Day 2: Glen Cebulash

I am thankful for a professor I had in my studio art classes in undergrad. His name is Glen Cebulash and he is now the Chair of the Department of Art and Art History at Wright State University. I enjoyed his classes because he taught me how to see things differently. Instead of seeing a leaf hanging in front of a tree, I saw the shadows of the leaf against the tree and the negative space that surrounded it. Instead of looking at something and trying to draw that one perfect line or worrying about fitting a whole scene into a piece, I drew blindly when starting a new piece, never taking my eyes off the scene/object, letting my hand flow freely on the page. Of the most valuable things I learned, I learned my senior year in his Drawing IV class: you can’t rush it.

I, like many other seniors in their last classes edging towards graduation, rushed my very last piece I had to turn in for his class. We were to choose a painting of the old Masters and draw it on a large scale. I chose Oath of the Horatii (1784) by Jacques-Louis David. I spent a good two weeks on that drawing off and on and I thought I did pretty well considering the other finals I had to study for, the rest of the portfolio I had to get ready with the works I’d done throughout the quarter, and working every day. As it turned out, the second I put that drawing up on the wall, I knew I was very wrong. He looked at it for a long time and then asked me if I thought that was the best I could do. A hushed “no” came from my mouth. After that, it was horrible. He trashed nearly every part of my drawing from top to bottom, from left to right. Screamed, yelled, arms flailed about. Frankly, it was pissing me off and I couldn’t wait to get out of there. It was the worst critique I’ve ever been through.

By the time the meeting was over, I was close to tears but refused to let him see me cry. As soon as I hit the door out of the CAC, the tears fell. And they weren’t sad tears; they were mad, angry, infuriated tears. The anger was aimed towards Glen because I couldn’t believe the things he had just said to me. I took the rolled up drawing and shoved it in the trunk of my car, slamming it shut. Didn’t he know how much time I had put into that drawing? Didn’t he know that I had a thousand other things going on at the same time? Yeah, he knew all of that. But he also knew I could do ten times better than what I’d turned in.

It took me a few years to get that drawing out of my trunk, and when I finally unrolled it from its completely disheveled state, the horror struck me again. Only that time, it was the horror of how wrong I was and how right he was. I will never forget how I felt the day of that critique 13 years ago and the mess I made of that drawing. It was just a mess. Now, when I feel pressed for time, I stop and take a breather and try those techniques he taught me on how to look at things differently. And sometimes, I even surprise myself.

Please check out some of Glen's fantastic paintings and drawings. He is someone I will always remember and look up to in the art world.

Oath of the Horatii (1784)