In an exclusive conversation with Cassens Fine Art, Colt Idol delves deeply into his artistic journey, intricately weaving together his upbringing and the foundational influences that have shaped his distinctive style. 

Titled "Montana in Color," this exhibition invites you to explore his signature color palette and his mastery of capturing the interplay between light and shadow of quintessential Montana scenes.

What inspired you to create this particular exhibition coming up at Cassens Fine Art? Were there any specific themes or concepts that motivated your work? 

The themes and concepts for this show are very much aligned with what motivates me daily: color, light, energy, and the West, with a particular focus on Montana. Western iconography and culture have always fascinated me since I was young. Growing up in an environment that emphasized history and the natural elements of our surroundings deeply influenced me. When I started creating art, it made perfect sense to draw from these inspirations. I want this show to be an extension of that passion.

Could you walk me through the creative process behind your artistic approach? What does it look like from the initial idea to the final execution? What are the key stages?

Yeah, sure. Most pieces start with an inspiration trigger—something that sparks an idea. It could be a sunset, an animal I’ve photographed, a mood, or even some descriptive words that resonate with me. I think about how to turn those initial inspirations into a piece that evokes the same emotions.

I usually start with a feeling or something I’ve witnessed in nature, rather than a specific historical point or figure. Then, I begin formulating the piece around that inspiration.

For this show, I have a variety of work, some completed, some still in progress, and some just conceptual at this point. I aim to showcase the full range of my work, both in terms of color and subject matter. So, you'll see a variety of themes and moods reflected in the pieces.

Are there any specific feelings or emotions that you really hope to convey through the pieces in this show?

One recurring theme in my work is the sensationalized natural beauty. You’ll see an emphasis on that throughout the show. Sunrises and sunsets are obvious starting points, but there are also nightscapes and close-up wildlife scenes. I include Native American and cowboy subjects that focus more on the individuals than the environment. So, a consistent aspect of this show will be the sensations of natural beauty.

We all experience these moments in nature that hit us and stay with us, but they aren’t always adequately captured or remembered with photography. I believe that painting from a mood and emotion perspective can take it further, allowing more freedom than photography.

It's more about conveying a feeling than achieving realism or structure. Another theme I look forward to exploring is the element of time. I often depict teepees and Native American subjects, which help remove the present-day context. This interests me because you can have the vibrancy and energy of today, but the subject matter takes you back to an indeterminate time.

This element invites viewers to picture life and nature as they were, opening up many doors for conversations and emotions. Instead of seeing roads and buildings around the corner, you imagine an expanse of untouched nature. I find this timeless quality fascinating, and I think it's something people can gravitate toward and discuss.

I noticed there are two teepees in the preview images for the show. They’re beautiful and seem to be a recurring motif in your work, almost becoming a signature of yours.

Yeah, I’d say so. Much of my work is inspired by where we live, specifically here in Northwest Montana. We're in Whitefish, and we have a 26-foot teepee in our backyard that my wife and I painted. We face west, so we have a big valley floor with flat farmland, and we get these beautiful sunsets every night. A lot of inspiration for my pieces comes from simply looking out of our backyard. Even in more mountainous settings, it’s what we experience most here. So, Montana's beauty is almost a sub-theme in my work.

Do any pieces in this collection have a specific story behind them based on an experience or story you’ve heard?

With what I’ve created so far, not necessarily. There will be, as I often get into pieces that way, but it’s not terribly frequent. I paint a lot from past experiences, mentors, and nostalgia, as many artists do. But finding inspiration is easy for me. My main starting point is a small morsel of inspiration, then building out from there.

Aside from the teepee, are there any additional symbols or motifs that hold special meaning in your other pieces?

Definitely. I’m fond of old buildings, like grain elevators and old cabins that are visibly worn. This ties back to the timelessness we talked about earlier. Wildlife is another big one. My dad’s career involved a lot of wildlife through guiding hunts in Alaska, being a taxidermist, and our wildlife photography endeavors. Growing up in Big Fork, Montana, we were surrounded by bears, mountain lions, deer—wildlife was a big part of our lives. That’s a significant source of inspiration for me.

When I think of your work, I think of teepees and horses. Also, your color palette is so distinct—bright, bold, and striking. It’s something I, along with many others, can recognize anywhere.

I’m glad you brought that up because, for me and for many who know my work, the color palette is probably the most recognizable element. Often, people expect the subject matter to be the most important, but it’s really not. The color, light, and energy within the piece are usually the main focus, with the subject matter being secondary.

Even with Western iconography, people ask if I was a cowboy, but I wasn’t. I didn’t grow up with horses and don’t understand cowboy life all that well. I just admire it. The same goes for Native American subjects—I strive to portray them accurately in both historical regalia and anatomy, especially with horses.

