Today we’d like to introduce you to Katelin Schutt.
Hi Katelin, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
I’ve had many professional roles in my life—mushroom farmer, teacher, baker, cook, and mother (which I absolutely consider a professional-level role). Through all of those seasons, I was always an artist. My practice lived in the margins for a long time—first in the margins of my school notebooks, and later in the margins of early motherhood.
But something changed after my second child was born. It was as if bringing life into the world—the ultimate creative act—made everything else feel less frightening. Suddenly, taking risks, being audacious, and pushing myself to grow as an artist felt not only possible, but necessary. I committed fully to studying and painting, carving out real time and space to take myself seriously.
I spent a year studying with world-renowned figure artist Steve Huston, and through his teaching, coaching, and my own disciplined practice, I began to find my voice. That was the true turning point—the moment my work stepped out of the margins and became the center of my life.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
Has it been a smooth road? Not at all—and I’m grateful for that. Every struggle has been a lesson, and those lessons have shaped me as an artist and as a person.
I’ve learned to trust myself enough to stay on the path I feel is right, even when doubt inevitably creeps in. I’ve learned that joy is the most important compass in my work, and that gratitude is something you practice, not something you wait to feel. I’ve had to cultivate patience during slow seasons, and especially during the many interruptions that come with having two small children. Most days, the work is interrupted—but I’ve learned how to find my way back into the flow of creation, again and again.
Those challenges have taught me resilience, devotion, and a kind of creative flexibility I never expected to develop. And each one has carried me forward.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
Right now, I’m working on a major body of work for my solo show, Metanoia, which centers on ecstatic dancers moving through a surreal cave environment. It explores transformation, birth, death, and regeneration—the big cycles we all move through, both spiritually and emotionally. It’s the most ambitious and cohesive project I’ve ever taken on, and I’m deeply proud of the vision, the planning, and the vulnerability behind it.
Although my current focus is on the human body, I’m equally drawn to still life and landscape. I’m continually inspired by the natural world and our place within it. Whether I’m painting a figure or a field, I’m always exploring the interplay between the physical and the intangible—the meeting place of the seen and the unseen, the material world and the inner one. That tension is the heart of my work.
I’m probably best known for capturing movement and emotional honesty. People often tell me my figures feel alive—that they can sense the breath, the weight shift, the transformation unfolding beneath the pose. That’s exactly what I’m after: not just depicting a body, but revealing the inner story, the archetype underneath the gesture.
What sets my work apart is the combination of boldness and tenderness. I’m not afraid of the rawness of the body—its power, awkwardness, joy, complexity—and I try to paint with the same honesty I want to see in the world. There’s a sense of freedom in the figures I paint, a kind of permission slip to take up space, to be wild, to transform. My hope is that viewers feel that spaciousness in themselves when they encounter my work.
What would you say have been one of the most important lessons you’ve learned?
The most important lesson I’ve learned is to follow joy—not the thing I think will make me happy or the thing that will appeal to a broad audience, but the thing that actually sparks something in me. That small spark has never led me wrong. I allow my intuitive joy to guide me toward the work I’m meant to make, the risks worth taking, and the parts of my practice that feel the most alive. When I follow joy, everything else falls into place.
Pricing:
- Watercolor Portraits from $250
- Oil Portraits from $500
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.kschuttart.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kschuttart/
