Member Blog Post: Gail Winbury
I am fortunate to have had an active and curious father who rode a bike, learned digital photography, attended concerts, and read FDA research into his 80s. Like my father, I have always been a bit of a rebel. That has served me well throughout my life. I hope to continue to learn and grow until, well, I die.
My interest in growth and development lead me to become a practicing psychologist. I began graduate school at 25 and received my doctorate in psychology at 31. By 33, I was a Psychologist at Rutgers University, designing eating disorder programs, consulting with University departments, and teaching and treating students in psychotherapy. At 38, while six months pregnant, I presented a paper to 200 colleagues, gave birth, and opened a private practice. For years I treated women with eating disorders, coached executives, and gave therapy to the worried well. I still do but on a smaller scale.
In my mid-40s to late 40s, I felt discontented. I was seeking something else. Ultimately, I had an epiphany. I realized that I wanted to study art and become a professional artist. This was not completely out of character as I had painted since childhood and taken art classes throughout my life. My art journey began, and success quickly followed.
Early on, I received an award from NYTimes art critic William Zimmer. I was invited to important group exhibitions, had a two-person exhibition in Germany, and a group exhibit in Italy, participated in a museum exhibition in Athens, Greece, and received an artist’s grant to go to Israel. My work was recently reviewed in an art magazine, is published in books and newspapers, and is owned in collections in London, the States, Mexico, Germany, Italy, and Athens, Greece. I was, however, advised early on not to disclose that I was also a psychologist as I might not be taken seriously in the art world.
The art world has changed in the last 10-20 years, becoming more flexible and somewhat more diverse. An artist/psychologist is now perceived as cool, a perspective that adds depth and makes the work more interesting. I am fortunate to have representation from a Manhattan Gallery. I recently opened a solo museum exhibition. I will be opening another one-woman exhibition at a University in 2024. All the above are signs of a mature artist.
Being a mature woman provides great wisdom, but with it also comes health problems. My solo museum exhibition opened on December 3rd, 2022. On December 12, 2022, I was scheduled for neurosurgery. After months of preparation, the surgery was canceled when the neurosurgeon decided it was unnecessary. I had anticipated 3-4 months of recovery. Suddenly I was facing 3-4 months with no social engagements, no obligations, and a new lease on life. What did I want with this unexpected gift of time?
It became an existential moment. I felt stymied in my art for a considerable period. I worried that I might produce the same painting repeatedly. I had recently completed a series of 12 paintings but wasn’t sure what was next. I wanted to feel excited and engaged with my art again but felt bereft of ideas. Also, I was interested in thinking seriously about the intersection of art and psychology. In an unexpected pivot, I decided to apply to MFA programs in the visual arts.
My expectations of acceptance were low. Graduate programs typically prefer young students whom they can mold and influence and who will have lengthy careers. Furthermore, most artists complete an MFA and then develop a professional art career. Not me; I already have a thriving career. However, forging my own path does come naturally.
However, I am not alone in making major pivots in life. Nell Painter, a scholar, author, and historian at Princeton University, decided in her 60s to go to art school. She wrote the book Old in Art School, which describes her experience as an older black woman learning to become an artist while being very different from her cohort.
I am grateful and surprised to be accepted into several strong programs. After negotiating with my husband, as I will live in another city for two months every year, I accepted one of the offers. In two weeks, I leave for an MFA program at the Massachusetts College of Art and Design in Boston.
When mentioning that I am going to graduate school at 70, people are excited and often imply that I am a “role model or inspiration.” While pleasant to hear, I am not convinced that is the case. What I do know is that I am living my life. Meanwhile, I pack my studio, read art history, and prepare for the trip to Boston.