he focused his course on Commercial Art. How can artists really make it out in the real world, doing what they love for a profession? What does that look like? What living, breathing artists can we study who exemplify this very idea? How can we as young budding artists begin to conquer these challenges while in the classroom? Ferrell would discuss these topics and art with energy you’ve never seen before, keeping you engaged and on the edge of your seat

I took Commercial Art all 4 years of my high school career, as it elevated in difficulty as you progressed. Ferrell has this innate ability to push you further than you think is possible, while grinning, knowing very well what lies within you. In simple terms, he always saw something within us. Something we didn’t know was there.

After learning the building blocks for design and composure, he then challenges you to be better. Your first idea is never your best. He would say, “Think of 10 more!” We would have class critiques for our projects, and we were all extremely critical of each other, as it was our moral obligation to be (sometimes painfully) honest. We would also collectively celebrate each other’s breakthroughs and successes.. This was a difficult classroom for some, not recommended for the faint of heart. However, through these classes filled with blood, sweat, and tears, Ferrell instilled in us one of the greatest things I’ve ever learned; be fearless. When I was afraid I couldn’t execute a piece the way I envisioned, I would show hesitation to begin. Ferrell would know exactly what motivational words I needed to hear, and always end his inspirational speeches with, “remember, be fearless.” If you fail, be fearless enough to pick yourself up and try again. Then he would add, “Do or do not, there is no try.”

I have kept this affirmation with me as I have moved through life. Whether it was when I was applying to the college of my dreams (Ringling College of Art + Design), tackling art projects that seemed beyond my realm, or as I have been making my own name in the art community. Because of the training, education of artists and illustrators in real life, and fearless-ness Ferrell taught us, I was able to hone my skillset, and prepare myself for the daunting experience which Ringling College held for me.

I hear Ferrell whenever I am not pushing myself enough, when I know I can do more. I can also hear him saying, “I’m so proud of you.” when I accomplish great feats.

The Star Wars fanatic and Starbucks addict, Ferrell has influenced not only my art, but my path in life as well. As many sad and aimless high school students are, I wasn’t sure where my life would head, but I knew I liked to draw. He saw this, and he saw my potential, even when I didn’t. He aided in guiding me to find what I genuinely wanted to do with my craft, and how to pursue it. I am the artist, and person I am today because of this.

Consequently, Ferrell has inspired me to want to pass this outrageous, intense, awe-inspiring way of art education on to the next generation of high school students. The ones who are aimless, unsure, or who need someone to believe in them. To teach them how to be fearless.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

My years from high school through college have helped me learn to define my art and myself as an artist. In high school, I learned how to build my skills as an illustrator, in college I found my happy place in oil paint, as I was majoring in Illustration. I found my voice through my paints, indulging in the styles of classic Spanish baroque art with a mix of macabre and contemporary painters such as Malcolm Liepke.

However, through my college years I always did feel like a black sheep amongst my illustration major peers, who mostly stuck to their drawing tablets and Procreate. I hated doing any digital illustrations, although my instructors would insist, “This is what the industry is coming to.” It wasn’t until my senior year that I unapologetically started to create the art that I wanted, and create it how I wanted. This began with the idea for my senior thesis, “Compositions of Dead and Dying”. I loved the idea of combining elements of death and decay, with the beauty of life. So, I would arrange still life’s, with a bouquet of flowers at different stages of decomposition, juxtaposed with shadowed skulls or bones, lit by candlelight. This series came to be my callsign, and opened the doorway to what my work has become today.

Through my travels post-college, I have discovered my niche in my traditional oil painting which is influenced by classical artworks, classic horror icons, and my own self reflection of the world and its people. As I have popped up in the art community in Des Moines, IA and Chicago, IL I have gained an audience who appreciates the macabre combined with fine art elements, and a steady flow of commissioned art projects. I believe what draws people in to my work, is the dark theme that lies inside all of us. Some of us want to acknowledge it, some want to hide from it. But above all, it sparks an interest and certain mystifying characteristic that is hard to dismiss. It’s that feeling of, “Wow this person feels the way I do, or thinks the way I do, and illustrates it!”
There is more depth to my work, than say, a beautiful landscape. Granted, everyone loves a great landscape to behold. But, those who want a story that they define, to think and wonder, and to be encouraged to look introspectively, they gravitate to my art.

Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?

A story that I keep pocketed in the back of my mind whenever I am in need of courage to get back up again, is the story of my freshman year of college figure drawing class. The one thing I had not been prepared for.

I had never taken a live figure drawing class in my life, and when I showed up to my first figure drawing class of the year and realized everyone else in the room had, I felt quite inadequate. While the rest of my peers were taking these 2 minute gesture drawings like a piece of cake, I couldn’t have felt more disheartened, and ashamed of my work. My instructor pulled me aside at the end of class and asked if I had ever taken one of these classes before, I had not. He informed me that figure drawing/studying would be a core course for an Illustration major, and I had better get my act together and learn how to draw a figure from life if I wanted to proceed in this major and not fail the class.

After feeling defeated and anxious for every figure class, I took up the figure drawing tutoring classes on Wednesdays and Saturdays, 3hours a piece. These were the most intense and rigorous tutoring sessions I had ever experienced with the “tough love” approach to teaching. It sure got worse before it started to turn successful. I did nothing but draw people from life in my spare time, and eventually something in my brain switched. The way I looked at shape and form changed. I started to become proud of my class work, seeing the difference, and so could my instructor. At the end of the semester, the class had a critique on our “final” which was a 3 day pose fully rendered. At the end of the critique, my instructor named me greatest improvement and growth within the whole class.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

I think the main lesson and hardest lesson to unlearn throughout my life was that my art did not have to look a certain way in order for it to be considered “good”. This was especially challenging through college, when there was a certain style or “look” to a lot of the talented students’ illustrations. At first, I tried to adapt my own style to align with theirs, because there was this overarching consensus that good illustrators illustrated like this. Of course this seems preposterous now. We all know that there are infinite amounts of different talent in illustrations and art as a whole. But, I am in fact I am still unlearning this everyday when I am critiquing my own art. I know it to be un-true, but it still manages to creeps up in my head that my paintings have to look like any other famous or successful artist to have merit.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.zoeviolettart.com
• Instagram: theviolettstudio_
• Facebook: The Violett Studio
• Linkedin: Zoe Violett