Creative Optimist
Durham artist Steven Ray Miller paints art, with heart
By Andrea Billups
Many in the Duke community have seen Steven Ray Miller’s art, even if they don’t know it was his.
Your room key at the Washington Duke Inn? Yep, that’s his work. Prints of Duke Chapel and the student hoops campout known as Krzyzewskiville, many of which hang on the walls of well-appointed houses around Durham? Those are his, too.
And what about those rainbow-hued bumper stickers and car magnets with an outline of the state that read: “Y’all Means EVERYONE”. Miller, a gentle and thoughtful painter fond of adding secret hearts into his works, created that design as well.
“I believe there is no ‘them,’” he says from his art-filled home in a cozy Durham enclave. “It’s ALL us,” he says, noting that he is a big fan of unity, of a peaceful getting-along.
Miller, 72, graduated from Duke in 1973 with degrees in studio art and psychology. Both his father and his uncle attended the university and when the White Plains, New York native began his college search, Duke just felt right.
He left high school knowing he was good in math and science, but those majors were not where he landed. He took art classes at Duke and felt inspired, if not led, to create. That was the beginning of an arts career that has spanned five decades and has seen him paint 600 of mainly gouache watercolor works that have endeared him to the community where he is the subject of three short films and where he helmed this month (eds note: Dec. 13, 2024) a 40-piece gallery showing alongside promoting his new book “An ARTobiography.”
“One of my brothers said I was a glass-is-three-quarters-full kind of guy,” Miller shares, laughing at the characterization of his light-hearted disposition. Of his art, he says “you don’t need therapy before or after you look at my paintings,” which are colorful, upbeat and while complex, beautiful in their viewing simplicity.
An early follower of Ram Dass, the spiritual teacher, yoga guru, psychologist and writer, Miller once manned his own mobile framing business (he now has a framing studio behind his home). He said that his idea to place hearts inside his paintings began as a way to impress a long-ago girlfriend. He continued the placements long after she was gone (and now encourages people to guesstimate just how many are in each work).
“Hearts help us to share the feelings of love and hope that connect us all,” says Miller who married at 42 (now amicably divorced) and became a dad to a son two years later.
Not all of his paintings are inspired by the Blue Devils. His artwork showcases diverse interests: the Statue of Liberty, flowers, a patchwork dog, even scenes from his hometown. They have been made into prints, puzzles, an annual calendar and fun fact: one was once a prize for a winner on “Wheel of Fortune.” In the ‘70s, he was known for his “stripe” paintings, and through the ‘80s and ‘90s a variety of mostly landscapes and architecture. He also created a series of paintings on glass, which have not been seen as widely as some of his other genres, including his popular Duke landmarks including Duke Gardens.
“I do a fair number of commission paintings. Those are often architecture, house portraits and stuff like that. He adds: “I’m not good at painting faces, clouds, blendy sunsets or animals. I’m real good at people from behind in motion but facial I just don’t do it.”
As someone who is self-employed, Miller is unabashed in marketing his work. If an artist’s work is solitary, Miller says he is just as much a person who is social and determined to showcase what he does in the best light. His work process has been changed by technology and the easy way the world, online, can now put eyes on his paintings – which is a good thing and a tough thing for those seeking to earn a living in that space, he said.
“It’s never been easier to share your work with the world, with everybody. It can go around the world 10 times and not change one pixel and I didn’t make a penny,” Miller observes. “It’s never been harder to generate revenue and particularly our children, you know, they know information is free and that’s where I am grateful that I have old-fashioned tangible stuff to sell.”
He adds: “I’ve always felt that there was a big market for my work.”