ProWax Journal 2: Featured Article

The Weight: Dealing with the Issue of “Encaustic Art”

By Joanne Mattera

In 1998 Gail Stavitsky curated Waxing Poetic: Encaustic Art in America for the Montclair Art Museum in New Jersey. This was a landmark museum exhibition, a scholarly survey that placed  a historic medium within the context of contemporary art. The exhibition also introduced the phrase “encaustic art,” to a broad audience.  In an odd turn of events since then, while art made with encaustic has become ever more visible in galleries and museums, art fairs and art publications, “encaustic art” has gone in the other direction, coming to represent conceptually unsophisticated efforts with the medium.

By 2006, the antithetical divide between art in encaustic and “encaustic art” had become so great that I wrote an essay for my then-new blog. I called it I Am Not an “Encaustic Artist”. (It wasn’t a new idea for me—as a painter, no adjective, I intentionally did not use the phrase in my 2001 book—but after seeing the number of “encaustic art” shows and groups that had been proliferating since Waxing Poetic, I felt it was time to say something.) This is what I said:

“I love encaustic. I’ve been working with it for 16 years. I participate in, and go to see, “encaustic shows”—they’re a great way to see the wonderful variety of artistic expression in pigmented wax. (Though I make a point of participating in thematic shows as well.) And I admire and respect the work of many, many, many artists who work in encaustic. I just think we need to think hard about how we define ourselves and our work.”

The point was missed by at least one commenter, who assumed my intent was to distance myself from the medium. In retrospect I see that the commenter’s indignation was a harbinger of the defensiveness of wax-world identity politics that has continued to this day. The following question, posed recently by a well-respected member of our community has rekindled my interest in addressing the issue in a forum such as this:

“We all agree that calling ourselves “encaustic artists” is not helpful to our careers. And yet we have our Facebook page, our Conference, our medium-specific shows. I understand that educating the public about the medium is helpful, and raising the bar is a most worthy pursuit, but . . . while resisting calling ourselves “encaustic artists,” aren’t we doing exactly what we are denying?”

As the author of the book  that helped ignite the current interest in encaustic and founder of the first Conference devoted to the study of the medium, I have struggled with this question. I would say that we are not doing what we deny; in fact we are doing the opposite. My personal response has been to professionalize the standards for the Encaustic Conference, to broaden the scope of Conference offerings, and to exhort my professional colleagues to join with me in “raising the bar” in hopes that our collective example will inspire others. Last year I put those ideas into an essay, Encaustic: Art, Craft Hobby.  The essay was intended as a tool for discussion. The professionals rallied around it; the amateurs circled their wagons; the folks in the middle took sides. And yet, the issue remains, perhaps more pressing than ever.

I asked the ProWax group for their responses to the question posed above. Here’s some of the discussion, edited for brevity and organized for cohesiveness.

Howard Hersh: “This conversation is especially poignant to me because I have benefitted greatly from my association with the medium. In a crowded and competitive art world, standing out for any reason is a good thing. The problem, now that the world is flooded with artists using encaustic, is that the association with the medium connects us to a lower standard, the hobbyists’. I am all for raising the bar, but the question is: Can this mission be accomplished or are we inviting more (unwanted) attention to the medium?” 

Ruth Hiller: “I want to reiterate what Howard has said. I have found camaraderie, learned amazing things and benefitted as an artist through R&F and . . . the Conference. I have had many opportunities that I would not have had outside this arena. I have learned how to raise the bar.”

Jennie Frederick: “I only knew what I had seen . . . very bad, very thick and poorly conceived work done with encaustic paint. Then I saw Paula Roland’s work at William Siegel Gallery in Santa Fe. Talk about a different ballgame!”

Those three comments suggested several categories for consideration:

Our Venues/ Our Selves

There are many options for exhibition, but we’ve all learned, as Jennie’s introduction to Paula’s work makes clear, that the more professional the setting, the more professionally the work will be received. In no small part this is because the selection of works by a gallerist or bona fide curator helps separate the art from the “encaustic art.” Moreover, there are many ways we deal with exhibition options. Some voices:


. No more wax shows: “The issue of how I define myself and how I identify as an artist is central to my work, says Milisa Galazzi. “I have been a professional artist for 35 years . . . incorporating encaustic into my work since 2004. I am no longer applying to shows with “wax” in the title. That feels too limiting to me. I am thinking more about what I am calling my ‘crossover niche.’ I define this as where themes and materials interconnect with other ideas and forms in my work. For me this is gender, human connections, fiber, paper, wax. I am starting to see my career as a Venn Diagram and the sections that cross over are the places where I find the most opportunity and the most interest to me.”

