You might be wondering what credentials I, Johnnie Liliedahl, artist,
possess to “certify” someone as a fine art instructor.

I never aspired to be a teacher. In fact, as a young person, it wasn’t even on my list of possibilities for a career. I prepared myself to study science, math and engineering from elementary school through high school. My only brush with art was a love of theater and literature, which I enjoyed as extracurricular activities.

In college, I majored alternatively in Chemistry and Physics, English Literature, Business Adminstration, and Theater Arts. I loved all equally. A fine arts counselor advised me to be practical and get a degree in something I could make a living with, unless I wanted to sacrifice home and family. Of all the business choices, only Economics offered a Bachelor of Arts that would accept almost all my liberal arts and science/math credits toward a degree.

Economics is the study of human behavior and how actions by one individual or group cause reactions to and by other groups. It is an art because of this behavioral aspect. It can be described quantitatively by the use of math and statistics. I attacked Economics with enthusiasm, and came to love it as much as my other studies. I was prepared for a long career in this field, with goals of ending up at the Federal Reserve near policy makers like Alan Greenspan.

Upon graduation with my BA in Economics, I was recommended by my major professor to teach Economics at a local community college. Having never taught anything before, I had no confidence that I could do it, but that professor changed my life by assuring me that I could. He persuaded me, I got the job, and began teaching in 1970. I had no teacher training other than my own observations of the best teachers I had encountered. They were my examples whose standards I strove to emulate. I had experienced both good and bad teachers, and I could tell the difference!

Economics is a complicated subject. Everything you observe is influenced by, or depends on, something else happening. Almost everyone who studies it does so because it is a required course for graduation, not an elective. Therefore, most students in college economics courses are there just to collect a credit. Creating enthusiasm for a subject students expect to hate is a great challenge. A good teacher needs a bit of theater in their background. Luckily, I had it. A bit of the ham and no fear of speaking in public is a great asset for teaching, I learned. Teaching wasn’t so different from stage acting--as long as one was prepared and remembered their lines!

Not wanting to ever be caught unprepared to answer a question, I studied harder to develop my lesson plans than I ever did to pass a final exam. Every day that I stood in front of several groups of 40 adult students, I passed a test of analytical skill, quick thinking and oral delivery. The real test came, however, when the students I taught took their own periodic and final exams. I devised every type of test you would expect in an institution of higher learning: true/false, multiple-choice, problem-solving and essay. The essays were the easiest to devise and the hardest to grade, but they were my favorite, as they would give the students the option of telling more than I asked to know. I would use this format later as the model for my certification requirements for our Fine Art Instructors.

The college required the students to hand in instructor critiques for every class so the department head and the instructors could evaluate the teacher’s performance. I consistently received comments such as, “I never enjoyed or understood the purpose of algebra before taking your economics classes.” Or “I thought this would be such a boring class, but now I think I might major in economics.” Or “you have such an excitement about economics that it makes it more interesting than I expected.” And “you made a boring class bearable.”

I found that I loved teaching. Who wouldn’t, with this kind of validation?

About the time I began teaching Economics, I enrolled in art classes at a local art supply store. It was a relaxing diversion from the intensive study and preparation for my own Economics classes. But, never being one to tackle a new subject half-heartedly, I soaked up everything I could with voracity. I discovered a latent talent for painting but knew right away that I needed a greater understanding to be able to paint well, even for fun. I quickly found that the in-depth instruction I sought was not available in these types of classes. And, it wasn’t an option to go back to college for a pastime activity when I had graduate school in Economics facing me.

Three, life-changing things happened.

First, I had my third child just when the college required me to complete my masters degree. I took a sabbatical leave of one year to spend time with my infant before returning to graduate school and full-time teaching simultaneously.

Second, some friends who had admired my paintings asked if I would teach them to paint. Having free time I agreed, never knowing that this would be a career-defining choice. I quickly learned that I didn’t know enough to teach, even though I knew more than they did, so I set about to quickly acquire more knowledge about the subject.

Third, I had the exceptionally good luck to come across a working artist who taught regular, weekly, fine art classes, and I studied with her continuously for that year, in virtually every class she taught. She provided the foundation that I have built upon ever since. Because she was so accessible, and so knowledgeable, I didn’t realize how rare a resource she was until much later. She would be the model for the classes I now conduct.

Under her instruction, I quickly learned and began to offer private, introductory painting classes of my own in another small town. My classes grew as word of mouth drew more students to me. By now, you should be able to foresee the outcome. I was setting my own schedule, making a decent income, spending more time with my family, and without having to get a master’s degree! This was 1975. I never returned to teaching Economics, or pursuing the Federal Reserve track.

By now, consumed with a passion for painting, I began studying with every working fine artist I could. In 1980, I went into business for myself by opening a commercial studio with a full schedule of on-going, weekly art classes. The pace was grueling and allowed me little time to paint for myself. All of my students were local, and most were painting for a pleasant pastime. But I taught as I always had--at a college level, for serious adult students.

