Paul Steiner, a largely self-taught artist who transformed from a carpenter into one of Santa Fe's respected landscape painters, died August 7 after battling cancer. He was 73 years old. Steiner's partner of 31 years, Vickie Gabin, confirmed his passing, describing their relationship as being "happily unmarried" throughout their three decades together.
Steiner's journey to becoming a professional artist began unconventionally after 35 years working as a carpenter, followed by brief studies in architecture and ultimately a back injury that forced him to reconsider his career path. His paintings, primarily oil works featuring wild and remote New Mexico landscapes, eventually found their way into galleries along Canyon Road and other prominent venues throughout the region.
"He was very brilliant and focused," said longtime friend and fellow artist Eli Levin of Dixon. "He zeroed in, and he found his niche within a few years." Levin, who describes himself as a social realist, first met Steiner 25 years ago when he hired him for studio construction work. Despite their different artistic approaches, they bonded over shared backgrounds as New York natives with writer fathers who both ended up in New Mexico.
Born and raised on New York City's Lower East Side, Steiner developed his connection to New Mexico through his father, writer Stan Steiner, who frequently brought his son to the state during his youth. After his parents' divorce and his father's remarriage, the family relocated permanently to New Mexico. As a teenager, Steiner's grandmother encouraged him to build her a small adobe home on land his father had purchased, partly to keep the young man "off the streets and out of trouble," according to Gabin.
That initial construction project, built room by room near what is now Museum Hill, taught Steiner the fundamentals of adobe building and launched his carpentry career. For decades, he worked primarily on residential construction projects, often sketching as part of his building plans. In 2000, when Steiner was in his late 40s, he enrolled in architecture classes at the University of New Mexico, relocating with Gabin to Albuquerque for several years while pursuing his studies.
Although Steiner ultimately decided architecture wasn't his calling, the academic experience proved transformative. His regular drawing assignments for class sparked a genuine enjoyment of artistic expression. Gabin recalled that he took additional art classes and participated in drawing groups during this period. "He would tell you himself that his early stuff was really bad," she said, "but he kept at it."
After returning to Santa Fe, Steiner resumed construction work, though he limited himself to smaller projects. Like many in the building trades, he eventually suffered a debilitating back injury that forced him to reconsider his physical labor-intensive career. "He said, 'I've got to stop working like this,'" Gabin remembered. It was then that Steiner made the pivotal decision to pursue professional artistry full-time.
Gabin, a successful water rights lawyer earning substantial income at the time, provided the financial support necessary for Steiner to make this career transition. "I was astonished at how hard he worked all the time and how disciplined he was," she reflected. "He was disciplined in many ways, but the painting, I quite admired him." This support system proved crucial as Steiner developed his artistic voice and built his reputation in the competitive Santa Fe art scene.
Steiner's artistic process involved extended periods in nature, absorbing the atmosphere and essence of Southwestern landscapes. He would make quick sketches of scenes that captured his attention, then return to his studio to paint complete compositions, often working from memory. His technique involved using a limited palette of oil paints, which he mixed to achieve the earthy, authentic colors characteristic of his work.
"When you see landscapes of New Mexico, the colors tend to be quite bright and arbitrary in a way," explained Stephen Parise, founder and director of Big Happy gallery in Santa Fe, which showcased Steiner's work in a collection late last year. "But Paul really kept them down to what he saw, how he saw them." This commitment to realistic color representation set Steiner's work apart from more stylized Southwestern art.
Steiner's landscapes frequently featured solitary human figures, often appearing forlorn or isolated within vast, desolate terrains. "He would put these wandering people in these desolate landscapes," Levin observed. To achieve accurate lighting and positioning for these figures, Steiner purchased a kiln from a secondhand store for approximately $150 and began creating sculptural models that he could illuminate from various angles in his studio.
"He just went to town," Gabin said of his sculpture work. "He started modeling figures to be able to shine light on them from different angles." This innovative approach allowed him to study how light played across human forms, enhancing the realism and emotional impact of his painted figures.
Despite his artistic success, Steiner remained characteristically reserved and introverted, particularly when interacting with gallery visitors and potential buyers. Gabin recalled his early discomfort at gallery openings: "When he started showing on Canyon Road, he'd be standing outside the gallery not mingling, and he just didn't know what to say." She coached him with simple advice: "Introduce yourself, say thank you for coming, and ask them a question about themselves."
Steiner's final exhibition at Big Happy gallery proved to be both a personal and professional triumph. The show drew large, enthusiastic crowds, creating what Gabin described as "a jolly affair" and what Levin confirmed was a commercial success. Parise, who focuses more on artistic merit than conventional credentials when selecting artists, found Steiner's straightforward, realistic approach both refreshing and emotionally resonant.
"He just had a natural talent of sketching and drawing and being a draftsman," Parise concluded. "He had a great natural talent." Steiner's legacy stands as a testament to the possibility of artistic transformation later in life and the power of dedication, discipline, and authentic vision in creating meaningful art that captures the essence of New Mexico's rugged landscape.
