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Cori Ross – Inspired by the magic of the mountains

She says she’s been into art all her life. But until recently, she never really thought of herself as an artist.“It’s kind of funny that way,” says Cori Ross.

She says she’s been into art all her life. But until recently, she never really thought of herself as an artist.“It’s kind of funny that way,” says Cori Ross. “I remember being in high school and watching the artsy kids and realizing I wasn’t really like them. It was almost like I had to hide my artistic talents because I was such a jock. I was on the basketball team, the volleyball team — I didn’t look or act at all like an artist should. Or at least, the way I thought an artist should look and act…”

Skiing is what really turned her on back then. “I grew up on the slopes of Silver Star,” says the Vernon native. “My parents introduced us to the sport at a very young age.” She laughs. “We rented this little A-frame on the mountain. It was really rustic. No telephone, no TV — but lots of outdoor activities. It was a simple, healthy life — I just loved it…”

And though she didn’t realize it at the time, her artistic sensibilities were also being tickled by her mountain surroundings. “Vernon isn’t all that far from Silver Star,” she explains. “But they’re like two different worlds. I can still picture myself in the family car climbing up the Silver Star road and emerging from the valley clouds into bright sunshine. The snow sparkled! It was like a field full of diamonds. And I knew that this was where I belonged.” A pause. “You know, I lived for skiing in those days. Still do now, for that matter.”

She smiles. “I’m not sure that you should put this in your story, but I think the way you ski says a lot about the kind of person you are. You see, skiing to me is as much an art as it is a sport. I mean, if you can ski — really ski — then chances are good that you can dance and make love well too.”

>We’re digressing. But then maybe we’re not…

Today, Cori Ross is considered one of Sea-to-Sky’s most successful artist/entrepreneurs. Working from her home studio in Whistler Cay, she creates what can only be described as “whimsical mountain scenes” in a distinctive painting style that is uniquely hers. How distinctive? Original works go for anywhere from $3,500-$6,000! “It’s a time-consuming technique,” she explains. “So I only get to produce six or seven originals a year. Fortunately, my art cards and giclée prints are now quite popular too.”

Indeed. As much a business person as an artist — and not at all shy to acknowledge that point — Ross has managed to combine her love of mountains, skiing and art to create a very successful niche for herself. These days her work can be found at various shops in mountain resorts across Western Canada. “I sold my first art cards to Dave Davenport and Lauren Wornig at Skitch,” she tells me. “And that was a huge breakthrough. Suddenly I realized I might be able to make a living as an artist here.”Another quick shot of happy laughter. “And that’s something I never really counted on…”

So how the heck did a Vernon sports junkie end up at Whistler making a good living as an artist? Keep reading, it’s a fascinating story.

Like so many others of her generation, Cori took time off after high school to explore the world beyond her Okanagan home. From Australia to Europe, from Japan to Thailand: the young, artist-to-be created her own personal version of The Grand Tour. And when it was all over, she found herself living in Kitsilano. “It was 1986 and Expo was happening,” she remembers. “It was an incredible time to be living in Vancouver.”

Especially when you’re 21, working as a waitress at the Keg at Granville Island — and surrounded by co-workers whose parents all have places at Whistler. “I pretty much fell in love with Whistler from the moment I first skied here,” she says. “I just kept coming up and coming up until finally, I decided to spend my winters here. I don’t know how to explain it exactly. I liked coming up on weekends and stuff. But somehow I wanted more. Besides, there were so many new opportunities opening up for young people at Whistler back then that it was hard to ignore the call.”

The year was 1989. The fledgling mountain community was just getting its financial affairs in order after a very tough decade, and the brand new Chateau Whistler was looking for employees. “So I got a job in the Health Spa and then at the Mallard Lounge,” recounts Cori. “And that was the beginning of another fantastic period in my life. I’d work winters at Whistler and return to my beachside apartment in Kits for the summer.” Another smile. “But the Whistler magic just kept working its charm on me and I eventually decided to move up here full-time. I guess that was around 1991-92.”