By 1987, I began to think once again of academia, and how I would like to reach young artists in the beginning of their careers. To do that, I would have to return to school myself and pursue that masters degree after all, this time as a Master of Fine Arts. Painting, and teaching painting, both gave me a great sense of satisfaction and purpose, and combining the two was inevitable.

So, I enrolled in my state flagship-university with a full-time schedule of painting and art history courses. I had closed my commercial studio by this time, having decided on returning to the world of academic instruction as my career. Once again, I was pursuing higher education.

It was an education all right--just not the one I expected. While the art history classes were outstanding, and essential to my development as an art educator, I was dismayed to find that there was no actual instruction offered in the painting classes. I was obviously not a typical student (being 20 years older than most), but I didn’t expect that I would be a better resource or example for my fellow students than were the instructors.

Even though I was enrolled in graduate-level courses, the work being done by the other students was primitive, unschooled and undirected. They exhibited few drawing skills, and even fewer compositional skills, and the instructors expected nothing more. Critiques were exercises in obfuscation. The language of traditional painting was obviously an unknown dialect. In the courses I was enrolled, the students were actually discouraged from learning or practicing the skill of drawing accurately, or searching for beauty in the form. Only ugliness and distortion were rewarded with good grades. The more bizarre the painting exercise, the higher the praise.

Did I pass the courses? Of course….with straight A’s. I learned the first day how to play the game, and I wasn’t about to foul up my GPA by protesting the merits of their grading system. I painted as bizarrely, and more so, than everyone else, and privately wondered how such a system has come to pass. I know how, but that’s part of what I teach in my School of Oil Painting now.

Had I been 18 years old, I wouldn’t have questioned the system. But, with the background of having been a college teacher myself, and feeling an obligation to actually teach a highly complicated subject in an understandable manner, I could not abide or accept the terms offered me for a Masters of Fine Art at that university. In the end, the education I received was that there was a crying need for an alternative to the blather offered in the name of academic instruction.

I recognized that if I wanted to achieve real progress and development in my work, I would have to go to a source which would actually teach me something. So, instead of wasting any more time at the university, I began studying with the best fine artists I could find. Being working artists, they had only limited time to devote to teaching or workshops, so progress was slow, but I gained ground and continually grew as a painter. I pursued every avenue outside the academic arena that was open to me as a path to learn. I traveled to Europe to the great museums, studied the paintings first hand, copied many of the great 19th century paintings, and painted, painted, painted.

Throughout all the years described above, I continued to teach workshops and classes of my own, as I truly believe that the best way to internalize a new skill, concept or idea is to share it, through teaching, with others. I began to share my own knowledge by writing art instruction books, periodicals, lesson plans, and ultimately videos to reach a greater and greater body of students. The growth of our publications business is testament to the insatiable market for truly good instruction. Never have I stopped my own personal study as a path to continued improvement and growth--and I never will.

In 1988, the germination of the idea for an institutional program of study in traditional oil painting began to grow. By 1990, the goal was set. Ralph and I purchased land in 1993 to house our dream for a studio where a curriculum of classical painting studies would be offered. In 1999, that dream became a reality when we opened our present studio and Ralph joined me as a full-time business partner, taking over the administrative duties of the business portion, and freeing me to develop the painting curriculum.

In 2001, we offered our first, six-week School of Oil Painting program, which was an overwhelming success. Each year, we have added more workshops to the program and we currently offer 11 weeks of in-depth study, spread throughout the year. It is not surprising that many of our students come to us with Bachelors and Masters Degrees in Fine Art seeking to learn the traditional drawing and painting concepts that we offer.

Finally, in answer to the question of what empowers me to grant a certification as a Fine Art Instructor, I offer my credentials as a qualified, natural teacher who has successfully taught thousands of students the basic concepts of both math-oriented and conceptually-oriented subjects of economics and painting. I have a gift for analyzing complex relationships and explaining them in simple terms that anyone can understand. Once understood, these concepts can be taught by others. Analysis can be applied to any field of study----even art.

For credentials in the traditional painting concepts that I teach, I offer a gallery of my paintings as my best recommendation. Although one doesn't have to be Einstein to explain the theory of relativity, it certainly helps to see if a teacher can actually do the work they are teaching. Be your own judge of my qualifications as a painter by visiting my gallery.

My experience as a college instructor of Economics, a subject which requires testing to determine a student’s level of achievement, prepared me to devise an oral and performance test to determine if an art teacher knows enough to teach it to others. My standards are high, both for myself, and for my protégées.

No one receives a Certification without first demonstrating a required level of knowledge of each subject, as well as conducting a real workshop, as the instructor, while being observed and critiqued by me, personally. Each candidate is rated according to their demonstrated level of knowledge, preparation, ability to answer the student’s questions, and finally, on the outcome of their student’s work in the certification-workshop they teach. If they fail to reach a standard, they are required to study further before attempting the certification again.

The goal of our program is to offer the painter a body of knowledge that will empower them to paint on their own, without supervision. We train our teachers to pass on this body of knowledge so that they will also empower their students to reach their full, artistic potential.