. Context: “I call myself simply “an artist,” since my work is not defined by the material I choose,” says Maritza Ruiz-Kim. “I would never call myself an encaustic artist or a metal artist or a watercolor/gouache artist. I participate in communities that challenge my work and whose professional standards and/or aspirations are similar to my own. . . . I am interested in medium-specific shows to the extent that they provide the best context for my work, but I don’t think it serves my work or the medium to view work that is medium specific without some larger narrative or framework.”

. It’s just another medium, but . . . “As a painter for many years before being introduced to encaustic, I have always considered myself a visual artist,” says Cheryl McClure, whose “dominant medium” had long been acrylic on canvas.  “I still try to limit the mention of a medium when talking about my work unless asked specifically. I have also limited the ‘encaustic shows’ except for wanting to take part in those connected with the Conference.”  Why? It’s the association with the lower standard, says Cheryl. “Problems seem to arise when those who have not been artists start with encaustic and become ’encaustic artists.’”

Experience and Education

Elena De La Ville clarifies the problem that Cheryl has just noted: “One of the main differences that I see [between artists and “encaustic artists”] is that those of us who are established artists have studied. We have laid the foundation in our own practice and we are innovators. We have a long track record. We teach. A critical mass in encaustic is populated by amateurs who are drawn to the same medium we were drawn to but with hardly any training in concept or art principles.

“What I’d like to do,” continues Elena, “is set an example about good practice, about significant art, about concept and innovation. Being an artist is not a swift race to the top. It is a step-by-step process in which we learn from our mistakes as we find a way to communicate through our art. That is what raises the bar. I am sure some ‘encaustic artists’ will do that too, in time, but not everyone keeps at it long enough to make a meaningful contribution.”


I’d add that for self-defined “encaustic artists” looking to make a meaningful contribution, opportunities for involvement beyond “encaustic art” are available. Conference aside, there are a number of teaching professionals who offer entree to a higher level of thinking and achievement. They make their presence known on the various Facebook pages that attract those interested in encaustic. However the artists who reflexively slam the door on a way of engaging more broadly are likely to forever remain “encaustic artists”—more weight on a bar that is getting ever heavier to raise.

Raising the Bar

As we distance ourselves from the limiting identity of “encaustic artist”— it’s important we not deny encaustic itself. Nancy Natale offers perspective: “I really think my work would not have developed as it has without my using encaustic. It took me many years to arrive at a signature look and conceptual framework for my interests. I am still inventing new approaches to my work, and just about all of them involve encaustic.  The reason we are able to keep organizing shows, conferences and discussion around encaustic is that it offers a veritable infinity of ways to use it.”

I think of the comment by a visitor to the Swept Away exhibition at the Cape Cod Museum of Art this past June. Surveying the show during a panel discussion, he said, with aPullquote_visitorCapeCodMus_PWJ2 combination of awe and authority, “This is what encaustic can be.”  It was a high point in an exhibition with many high points.

Can we—as Jane Guthridge says, “use the power of a group to elevate the way encaustic is seen in the art world” –or will the collective weight of “encaustic art” connect us, as Howard fears, to “a lower standard.”

Jane Allen Nodine is realistic: “There will always be hobbyists using encaustic wax—and instructors promoting formulaic exercises for their workshops.”

Francesca Azzara is optimistic. “The medium is in an adolescent phase. These are growing pains. I believe the work of gifted artists working in encaustic will settle into the company of fine art done in any medium.”

Pullquote_Mattera_PWJ2I am ambivalent; call it pessimistically optimistic. I continue to pursue my personal, largely encaustic-based practice, and I’m directing the Conference into a more art-world-focused arena, supported by a visionary co-producer, an immensely talented ad hoc faculty, and hundreds of conferees over the past seven years who are invested in their professional practice or working toward professional goals. I have long said that one may arrive at the Conference an “encaustic artist” but leave an artist, with a broader sense of what is possible technically and conceptually.

But there’s no denying the huge organizational weight of mediocrity which supports, encourages and exhibits “encaustic art.” I don’t see that changing. (And I have no intention of trying to change it; if it serves its constituency, so be it.)