Her longstanding experience in the restaurant business was both an asset and a curse. “Getting work at Whistler was never a problem,” she says. “But getting out of that business was tough. It’s a wonderful way of life when you’re young. But after a while you start realizing that working for tips just isn’t sustainable. At some point, you need a salary…”

Still, it’s not like she looks back on her restaurant time with disappointment “I worked at the Val D’Isere for seven years,” she explains. “And I loved every minute of it. During that time I went from hosting to management. And there were certainly some great percs associated with my job — like getting called up at the last minute to fill an empty seat at one of the local heli-skiing outfits. But I also knew I’d have to find a steadier form of income — especially when I bought my own place and started paying a mortgage.”

The thing about living at Whistler and working at a restaurant, she explains, is that it’s really tough to get ahead. “You put some money aside during the winter, but then you usually run out part way through the summer.” A smile wavers at the edge of her features. “I remember a few years ago looking at my four maxed-out credit cards and desperately trying to figure out a way to pay for that year’s season’s pass…”

Meanwhile, she was still producing art — if mostly for her own enjoyment. “For a while I was convinced you couldn’t make a living here as an artist. It was a passion, not a job.” Still, if her walls needed a picture, she’d do a painting. And if her friends or employers needed art, she’d be quite willing to produce work for them too. “I painted all the ads for the Val D’Isere,” she explains. “Did a lot of other local ads too. But it was definitely a sideline.”

In 1998, she decided to take a break from the restaurant business. “I was burned out,” she says. “The long hours, late nights, the walking up and down stairs loaded down with dishes — my health was definitely suffering.”

That’s when it hit her. “Maybe I can paint some really fun mountain scenes and make some art cards that I can sell. And maybe if I’m successful selling these art cards, I can go back to the restaurant and work there only part-time.”

Her plan succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. “I sold some of my cards to Skitch and then I got an order from Coldstream Dry Goods in Silver Star.” It’s clear from Cori’s tone that even now, 10 years later, she’s still a bit shocked by her initial good fortune. “Suddenly I started getting phone calls and people asking me: ‘Do you have paintings for sale?’ And of course I wasn’t going to say no. So I started producing more…”

It was at this point that she made the fateful change from watercolours to acrylic paints. “I was abusing the watercolours,” she explains with a cryptic grin. “I was trying to get brighter, more vibrant colours from a medium that just wasn’t made for that. So when an artist friend of mine suggested I try acrylics I was ready for the change.” Soon Ross had graduated to fluid acrylics and a subtly new painting technique.

“Every artist has their own style,” she maintains, “particularly if they’re self taught. I discovered fluid acrylics really suited my painting style…”

Although the lightly nostalgic themes that inform her work — a cosy chalet in a snowstorm, a happy snowman holding a showy pair of powder sticks, a “family” of colourful skis stuck in a snow bank — might suggest a simplistic approach to technique, Cori’s painting style is anything but simplistic.

“I’m a very structured person,” she explains. “So there’s a lot of structure to my work.” She laughs. “Because of this crazy, time-intensive technique I’ve developed it might take me four-six weeks to compete a painting.” She stops speaking. Sighs. “I miss the early days when I worked a lot quicker. But now I’m more detailed; way more demanding of myself. My work has definitely evolved over the years.”

As for the consumer-friendly aspects of her work — what some critics might call her “overly commercial” style — she makes no apologies. “I’m an artist,” she says. “But I’m also a businesswoman. I do stuff to sell. You know, I think it’s great if an artist can stick to painting works on big canvasses that bring big prices. But that’s not all there is to art…”

She smiles. “When I see somebody clutching a framed work of mine that only cost them $40,” she says. “And I see how totally excited they are about their purchase…” She pauses for a beat. Smiles. “Well, that makes me really happy about what I am doing.”