Saturday, October 3, 2026

How the Eyes of a Mentor Can Change Your Life

What takes an artist from a simple pencil sketch to a successful exhibition?


Years ago, a man in his early forties came into my studio and timidly showed me a sketchpad filled with simple pencil drawings—mostly inspired by children. Technically, the pages were unpolished. But underneath the raw marks, there was an energy and sensitivity that you simply cannot fake.

He told me he wanted to improve his skills and give direction to this passion he carried every day.

For two years, he came to my studio to master the oil painting process. We didn't dive into figures right away; to build a solid foundation in color and technique, we began with still life and landscapes.

Then one day, I noticed a couple of canvases tucked in the corner of the room. They were rough sketches of two young children—a boy and a girl. The paintings were barely underway, just monochromatic underpaintings in earthy tones with crude shapes. Yet as I looked at them, something struck me. The gaze of those children was deeply intense—more expressive, even in that unfinished state, than many fully completed works.

I urged him to push forward and devote himself to that subject. I even gave him the keys to my studio so he could paint after hours.

Within a month, he produced nearly twenty paintings. They all had a raw, unrefined quality, but the expressions on those faces radiated a powerful emotion.

I didn't hesitate: “It’s time for your first exhibition. You still have a lot to learn, but everything that makes you a true artist is already right here on these canvases.”

He couldn't believe it, but I insisted. My studio was well-equipped and had already hosted shows for other students. He finally agreed, and I helped him price his work at rates he would have never dared to ask on his own.

The exhibition was a resounding success: he sold several pieces and picked up new commissions. I knew right then that this was the turning point—the moment he decided to embrace painting not just as a hobby, but as his life's path.

Soon after, he left his business and opened his own studio. Now, ten years after walking through my doors, he has graduated from the Brera Academy of Fine Arts and creates extraordinary abstract art.

Every time we catch up, he reminds me: “The very first day I set foot in your studio, I told myself: this is what I want to do with my life.”

So why did those children carry such profound expressions? They were his own children, who had moved abroad with their mother two years earlier. Love doesn't require flawless technique to shine through—it just needs eyes and a heart capable of recognizing it.

That was the moment I realized what it truly means to be a mentor: to spot raw talent early on, nurture its growth, recognize the exact right moment to help an artist step into the spotlight, and teach them the real value of their work.

If you paint and feel the need to believe in your potential—to discover what it truly takes to elevate your art—reach out. I offer a private coaching program designed to turn that artistic vision into a concrete reality.

This isn't for everyone; I devote only one day a week to this practice, keeping spots strictly limited.

Click here to send an email to discuss taking the next step together.

Francesco

Sunday, June 7, 2026

The Chess Players: A Slow, Daily Ritual

Silence and Reflection as a Shared Act of Resistance  ⁓

The Chess Players, painting by Francesco Fontana

Inspiration, in the moment, remains a mystery: it strikes invisible chords.

These two young men grabbed a beer and set out a small chessboard. The gesture caught me off guard—not a smartphone in sight, nor a cigarette, but a game that demands focus, quietude, and a deliberate contemplation of every move.

Searching for solutions to seemingly 'useless' problems is precisely the process of the artist: a purely creative act.

They have no need for words, no obligation to make conversation. Yet, this shared reflection unites them. In a way, there is a deep solidarity between adversaries, an unspoken pact. That is the true quality of the game: being fictional enemies serves to build a genuine friendship.

This happened in Berlin, but could it have taken place elsewhere?

Yes, perhaps, though I have rarely witnessed this in Italy. In Germany, however, it seems deeply rooted in the culture—I recall seeing countless chess players in the parks of Leipzig. In Málaga, too, public chessboards along the main promenade are constantly alive with players. I am fascinated by the idea of chess as a daily, simple, and spontaneous ritual.

I am not a chess player myself, but I was drawn to this scene because it elevates the value of thought and silence—not as isolation, but on the contrary, as a moment of quiet connection.

A slow time carved out against the noise and speed of the world.

The Chess Players - Watercolor on cotton paper, 55x75 cm

The Chess Players, painting by Francesco Fontana

Inquiry about The Chess Players: info@francescofontana.com 
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Monday, April 27, 2026

My Special Time for Fabriano in Acquerello

I enjoyed my demo in Bologna, Italy for the international watercolor festival ⁓








The challenge I set myself? Starting from a life sketch done in a park, in pencil and monochrome. It's one of the things I teach in my studio classes, on Zoom, and in my workshops. Thanks for joining me! I'll see you at my next sessions! Check my Next Events

Sunday, April 12, 2026

Spring moves me, so I draw!