So to answer the original question, “Aren’t we doing exactly what we are denying?” I would say no, not at all. In ProWax we have gathered and identified as professionals who are working in encaustic. But to Howard’s question—which I’d paraphrase as, “Can we raise the bar without being pulled down by the weight of “encaustic art?”—sadly, I don’t think so.

But . . .

I don’t know why I it took me so long to realize this: Perhaps it’s time to disengage from the weight. Without it, there’s no limit to how high we can raise the bar! We are visual artists. Our efforts should be visible and they should be exemplary.

Each of us will determine how to be an exemplar in a way that is best for us personally, but I see many possibilities:

  • Present yourself in a larger arena. Say goodbye to the “encaustic shows,” or at least wean yourself on those with strong themes. And while you’re limiting, be choosy about the venues and organizers. These are ideas already expressed by Misa, Maritza and Cheryl in this essay
  • Speak about your work, limiting the tech talk in favor of the what and why. This raises your personal bar and, by extension the collective bar as well
  • Curate! Most of us won’t get the opportunity to curate in a museum setting, but there are plenty of opportunities in non-profits, libraries, historical societies, small commercial galleries, or pop ups. This is a chance to raise the bar for and with others
  • Write! Blogs, books and personal catalogs all help us stake out a broader space
  • Find a mentor; there’s always someone farther along the path than you
  • Be a mentor; you have much to offer someone who is not as far along
  • Collaborate on teaching or exhibition projects, as so many of us have been doing already
  • Organize, whether it’s a study group, a critique group, a retreat, a session to learn a skill like Photoshop or professional presentation. ProWax Journal is a fine example of raising the bar
  • Feel free to add to this list in the comment section, found to the left of the article title in most browsers

While we engage in a dialogue with encaustic in the studio, and in conversation with one another in ProWax and elsewhere, our larger interaction must remain in the art world with contemporary art.

“Encaustic art”, meanwhile, is free to find its own path, likely creating a place for itself alongside macramé owls, decoupage and painting on velvet.

Joanne Mattera is a widely exhibited painter who works in a style that is chromatically resonant and compositionally reductive. Chromatic Reasoning, her 29th career solo, will take place at Conrad Wilde Gallery, Tucson, in December. Joanne is responsible for two important firsts in the encaustic community: She is the author of The Art of Encaustic Painting (Watson Guptill, 2001) and founder of the now-Provincetown-based International Encaustic Conference, which she produces in conjunction with Truro Center for the Arts at Castle Hill and its director, Cherie Mittenthal. She made her first encaustic painting in 1969, but she is not now, nor has she ever been, an “encaustic artist.” Her coverage of the Miami art fairs can be found on her Joanne Mattera Art Blog in December.

ProWax Journal 2: Artists and Community

Artists & Community

By Milisa Galazzi

As a regular feature in the ProWax Journal, this month’s Artists & Community is a short conversation about Artist Residencies between artists Milisa Galazzi (MG) and Krista Svalbonas (KS).

MG: Can you tell me a little about the art residencies you have attended?

KS: I have attended Vermont Studio Center (VSC) and Cooper Union. At VSC I was one of 50 residents in a community that was comprised of both artists and writers. At Cooper Union I was only one of four other residents. Both were month-long residencies. Looking forward to many more, hopefully!

Svalbonas' studio at Vermont Studio Center

Svalbonas’ studio at Vermont Studio Center

MG: What was the most powerful/longest lasting aspect of your artist residency experience?

KS: VSC and Cooper Union were very different experiences and they both had wonderful lasting effects. At Vermont Studio Center the program really focused on exchange. We all lived together, ate together, worked and played together. I made some wonderful friendships and connections at that residency along with finishing a body of work. At Cooper, living space and food was not provided and we each carved out certain hours in our schedules for work so the residency was much more quiet and less about artist-to-artist interactions. From that residency, I was able to finish a body of work as well. The culminating group show gave me my first opportunity to work off the panel and onto the wall, which I have been doing ever since.

MG: With 20/20 hindsight and a magic paintbrush, if you could now change one thing about your artist residency experience, what would you now change?

KS: Thankfully there is nothing I’d change about either residency. They each gave me what I was looking for at the time and the much-needed fuel I wanted to grow as an artist.

MG: What advice do you have for someone who is thinking about attending, in the process of applying to, or is imminently beginning an artist residency?

