American Painter Susan Dwyer Leach
MY NAME IS SUSAN DWYER LEACH, AND I AM AN EARLY AND MID-CENTURY AMERICAN PAINTER.
Even as a little girl, I was certain of three things: I loved painting, I loved American history, and I wanted to be a mother and 1950s housewife. As proof of my long and consistent passion for art, I have a framed drawing that I made when I was five years old hanging on the wall of my home studio. In the drawing, a stick-figure representation of myself displays what I thought was a black cat at the time, but now it looks more like a rat. At the top of the piece are big, block-crayon letters that read: When I grow up I want to be an artist.
As a child growing up between Connecticut and Rhode Island, I always felt a strong urge to draw the beauty around me. I often woke up in the middle of the night with an idea for my next painting. Despite—or perhaps as a result of—being a rather talented child, I would grow immensely frustrated when my imitations were not perfect. I spent hours admiring the lights and shadows of Wayne Thiebaud and Edward Hopper’s paintings when my parents brought me to art museums. I wanted to be able to convey the same coolness; the same delight; the same warmth of the sun that they did. All I asked for on my birthday and at Christmas were art supplies. I would take these supplies to the beaches of Block Island to search for inspiration, where seasonal tourists started paying me to sketch portraits of their sunburnt children. This was my first exposure to the potential of turning my art into a business—the first time I realized I could do this for money.
However, my love for early American history started in my very own home. My family has old ancestral roots in New England, and we lived in a cool, mid-century house with a turquoise kitchen and pink bathrooms. It was filled with antique heirlooms like butter churns and candle molds that had been built by distant relatives. A hugely inspirational moment in my childhood was the bicentennial of the American Revolution in 1976; I was mesmerized by the drummer boys and American flags waving all around me. For weeks after, I obsessively drew soldiers, George Washington, and Betsy Ross—and the rest is history. Both of my grandmothers were part of Daughters of the American Revolution, and I became a member in 1989. I fell in love with early American art because it is my history, too.
I was lucky enough to be constantly surrounded by kind and supportive people. My mother recognized that my love for art was more than just a hobby, and she quickly enrolled me in private lessons where I learned how to use watercolors. When I was eighteen, I had my first gallery show. During my high school summers, I took art classes at the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD). I then attended Hartford Art School where I graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in painting—and where I immersed myself in every American history book within reach.
I was just as determined to achieve my goal of being a mother. I had three wonderful children by the time I was twenty-five years old, along with a life that took me from RI to Texas and from Hong Kong to Vermont. Life, however, takes strange twists and turns, and the most difficult part of being a single mother was spending less time with a paintbrush in my hand. With this came the accompanying realization that a degree in painting—which I barely had time to actualize, anyway—could not put my children through college. I started giving art lessons, became involved with art galleries, and participated in art shows. Though a day or night never passed without painting, I realized I needed more support; I needed a job with a stable income, and that, unfortunately, could never be painting. So, I moved back to RI to be closer to my family, and I went back to school to receive an associate’s degree in nursing.
I still work as a nurse, but over time I have built a strong reputation for my artistic career. I have traveled all over the country—not only for art shows, but also to paint rolling hills and historical figures on the walls of antique houses. I am married to my high school sweetheart, a skilled woodworker who builds tavern signs and fire boards, which I paint. Together, we create Early American custom and collaborative works of art for our customers. I have completed quite a few portraits, but I also try to preserve and value humor in all of my work, from professional commissions to wackier depictions.
Though I have mostly worked with fabulously kind people—and a lot of seniors with whom I share a kindred spirit—some artists do not appreciate my paintings because they think they are not serious enough or not sufficiently politically-driven. The truth is, I do love my George Washingtons, Santa Clauses, and cakes.
I want to contribute whimsical, delightful, and heartwarming feelings to a world that is already burdened with enough sadness and hardships. I want to fill spaces with beautiful images; I want to create something that makes you smile when you look at it. It is not a choice for me, it is who I am.
I hope you find delight,
Susan Leach