Remembering Ronald Sherr

I can honestly say I’ve never known anyone—artist or otherwise—more admired and respected than Ron Sherr.

His passing sparked an outpouring of heartfelt tributes across social media, as former students shared touching memories, each reflecting the deep bond they felt with him.

Which came as no surprise. Because Ron had a way of speaking to you as if you were the only person in the world who mattered.

And during his in-studio critiques, you were.

Our class was packed—nearly 40 painters, spanning three generations, crammed into a modest-sized room. Yet somehow, he reached each of us, one by one.

When it was your turn, you had Ron’s full attention.

He was completely present, locked eyes with you, and gave you exactly the guidance you needed. Then he moved on to the next student. But the inspiration lingered.

There was no need to take notes—his insights were too powerful to forget. They’ve stayed with me for 40 years and still come to mind every time I step into the studio.

A few standouts:

– Always try to do the impossible.
– There’s no such thing as too much drawing.
– Look at a masterwork and imagine you’re the one painting it.
– Establish a focal point early. Then add a secondary focal point to compete with the first.
– Observe your subject as if your life depended on it.
– Only exhibit your very best work.
– Every inch of your painting should be interesting.
– Every struggle you encounter is a painting struggle.

That last one was a game-changer, especially for younger artists.

Money problems? A painting struggle.
Relationship troubles? Painting struggle.
And so on.

What also set Ron apart was his humility.

His extraordinary talent never made him self-important. Class was never about him or his work; it was always about his students. He spoke openly about his struggles as a young painter and encouraged us to tough it out in a big, unforgiving city.

Above all, he made you feel safe.

While friends, family, and even strangers warned of the futility of pursuing art as a career, Ron made it feel like the most practical choice in the world.

And entirely possible—if you wanted it enough.