KS: Do your research and know yourself. There are so many residency programs all over the world and each one is unique. Know what you want as an artist and understand who you are. Do you simply need time away from daily activity to do your work? Is a rural environment the right fit for you? An urban environment? Or perhaps a residency in the Arctic Circle? What is it that fuels you as an artist and what do you expect from a residency? Many programs offer professional development or exhibition opportunities; others simply offer solitude and space while others offer community. Not every residency fits every artist.

MG: What else would you like to say on the topic of artist communities?

KS: Do a residency! I can’t state enough how beneficial a program like this is, not only for forging connections with others but also for finding a deeper understanding of yourself and your work. A residency provides a unique space for self-discovery, free from your daily routine and void of any pressure you may feel in your life. It’s a wonderfully freeing environment.

Milisa Galazzi is best known for her large scale installations, works on paper, and conceptual paintings. Her work highlights human relationships punctuated by physical distance or separation by time and she is represented by ERNDEN Fine Art Gallery. Galazzi holds an MA with Honors from the Rhode Island School of Design were she extensively researched community-based art education settings. Her research is published by Harvard University Graduate School of Education, Project Zero Press, 1999. In addition, Galazzi holds a BA from Brown University where she studied Studio Art with minors in Women’s Studies and Cultural Anthropology – all of which directly informs the content of her art making. Galazzi works full time in her studio in Providence, Rhode Island, and on Cape Cod in the summer months.

Online artist residency information:

1. The Alliance for Artist Communities: Residency Directory

2. Two Coats of Paint: “Artists’ Residencies- Upcoming deadlines” by Sharon Butler (Sep 2013)  

3. Hyperallergic: Surveying Arts Residencies Today (3 Part Series) by An Xiao (Apr 2012)

“Part 1: Surveying Arts Residencies- Do They Still Matter?”

Part 2: Surveying Arts Residencies- How Residencies Can Help

Part 3: Surveying Arts Residencies- How to Make it Happen

4. Blouin Art Info: “A Guide to 20 Top Artist Residencies and Retreats Across the United States” by Alanna Martinez, Chloe Wyma (Mar 2012)

5. Blouin Art Info: “A Guide to 20 Adventurous, Offbeat, Or Otherwise Outrageous Artist Residencies” by Alanna Martinez, Chloe Wyma (Mar 2012)

Galazzi is an artist living and working in Providence and on Cape Cod in the summer. Her graduate degree is from Rhode Island School of Design where she especially focused on her lifelong interest – art and community. Her website is and she is represented by ERNDEN Fine Art Gallery in Provincetown, Mass.

ProWax Journal 2: Featured Artworks

The Materiality of the Work

Elise Wagner:

Enter Payne’s Grey. I navigate my pieces somewhat blindly in both tone and intention. I approach them gesturally, as if I am making a collagraph, relying mainly on the alchemy in the materials themselves to begin forming a dialogue. The territory I lay down emerges slowly and randomly. When the color enters the picture, it adds something opposite and reveals everything that was invisible to me before. It is truly magical every time.

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Wayne Montecalvo:

Artwork can dictate materials, but sometimes materials inform the artwork. What interests me is the give and take that results from engaging with materials and how the materials respond. Since my work involves people, I think of the the subjects, or models, as an important material component of my work. They are real people who bring a particular story or energy to my pieces. I seek them out the same way other artists look for ‘found objects’ to include in their work. A smaller piece can be more intimate than a larger piece, especially when based on a real person, so scale can help determine material choices as well. My work uses color separation process, combining printed layers. The order of the color layering is important to the output, and that process also depends on material. Variation is inherent in the methods I choose no matter how planned out the process.

Montecalvo_Essential Qs_Materiality_Imageonly

Tracey Adams:

This week I finished six small collages, grabbing time away from other projects in order to partake in the pleasure derived from collage work. I never intend to sell these. Like keeping a journal, these are for me. They represent sheer play and experimentation with materials as well as time when there’s nothing at stake in terms of cost. Everything that goes into the making of the collages comes from piles of discarded materials that sit in boxes in my studio: drypoint and softground etchings, encaustic monotypes and handmade papers made long ago. Many of these materials date from as far back as 15 years, yet I still get excited every time I sift through the boxes and start putting these disparate fragments together. I guess what I love most is that I never know where I’m going or what a collage will look like until it’s finished.