But it’s really about harnessing color to push boundaries while staying believable. I’ve had pieces that never leave the studio because the color takes over and they lose their grounding in reality. From day one, I’ve tried to balance pushing and restraining color and light to stay on that line of believability. I'd rather people say, “This feels accurate,” than just being technically accurate. So, that’s definitely something I lean into.

As viewers explore this particular show, what kind of journey or narrative arc do you hope they experience? Are there any specific reactions or thoughts you wish to evoke in your audience as they engage with your art? 

Yeah, I think there are a couple of things. The broad one is the beauty of nature. Most of my pieces have a profound natural element. Even when the work is contemporary or focuses on portraits, it often aims to create a connection with nature and touch the heartstrings—if that doesn't sound too cheesy. I hope people take a moment to slow down and appreciate the grandeur, color, and intensity of nature after seeing my work.

On a more micro level, I want people to start seeing color differently. For example, when looking at a sunset, I hope they notice the greens in the sky or the intensity of the golds. Or when they see a shadow, instead of just writing it off as a dark area, I hope they see the colors within it. Everything is filled with color, and I emphasize this in my work, especially with colorful shadow areas.

In photography, silhouettes and lit areas are full of color and light, but dark areas often just go black. I strive to ensure even the near-black areas in my paintings are colorful and full of life. From a technical standpoint, controlling those dark value colors is one of the most challenging parts. They can get muddy or too black quickly. I use a lot of near-black colors, but they still have saturation and pleasing hues.

Maintaining this colorful realism is crucial, and I spend a lot of time ensuring the dark, warm values and shadow colors are interesting. This adds depth and makes the sense of light in the piece more impactful.

I like what you said about the near-black colors and how getting them right is such a technical challenge. You dial it in so well, and that has to be extremely challenging.

Just thinking about it brings back memories. The first couple of years, I relied heavily on color mixing recipe books, which were incredibly helpful. But the most challenging part during those first few years was seeing a color in person or having a color in my head and then trying to recreate it accurately on my palette. It was frustrating because often, I wouldn't know how to get there. Even if I got close, trying to perfect it would sometimes make it fall apart.

Now, color mixing has become almost mathematical for me. I know what combinations will yield the color I need. I feel confident that, within a reasonable degree, I can mix any color out there and get it fairly close. That has become a huge strength, but early on, it was definitely one of the greatest challenges.

Could you describe the materials and methods you employ in your pieces and how you believe they enhance the intended final piece?

That's interesting. The one crucial element for me is the quality of the canvas. Early on, I used to think that the vibrancy and beauty of an artist's work came from expensive materials—like a high-priced tube of paint or premium brushes. But I’ve learned that’s not really the case. You can achieve excellent results with varying degrees of cost in materials.

Once you understand how to control and use your tools, they become just that—tools to create the final product. They aren't the game-changers.

From a philosophical standpoint, this realization highlights why art is so integral to human nature. Art, in all its forms, is a permanent part of our humanity. It’s not something that can be easily replaced by technology. Art isn't an essential service in the way we think of necessities, but it’s essential to humanity.

When you buy art, you’re buying the finished product, but you’re also buying the artist's decisions. That’s the unique aspect that only the artist can provide, and it’s what withstands the test of time. I try to lean into this during my process, making conscious decisions rather than stumbling into a finished piece. I want to be able to stand in front of my work and explain why I made certain choices. This reasoning adds value.

That makes a lot of sense. I was talking with Jake Gaetke almost a year ago. We came to the conclusion that art is our tangible fingerprints left on the world. 

The authenticity is so important. It's not just the visual; it's the story as well. You could compare it to IKEA furniture, for example. A lot of young people on a budget will spend more on character items and handmade pieces because they say something about them. These items have soul and a hand-touched quality to them—they're full of life.

Within the Western genre, there's something particularly captivating for people all over the country. While I do a lot of landscape work and not as much portrait work, I believe the Western iconography has an inherent nostalgia that few other genres possess. That's how I feel about it.

Often, I'll start a painting without much direction, just some feelings and a few starting blocks—usually a Western theme. Those themes excite me and resonate deeply. They're where my heart is from the start, making them an easy jumping-off point.

You talked earlier a little bit about your color palette, and the interplay of light and shadow seems to play a prominent role in your art. Can you explain how light and shadow contribute to the mood and storytelling within specific pieces?

In most pieces, people often comment on the light and color, how it feels like it's lit from behind or has a spotlight on it. The key to achieving that effect lies in the darks—the darker value colors are much more challenging to control. While lighter hues like golds are easier to manage, it's the mid values and darks that really make any source of light within a painting successful.

