What it’s like to paint at the Met or how I’m overcoming imposter syndrome
Every Tuesday I paint inside the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I am a participant in the Met Copyist program, the longest running program at the Met. Every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday there are artists painting in various galleries throughout the Met. Copying a master painting is a tried and true way to learn. Anyone can draw with pencil inside the Met, but only through the Copyist program can you paint or use wet media.
I signed up for the program on a whim in an effort to jump start my return to the studio and my return to oil painting. I started oil painting for a brief period in 2019, through a class at the New York Academy of Art, (Portrait Painting my Manu Saluja—which I highly recommend), then stopped painting when I was trying to conceive. My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage and it freaked me out. I have since had four pregnancies and two healthy babies, and learned more about how to paint safely with oil or acrylic. I don’t think the painting had anything to do with the miscarriage, but unfortunately there is not really any research to ever know. To be extra safe with small kids, I am not using solvents and avoiding cadmiums, cobalts, and other dangerous pigments in all mediums. Most people think it’s the oil paint itself that is dangerous, but actually it is the pigments and the mediums in all art materials, not just oil paints, that you should be concerned about.
I have always wanted to paint but have been too scared to do so until recently. I didn’t think I would ever be good enough. I did not go to art school and I just thought that some people were born good at drawing and painting and some people weren’t. This is not true. I think anyone can learn to draw or paint with instruction. I think color, composition, and content are things that help make something art, and not everyone is good at those things and perhaps never will be. I’ve realized over the past decade that I am definitely an artist, I am good at color, composition, and content, and the only way to learn to paint and draw is to learn and practice.
And then there is imposter syndrome. The feeling like you are not and never will be good enough so you shouldn’t even try. I have felt this way about painting and drawing for a long time. I am on a journey to depict what I want how I want to, but I am no longer ok with waiting until I’m good enough to try. Painting inside the Met has helped me feel less like an imposter. They don’t just let anyone paint! I must have some talent, skill, passion, and drive.
The first part of the Copyist program is an orientation in the basement of the Met. We all sat in a room and watched a presentation about the program and the goals. We were told it is about the process of learning, not the final outcome. I also read this paper “Reframing the Master Copy” by Abigail Lenhard in which she interviews Met copyists. Reading about other artists' experiences gave me confidence to try it. I am doing the program via New York Academy of Art’s class, but you can also apply directly via the Met to be a Met Copyist or take a class through the Arts Students League.
Each week, often after a night of breastfeeding and doing toddler school drop off, I get my stuff at my studio, take the subway, grab a sandwich, stealthily eat with the nannies and their charges in the basement, cry a little while I walk down the hallway of strollers (because I always miss my kids while even though I need time alone), then check-in at the Met Copyist office. The staff is amazing and I look forward to seeing them every week. I then grab my canvas and roll my stuff over to my gallery. I am there for about four hours. The Met Copyist staff comes around to give us a bathroom break, but otherwise we have to stay with our easel and painting. I was most stressed about this aspect because my postpartum body has to eat, drink water, and go to the bathroom much more often than usual and when I signed up for the program I didn’t know there was staff to give you a break. There is also a lactation room at the Met, but I have instead stopped doing my day feed because otherwise I would have a very complicated day.
Our instructor also comes around to help, but mainly it’s just me and the painting. I have learned a lot about color and looking. I am still more or less struggling in the studio with my own personal project, but every Tuesday I get to feel like I am a real painter. The best part of the program is that when the Met Copyist staff and volunteers come around they give you a little pep talk of encouragement and advice if you want it. It’s like the one time in my week when I feel like I’m being seen as an artist and not a mom or a parent or a milk cafe or the receptacle for bodily fluids or the witness of tantrums or the person who made food that will be rejected or thrown on the floor or the one panic researching something you may or may not need for the children and then realizing you have no clean pants that fit. To someone walking by, often a tourist taking selfies or photos of me, I’m just an artist painting at the Met. And that feels nice.
Below are some photos of my process so far. I have two sessions left. Photo of me painting is by artist and Met staff Shar Galarza.