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Christine Shannon Aaron:

As I become increasingly aware of what it is I want to convey and express in my work, the materials I choose go hand in hand with that intent. My recent bodies of work address the passage of time, weathering of emotion and memory, and how the experience of memory also shifts as time passes. With mirrors, the image shifts and changes as viewer changes position; metal ages and oxidizes into part of the finished piece; encaustic allows layers, excavation and obscuring of parts. I have found that by linking material and imagery to the ideas and intentions behind my work, my work is strengthened.

Aaron_Essential Qs_Imageonly_a

Bonny Leibowitz:

About a year and a half ago I began collecting materials I found seductive, inviting, repulsive, humorous and surprising without expectation, without a plan, only a sheer love for form and surface. I began to see the connections in the collected items. Initially, I started a piece with a plaster form but I saw the need to destroy the form in part, allowing the wire structure within to be exposed. The forms began to take on human qualities and personas. I then supported the rough, worn, exposed natural elements with other organic materials such as torn cheesecloth, mulberry bark, branches and rawhide. Archetypal inferences began to appear for me: “The Diva,” “The Temptress” and “Love Muffin…,” to name a few. Out came the foam, faux fur, sheep fur, bed springs, rubber and vinyl in a balancing act of seriousness and play, comfort and tension, safety and fear. I now trust the materials will spark intention and the intentions will be beautifully dictated by materiality.

Leibowitz_Essential Q_PWJ2_imageonly_a

Kenise Barnes will be the keynote speaker at the 8th International Encaustic Conference. In her keynote talk, Barnes will address materiality from a gallerist’s perspective. She represents artists working in a range of mediums and has curated exhibitions in which material and method have a strong presence–whether in fiber, metal, wood or wax.

ProWax Journal 2: Essential Questions

Essential Questions for ProWax Artists: Critique

“Being critical of art is a way of showing art respect.” – Jerry Saltz, art critic for New York Magazine, in 15 Wise Quotes Every Artist Should Take to Heart

“I didn’t have a mentor. I learned more from my tormentors.”Pamela Blum, NY artist, at the 6th International Encaustic Conference Saturday morning panel

With these concepts in mind, I initiated a discussion about the critique process with fellow ProWax artists. An excerpt of that conversation is here. -Maritza Ruiz-Kim, Editor-in-Chief

Q: How do you solicit & respond to feedback about your work?

Maritza Ruiz-Kim: Let me start off with a story about my first very negative critique. In art school, a fellow student who was a year or two ahead of me took issue with my work habits, the piece I put before the class, and even my personality. There was no “it’s not personal” there; she hated my work, her perception that I was careless and sloppy, and she took me and my work down piece by piece. Honestly, it was infuriating. I didn’t have the words or presence of mind to respond with any substance. I went home, cried, called friends, vented. Even so, I learned several things. And my work was better for it.

Lessons learned:

  • Breathe
  • Be aware that even feedback from a tormentor can be valuable (thanks for putting it so succinctly, Pamela Blum)
  • Negative feedback from a trusted friend can also be difficult to listen to; be strong
  • Listen for what’s applicable: while my “tormentor” was wrong about the time I had invested in that particular piece, I had been sloppy with previous work in the class (she assumed I had ignored her earlier feedback)– I decided to own that much
  • Go to my friends with my whining, don’t whine in critique
  • Don’t let the difficulty of receiving negative feedback keep me from finding the nugget I need to further my practice
  • Get good at identifying the feedback that gets in the way of my intentions
  • It’s best to disprove peoples’ personal attacks by being persistent in my work

Joanne Mattera: There are different kinds of crits. For instance, if I’m leading a group crit, I’m looking at participants’ work and thinking how they might connect dots–to an artist who shares their sensibility (and might that be the germ of a curatorial effort), to a book or exhibition they might find interesting, to a gallery that shows the kind of work that relates to what they do. It’s about helping them talk about their work and then get it out into the world in a broader way, and asking the kinds of questions that will get them to think about those issues.

On the other hand, I would expect a one-on-one crit–between mentor and mentee, or between two artists of equal experience, or between artist and dealer or curator, to delve more deeply into the work with conceptual and compositional issues–even material issues– with what if, why, would you, can you, should you, and so forth. I’ve had trusted colleagues say everything to me from, “You’ve barely scratched the surface. Get in there!” to “It’s perfect. Don’t touch it” to the kinds of excruciatingly difficult questions that pierce the heart but push you forward: Why are you still working on the series? I think it’s too pretty. Does it have to be square? Does this have to be done in encaustic? What would happen if you made it bigger/smaller/turned it sideways? And of course there’s the long pause and then the curt, “It just doesn’t do anything for me.”