How a return to the basics regenerates the spirit ⁓

Spring truly moves me. On a bright, sunny day, the light radiates pure happiness. Maybe it’s the serotonin boost from those first rays, or the flowers and scents that trigger memories of youth—even childhood. Whatever it is, my first instinct is to get outside. But not before tossing a couple of sheets of paper, brushes, and colors into my backpack.

Yesterday, I took a long walk with no destination in mind and ended up in a small, slightly hidden, and overgrown park behind my house. I sat on a bench and started to draw.

Francesco Fontana, Pencil Drawing Outdoor, 2026
Francesco Fontana, Pencil Drawing Outdoor, 2026

After seeing Gianni Provenzano’s beautiful work at the Galleria Caravello in Palermo—those beat-up cars and everyday objects I love so much—I felt a sudden, crazy urge for pure drawing: just a pencil and a kneaded eraser!

And so, my informal plein air session on a park bench turned into over an hour of total bliss. A return to the basics that truly regenerates the spirit.

Do you love to draw, or do you feel the need to improve your line work (especially if you paint in watercolor)? Let me know in the comments, maybe I can help you loosen up your hand.

Actually, scratch that... I mean loosen up your eye. Remember: you don’t draw with your hands, you draw with your eyes!


Francesco Fontana, Pencil Drawing En Plein Air, 2026

Friday, July 4, 2025

Painting Together: A Path to Self-Discovery

Why Artistic sharing enlightens the journey ⁓

Since early this year, I've been able to use the spacious studios at the academy where I teach as a workspace for my larger paintings

Young artists who are refreshing the tradition of Renaissance painting with contemporary themes, work in this studio. It's incredibly beneficial because there's a constant exchange of feedback and a very fertile intergenerational dialogue. Many ask me for advice based on my experience, but the most valuable thing is the unexpected comments I receive on my works in progress.

The Chess Players - Watercolor by Francesco Fontana (55 x75 cm), 2025
The Chess Players - Watercolor by Francesco Fontana (55 x75 cm), (c) 2025

I imagined a totally different artist 

A new student saw me working on an oil painting (I've resumed this medium along with watercolor) and, looking a me in action on the piece, commented with surprise: "When I saw the painting on the easel (you  weren't around), I imagined a totally different artist. Younger, reckless, and defiant. Not the calm and thoughtful man I see now".

Her words confused me; they shook my assumption of knowing who I am. Perhaps there's a difference between the image we project and the complexity of our inner world. My instinctive response was,

"Perhaps that wilder young man lives inside me!"

It's possible that an artist is a vessel for multiple souls, of different ages and moods, which emerge in unexpected ways in their work, even unconsciously. Creating my art among other artists, or aspiring artists, is enlightening for the journey I'm on to. I remember the singer Mika saying, "Today we are all isolated; everyone creates in solitude, and artistic sharing is very rare."

I truly recommend that, whenever possible, everyone works in a collective or even public space. It might require patience and a bit of nerve, but it pushes your art to a higher level.

Happy Art Life! ⁓ Francesco
PS. Had any experience of collective workspace? Share it in the comment below or via 
email

Wednesday, June 25, 2025

Being an Artist in a Controversial World

Resilience and Authenticity in a Changing Planet ⁓

As I've already written, I find it difficult to activate my creative side these days. Painting, writing, teaching... in short, thinking positive!

Should the Show Must Go On?

I admire those who pretend it's "business as usual." They put on their brightest smiles, express their enthusiasm, sing and dance, have a party. "The show must go on!" While the world is burning around us. This is understandable; it helps keep morale high, makes us feel part of the solution and not part of the problem.

Middle Eastern Eyes - Watercolor by Francesco Fontana (c) 2025
Middle Eastern Eyes - Watercolor by Francesco Fontana (c) 2025

Today's Meaning is Hidden in the Past

To rediscover meaning and motivation today, I reread old blog posts or review old paintings. As Jerry Saltz says in How to Be an Artist, "In your old suitcase is the truth of who you are." Looking to the past helps me recognize what recurs over time: signs, color, themes, sensitivity. This allows me to get rid of what no longer represents me and helps me be true to myself. By developing this and moving forward, I hope to leave a tiny trace of truth in the world.

Being Proud of Myself

I don't intend to leave this planet too soon, and I plan to create works that I'll be even prouder of. Works that bear witness to my presence in this fantastic and painful, bloody and ecstatic era all at once. And I leave you with a question: shoud I (we) be more radical in our artistic research!

As always, write to me with your thoughts and feelings.

Happy Art Life, Francesco

P.S. More about my artistic statement in this my blog post: 

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