All content herein copyright © scott hagel 2008.

The following is from my MFA Thesis 2005

Sometimes I wonder “did I choose to be an artist?”
Was there ever a choice?
I’ve worked a lot of jobs but I can’t imagine spending a lifetime doing anything else . . .

First, I would like to discuss my inspiration.
I enjoy many contemporary painters but I cannot honestly say that I’m influenced by their work. I find myself drawn to contemporary photographers that blur the lines between art, fashion, and fetish. No particular photographers, just a general style.

And my history?
I come from a family of artists. My mom’s side of the family is filled with talent.
My grandmother was a painter and my mom’s sisters are painters - still lifes and landscapes mostly.
My mom did some artwork early in her life, drawing numerous female nudes.
Nudity was never considered a “bad” thing during my childhood.
I saw the drawings that she had done and at an early age was introduced to the work of great pin-up artists such as Vargas, Petty, Elvgren and more.
My mom saw this work as very well done. Yes it was suggestive, cheesecake, etc., sure it was all of those things, but well done.
This, I’m certain, had a major influence on my own aesthetic tastes.

As a teenager, I discovered magazines such as Heavy Metal and Epic.
Artists such as Frank Frazetta held great appeal for me. He captured both the sexuality and strength of the women in his paintings. At once these women could be both very beautiful and strong warriors, hunters, etc.

During my B.F.A. at Eastern Washington University, an interesting series of events unfolded and drastically changed the direction of my work. I had taken a few figure drawing classes and really enjoyed them. Of course, every time you had some sort of groove going, the class period was over. Or for that matter, the quarter had come to an end. I was also tiring of what seemed to be the same poses over and over again. I wanted to add a little something more to my drawings.

I was quite fortunate one day to have a fellow art student approach me and offer to model in exchange for one of my paintings. She had never modeled nude and I had never worked with my own model. In no small way, she changed my life.
We set a date. I decided to go with a photo shoot rather than have her sit for a single piece because I had a variety of ideas I wanted to explore.

As the photo shoot drew near, I became a little bit nervous (ok, a lot really). I was going to be working one-on-one with a naked woman! We would meet in the halls at Eastern and laugh about it until the day was almost upon us. One of us, I can’t remember exactly who, suggested she bring a friend for moral support. Whew! That took the pressure off both of us.  

Finally the day arrived.
I cleared out the living room of my apartment, rounded up some cheap incandescent lamps for lighting, and lined some wrenches across the heater so they wouldn’t be cold. The model and her friend were at the door. Lots of nervous laughter all around. We experimented with various ideas, mostly the juxtaposition of metal and flesh. At one point the model was on her back and I lined the wrenches across her thighs. The shadows created were very intriguing and the painting I made from that shot became one of my first major paintings.

That piece, Torso with Wrenches, also set in motion a storm of criticism aimed at me with the idea that I was a misogynist, objectifying women, and was using women as tools. This was a very new experience for me, and difficult to digest. I certainly didn’t feel as “evil” as many people seemed to suggest.

One weekend afternoon, the building was practically deserted, and I was in the studio painting. A man I didn’t know walked in. I said hello and welcomed him to look around. He paused for a
moment, said nothing and looked away. Moments later he handed me a card and walked out the door. Puzzled, I examined the card and in bright rainbow colors were written the words “Jesus Loves You.”

Not that my critics’ opinions weren’t valid, we just had very different ways of looking at my paintings, and for that matter, the world.
As for the rest of that shoot, I can barely remember. I was nervous. Everything was a blur. But the experience did create a pattern I follow to this day. A few things have changed. That very first model was the only one to have a friend along for moral support. Also, I’ve traded in my SLR and a couple rolls of film for a nice digital with practically unlimited shots.  

Ultimately this experience has led to a passion for working with the female figure in my paintings. There seem to be so many possibilities. And the things people read into these paintings is just as fascinating to me as my own thoughts in working with the models and subject matter.

I began my time at EWU painting landscapes, fantasy images, and more . . . Once I’d started painting these new images, other women began to volunteer to model for me. This new direction, this new body of work, began to take on a life of its own.


My work continues to grow both in quality and in the exploration of ideas, gradually maybe, but definitely none-the-less. I am exploring my own sexuality through these paintings: my fantasies, desires, limits, taboos, and more.

There is a process here that has unfolded and become important in the completion of a painting. It began with that very first model. Being an artist as well, she shared her ideas as to how things could be, what poses to try, etc. In many ways, the photo shoot becomes a collaborative effort, a sort of dialogue between me and the model.

The experience of the photo shoot is an unusual thing. It is filled with unique and artistic ideas with an underlying hint of voyeurism. The process works by maintaining a professional and respectful attitude toward the model and the situation. The model holds herself motionless for a moment, I move around her with my camera looking for that special angle to emphasize some sensual or sexual aspect of the pose. I try not to stare but that is exactly what I must do.

Shots taken.

Into the studio.

I now have multiple images from the photo shoots to choose from. I can’t really say how I choose which photos to turn into paintings. I go through them and consider everything; lighting, pose, composition, visual appeal, and more. I use the photos to help layout the figure, their surroundings, shadows, and such, the basic form. I try to capture something special about that image, that experience during the shoot, that particular model . . .

Once I have begun the painting, the photo reference is placed out of sight unless needed for some crucial detail. That is when I really play with colors, lighting, textures, and more. The reference photo has played its part and now the painting begins to take on a life of its own. My primary focus is often color and the creation of a particular mood. I am drawn to images that are introspective, melancholy, etc.

A difficulty in my work may be that I rarely have a clear idea of what the end result of a painting might be. That is where the dialogue with the painting begins. As I lay down colors and textures, etc., the painting will suggest what needs to happen next. One thing will lead to another until at some point I have what I feel is a finished piece.
The latest painting is complete.

Watch out for desert crocs! They are scary.

(My wife.  
Fan?  Hope so...)

Yep, she’s a fan.