The responsibility of the recipient is to think about all of it, then take what’s useful and disregard the rest.

Cheryl McClure: Joanne’s summary of a crit is really good. It covers a lot of ground. I haven’t been to art school so I have never come upon a crit like the one you went through, Maritza, although I have heard of them.

I consider crits to be very useful……BUT, the big BUT: it can be devastating to the recipient if not handled by a sensitive, caring person. Many will have their own views of this but my first thought is always to find out what the artist intended with the work, and then to consider whether the work succeeds.

Jane Guthridge: I don’t have a regular critique group. When looking for input I go to a number of artists who I respect and share my same sensibilities. Most of these people live in other places so I send them images and discuss either online – or better with a phone call. I am fortunate that the owner of the gallery that represents my work in Denver is also an artist. We share the same sensibilities, he has a great eye, and I respect his opinion. I often bring new work to him to get his input. He helps me by not only discussing the content, but with ideas for technical challenges involved in creating the work or displaying it.

Maritza Ruiz-Kim: I like that too Cheryl: asking about the artist’s intention in the work, and knowing what kind of feedback the artist wants. Does the artist really want to know what I think? It’s not a question I can always ask outright, but I try to get a sense about that. If there is trust in the working relationship, I feel more comfortable speaking honestly. I lead with what is working for me and I ask questions: “What is it you had in mind with this part?”, “I’m not sure that ___ is consistent with what you’re telling me,” etc. When we have a good back and forth and understanding of each other’s work, I find the depth to the inquiry into someone’s work to be really exciting.

While I try to be very sensitive in giving feedback, I try to be tough in receiving feedback. I try to learn from it and see what it is about my work that I might want to address- or if instead I’m fine with my work falling flat with a particular individual. (Who can match that one person who made me cry in art school? I’ve never had any feedback that has come close to that experience.) There are many ways to make work, and not everyone will like my work.

Cheryl McClure: I have only taught one workshop. It was for a week in Dallas a few years ago. I was really worried about the critique, because there are all levels of work in a workshop, but they often demand a critique at the end. I was really happy that there was a lecture at [the 7th International Encaustic Conference in] Provincetown that year with Toby Sisson. I will have to go look up my notes but they are in the studio somewhere. (Notes from the Encaustic Conference are linked below.)

Maritza Ruiz-Kim: Yeah that would be hard for me too, Cheryl!

Joanne Mattera: Everything depends on the level of the artists. For students, I always ask, “What is your intent here?” That allows us entry to the work by how well the artist has been able to achieve what s/he is after, and how well the students viewing the work respond to the artist’s intent. This has been a good way to work with less experienced artists as well. But with my peers, usually I have a sense of their oeuvre, and they mine, so the conversation can focus on other issues–how the work relates to previous work, what’s new in the work, what’s troubling or intriguing about it, the space it occupies now and where it appears to be headed.

Jane Guthridge: I like your question “What is your intent here?”, Joanne, because I think it helps to lead to a discussion rather than a judgment.

Jennie Frederick: I graduated from art school, and for over 25 years I’ve had experience teaching: art school, community college, 40 schools in Kansas City, private workshops… . I LOVE critiques, especially group critiques. I often had 75 students per semester. I usually opened with a reminder of their background, their influences, their goals, struggles, successes, etc. The information garnered from this always led into a wonderful dialogue about the work. There are always formal issues, conceptual issues, technical issues, and even presentation issues. I remember grueling critiques during my tenure at art school. But I always find ways now to suggest historical exemplars and contemporary relevancies. There are ways to nudge students toward personal growth without stifling them.

As a resource for questions around teaching content within an encaustic workshop or classroom, please see Toward Standards & Practices in Teaching Encaustic.  From the introduction: “The Teachingsession Toward Standards and Practices in Teaching Encaustic was held at the 7th International Encaustic Conference in Provincetown, Massachusetts on June 2, 2013. Dozens of conferees participated in the session’s three dialogue groups, sharing their thoughts on SAFETY, MATERIALS & TECHNIQUES and CONTENT. Over a 45-minute period, the group facilitators – Sara Mast, Cherie Mittenthal and Toby Sisson – guided the exchange of ideas while note takers recorded the comments posed by the participants.”