I often emphasize the importance of dark warms in my work. These are colors that sit lower on the value scale but carry warm tones, not your typical cool blues or shadows. They add richness and depth to the painting. For instance, if you look at a sunlit horse in my paintings, even though most of the values are dark, the warm tones make it feel bathed in sunlight.

From a technical standpoint, these dark warms are essential throughout my pieces for creating a strong sense of light. So, besides color theory and harmony, mastering value control is crucial. It's something I continually educate myself on to ensure my art communicates exactly what I intend.

Yeah, that is so interesting. Just hearing you talk about how the shadows and the dark parts of your paintings are still warm. That just made me realize that's what ultimately makes your color palette stand out. I've seen other paintings trying to achieve that bold brightness, but yours feels completely warm, like being drenched in sunlight at the end of a summer day. Can you explain more about how you achieve that warmth throughout your work?

Yeah, absolutely. A lot of it comes down to edges, which is something I touch on often. In terms of technique, controlling values, brushwork, and edges are crucial. Hard edges emphasize certain areas, while soft edges help blend and create atmosphere. Compositionally, edges play a significant role in directing the viewer's focus and conveying the message within the painting.

When it comes to warmth, especially in skies, for example, things can appear harsher and more defined in photographs than they do in reality. As an artist, it's essential to make deliberate choices that go beyond the photographic details. Establishing warm color relationships, softening edges, and maintaining proper value relationships are key to achieving a cohesive and impactful piece.

Skies are a focal point for me because they illustrate well how edge work and color warmth contribute to the overall feel of a painting. It's about capturing that natural warmth and light that resonates with viewers on a deeper level.

Do you paint mostly in the studio or do you do any plein air?

I don't do a lot of plein air, to be honest. Even when I do, it's mainly for educational purposes. I think plein air is great for capturing certain aspects of light and atmosphere that you can't replicate in the studio. However, I personally find that I do my best work in a controlled studio setting. I'm definitely more of a solitary studio painter. 

I participate in quick draws and painting demonstrations occasionally throughout the year, but they're not my preference. I much prefer the focus and control of my studio. I feel most comfortable taking in a scene, maybe snapping a photo on my phone, and really absorbing the essence of it. While it doesn't replace plein air painting entirely, it gives me valuable inspiration and material to work with when I'm back in the studio.

Could you share some insights into your upbringing and how it might've influenced your journey as an artist?

I’ve been going to the art shows in Great Falls since I was a kid. My brother and I would camp in the area with our parents all summer long and look for arrowheads. We would go to Native American areas and find them along with teepee rings and buffalo jumps. We’d also find a lot of fossils, shed antlers, and more. Then we'd go to these art shows, we'd trade what we found for beads or fossilized shark teeth. With that came the art component. We'd been going to art sales and art auctions for as long as I can remember.

My dad has been an artist in different forms his entire life. From sculpting to apparel to painting and writing. He had this beautiful art studio that was just full of collectibles for trade era items. I used to come home from school and I'd lay down in one of the dog beds for the rest of the day while he worked, usually sculpting.

So art was infused in me from an early age. I have been drawing pretty ferociously for as long as I can remember. I spent thousands and thousands of hours drawing and I still have a fair bit of them.

I thought I was going to be more either an architect or a graphic novelist because I was drawing off the wall stuff. But in the process, I was learning a lot of the rules of drawing along the way. I've always said to any young artists that are getting started, if you can draw, you can paint.

If you can get comfortable with the pencil, shading value, and line work, then you can do it with a brush. When I started painting, it was obvious what direction I was going to go in.

I started actually painting when I was in college. Middle school and high school were taken over by athletics. At the time, I was playing basketball and football and track and that's all I cared to do. I was supposed to play basketball in college at Montana State University, but I quickly had the knee injuries that a lot of athletes have and I realized pretty quickly about three semesters into school that I didn't really have any athletic future.

I took a closer look at my education. I had gone three different semesters with three different majors before I realized I had no idea what I'm even interested in. I hadn’t asked myself these questions, and it was my family overall, but especially my dad that said, “I think you should take a spell from school and just focus on art, actually go at it seriously for a period of time, and see how it goes.”

So that’s what I did. I left school and spent about a year working in my dad's studio. I had a little setup in my bedroom where I'd paint at night. I took a few workshops under other artists. Then I went back to school to get a degree in something.

After graduation, I joined a gallery in Whitefish and I started selling a lot of work. That’s when I realized I should stick with this and build on it. I'm incredibly thankful for where I'm at today and that I get to do this every day. It's such a humbling and flattering thing because I still haven't gotten over that someone would even want to hang my work in their house, let alone pay for it. That doesn't go away and it never gets old. It's just the coolest thing every time when someone reacts to your work in a profound way. It’s fuel in the studio to keep going and create new things.

