The LederEasel, a Creative Solution Born from Real-Life Experience
In 2016, I decided to try my hand at painting, something I had struggled with many years earlier at The School of Visual Arts in NYC. My focus during my studies was on advertising design and photography, so painting vases and trees did not interest me. I wasn’t very good at it, didn’t put in much effort, and as a result, after leaving art school, I avoided painting altogether, instead concentrating on the fields where I already had some understanding and a reasonable chance of earning a living.
Over the years, I followed a circuitous path in the arts. I spent time in advertising design, freelance photography, and about a decade working at a potter’s wheel. I also designed and built trade show exhibits and furniture. At one point during this journey, I attended night school to learn how to use a computer, wanting to transfer my ideas from sketchpad to screen. Over time, I relied on the computer for everything, from designing logos to creating photo-realistic renderings. This transition was so successful that it became my primary method of working.
After decades of visualizing only on a computer, I realized I wanted to explore other creative outlets away from the screen. That’s when I surprisingly turned to painting. I started by purchasing a French field easel and a large box of pastels, then signed up for a workshop with Liz Haywood-Sullivan, a truly gifted painter and wonderful teacher. However, I quickly realized two things: first, I lacked the fundamental painting skills I had neglected in school, and second, my tools were not working for me. My pastels were missing essential neutrals and grays, leaving me with a limited selection. Worse, my French field easel was awkward, flimsy, and frustrating to use. Yes, I was blaming my tools.
Looking around the room, I noticed a few students using handy adjustable tripod setups that held their boards with ease. These were compact, portable, and practical—everything my bulky wooden easel was not. Later that evening, I researched these setups and was surprised by their high cost. Instead of purchasing one, I decided to design something that would better suit my needs and be more affordable. Drawing on my background in designing store fixtures, I sketched out (on a computer, of course) a board holder that would be strong, durable, and practical.
By my next workshop, I had a working prototype. It was lightweight, sturdy, and easy to set up. I put it to the test, and although my painting skills hadn’t improved, I looked good trying. So good, in fact, that several students approached me asking about my setup and where they could get one. After explaining how it came to be, I was asked the question that changed everything: Was I planning to make more?
During the drive home, I pondered that question and decided to invest some time and money to see where it might lead. Over the next two years, I experimented with various features—magnets, springs, and other mechanisms—before refining my design into a streamlined, functional system without unnecessary extras. I found a company to produce them and began learning how to build a website. This was soon followed by the development of the Palette Holder as an essential add-on, completing what would become the LederEasel kit.
Today, thousands of artists in over 23 countries rely on the LederEasel, whether they are painting in the studio or outdoors. What started as a personal solution has transformed into an essential tool for artists worldwide, helping them focus on what truly matters—their art. Looking back, it’s ironic that the very thing I once dismissed in art school led me to create something that now plays a significant role in the creative journeys of so many others.
This circuitous journey continues to be a fulfilling and worthwhile learning experience.
Over the years, I followed a circuitous path in the arts. I spent time in advertising design, freelance photography, and about a decade working at a potter’s wheel. I also designed and built trade show exhibits and furniture. At one point during this journey, I attended night school to learn how to use a computer, wanting to transfer my ideas from sketchpad to screen. Over time, I relied on the computer for everything, from designing logos to creating photo-realistic renderings. This transition was so successful that it became my primary method of working.
After decades of visualizing only on a computer, I realized I wanted to explore other creative outlets away from the screen. That’s when I surprisingly turned to painting. I started by purchasing a French field easel and a large box of pastels, then signed up for a workshop with Liz Haywood-Sullivan, a truly gifted painter and wonderful teacher. However, I quickly realized two things: first, I lacked the fundamental painting skills I had neglected in school, and second, my tools were not working for me. My pastels were missing essential neutrals and grays, leaving me with a limited selection. Worse, my French field easel was awkward, flimsy, and frustrating to use. Yes, I was blaming my tools.
Looking around the room, I noticed a few students using handy adjustable tripod setups that held their boards with ease. These were compact, portable, and practical—everything my bulky wooden easel was not. Later that evening, I researched these setups and was surprised by their high cost. Instead of purchasing one, I decided to design something that would better suit my needs and be more affordable. Drawing on my background in designing store fixtures, I sketched out (on a computer, of course) a board holder that would be strong, durable, and practical.
By my next workshop, I had a working prototype. It was lightweight, sturdy, and easy to set up. I put it to the test, and although my painting skills hadn’t improved, I looked good trying. So good, in fact, that several students approached me asking about my setup and where they could get one. After explaining how it came to be, I was asked the question that changed everything: Was I planning to make more?
During the drive home, I pondered that question and decided to invest some time and money to see where it might lead. Over the next two years, I experimented with various features—magnets, springs, and other mechanisms—before refining my design into a streamlined, functional system without unnecessary extras. I found a company to produce them and began learning how to build a website. This was soon followed by the development of the Palette Holder as an essential add-on, completing what would become the LederEasel kit.
Today, thousands of artists in over 23 countries rely on the LederEasel, whether they are painting in the studio or outdoors. What started as a personal solution has transformed into an essential tool for artists worldwide, helping them focus on what truly matters—their art. Looking back, it’s ironic that the very thing I once dismissed in art school led me to create something that now plays a significant role in the creative journeys of so many others.
This circuitous journey continues to be a fulfilling and worthwhile learning experience.