I don't have any problems saying that I do think about what other people might say or think about my work when I'm creating them. I ask myself, “How are people going to respond to this?” It's not just about me and what I want to say.

Art is so personal. I don't keep a lot of my own work; I prefer having other artists' pieces in our home. But even though I see my work all the time, it's still a part of me in some way. So when people connect with it and find meaning in it, it means a lot to me.

I'm passing on that love for art to my son, who's six now. We paint together at our easels—he has his own little setup next to mine. It's amazing to see his creativity bloom. He's already filled a whole box with his paintings, and I can see he's got some natural talent and a real interest in it. I'm so proud of him.

I want to nurture that passion just like my upbringing did for me. His teachers say he's always drawing and doodling, so I'm going to support him every step of the way. It's a beautiful journey to share with him.

It's in his blood. I love that. That is so cool. And you got it from your dad - Which leads me to my next question: Your dad was a huge support and still is along your artistic journey. Who else has been a constant source of encouragement and support, whether that's mentors, family, or friends? Who has played a significant role in nurturing your creativity in your career?

You know, and this might not be the most conventional answer, because I have a lot of artist friends that I talk to regularly. We spend time dissecting each other's work, looking at what works and what doesn't. It's a constant learning process.

For me, there wasn't a single mentor who guided me to my current style. It was more about learning how to critique art and make good decisions that help me grow as an artist. Growing up, my mentors were more in the business realm—gallery owners, art dealers, collectors, even everyday folks who appreciate art. I learned early on that their insights are invaluable. Art and business are intertwined, and if you want to sustain your voice and resonate with others, you have to understand both sides.

So, for newer artists, I often stress the importance of embracing the business aspects of art. It's essential for making a lasting impact in the art world. This balance between personal expression and commercial appeal is crucial. We all want to create what inspires us, but understanding the business side is key to success. From my experience, people want artists to thrive and be appreciated. Those who collect my work have been incredibly supportive and insightful, guiding many of my decisions.

Looking at art history, are there any artists, living or deceased, who you deeply admire and consider role models? What about their work resonates with you?

There are several artists I deeply admire. I keep a small library with books I reference often, marked with quotes and notes. Among them, one artist stands out: James Reynolds, a Western artist who passed away in the early 2000s. His use of color was phenomenal—clean and unexpected in places, yet always making sense. His brushwork was equally impressive, seamlessly blending realism with impressionism. Reynolds mastered his medium to convey profound messages with minimal brush strokes—a true testament to his skill and sophistication.

If I had to choose one role model, it would be James Reynolds, primarily for his mastery of color and brushwork. He's been a significant influence on my approach to painting.

Last question I have for you is what aspirations do you hold for the legacy you leave behind? How do you envision your impact on the art world and the stories people will tell about your contributions? 

You know, I think two things come to mind. One similar to one of the other answers I gave before would be, I don't know, but I, because I'm not there yet, I think that'll become more apparent in time. And I kind of like that because it puts, and this is a little side note, but it, I think spending too much time on that can put undue pressure that doesn't help your work.

And that's one thing I'm, that's another thing I'm pretty conscious of, undue pressure, whether it's timelines or whether it's, I think I know where this, where I want this painting to go. So all the decision-making along the way is very linear and it doesn't allow you to pivot and change until your best creations are when you have a lot of not just of the actual components of the painting, latitude of color and brushwork, but latitude of thought where I can let, I can allow myself to be guided while I'm in it and not knowing necessarily where I'm going. I think it almost is a metaphor for an artist's journey in the broader sense, but to be a little bit more down to earth, I want my work to register with people in an emotional way.

And I think that's every artist's goal, but I don't care so much about, you know, what price point I ultimately get to, or what accolades, you know, if there are books or what accolades have been in, you know, museums or other things like that. I would like my work to, you know, permeate as far as wide as it can and touch people in a positive way, or at least in a thought-provoking way to even ask, ultimately if it accomplished one goal and that was to get people to talk about art, I would consider that to be a good success. And even asking the questions like, okay, you know, this piece moves me and why? And to have to ask those, ask and answer those “why” questions.

Why do I like this? And why do I like this more than this? Or, you know, do I like them the same? Those art conversations are so much fun. And I think they add a lot to people's lives. And I think that people, when they collect work and they have work in their home, I think it's good for them to be able to, just for, I want them to be able to stand behind the work as well and say, I don't know, I just like it, which is a completely fine answer, but take it a step further, engage in art, spend time with it, be able to talk about it, maybe pick up a few art principle tips that they can mention when they're talking about my paintings or other artists' work.

So I don't know, bringing people to art and Western art, maybe in particular, if I can help accomplish that, I'd feel great about that.