Art From Heat And Wonder Sandpoint Artist’s Tiles To Get National Exposure In Catalog

Gail Lyster grows gardens in kitchen countertops. She turns bathtubs into imaginary aquariums and shower stalls into cattail-filled duck ponds.

Lyster, 45, is a tile artist.

Her work ends up grouted into floors, countertops and fireplaces as often as it’s hung on a wall.

“I never thought I would make a living like this,” says Lyster, guiding a tiny paintbrush, her eyes focused inches away from a clay tile.

Each piece is hand-painted with colorful glazes, kiln-fired then fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.

“A lot of people paint tile, but my work is different from the norm,” says Lyster, who opened her Fine Art Tile shop here four years ago. “These pieces live and breathe. I’m crazy for minute detail.”

So are her customers. Lyster’s bright, bold work is catching on. A six-foot square mural hangs in Tito Macaroni’s, a Coeur d’Alene restaurant.

Wyoming’s Grand Teton National Park commissioned Lyster to paint botanically correct wildflowers for 45 cabins. A three-year job.

The Coeur d’Alene Cultural Center, which is due to open this summer, already has about 25 larger pieces of Lyster’s work ready to display.

Lyster’s art is about to get a national audience.

It will go in showrooms and catalogues for Walker Zanger, one of the nations largest decorative tile companies.

“I’ve never, ever seen work like Gail does,” said Carlyne Tallakson, a California-based designer for Walker Zanger.

“No one uses glazes like she does. Her work is very detailed and vibrant. It stands out among all the other artists.”

Tallakson saw Lyster’s work while visiting Coeur d’Alene last year.

She was impressed enough to track her down at her second-floor studio in Sandpoint.

“I think people are fascinated by how much color happens in these pieces,” said Lyster, scooting her chair around a table so she can work under a sunbeam.

“They aren’t flat, they come alive and last forever.”

Lyster has painted life-like trout, whales, and ducks to surround bathtubs, showers and sinks.

Her eye for detail has captured pet owners who want their felines, dogs, even cows and horses forever glazed onto tile.

“The likeness is uncanny. I’ve had three cats done,” said Virginia Fair, another Californian who saw Lyster’s work while visiting Sandpoint.

Lyster doesn’t advertise, saying most of her jobs are landed by word of mouth.

“I’m not a businessy kind of girl. The pieces speak for themselves,” she said.

An eight-foot square bulldog, Sandpoint’s mascot, lies grimacing on Lyster’s studio floor, awaiting final touches.

One of her more bizarre pieces was a smashed jar of pickles installed in a pantry floor. The mess looks real enough to try to clean up.

“This kind of art is so thrilling. You never know exactly how it will turn out when it comes out of the kiln,” she said.

“There is a lot of heat and wonder in there.”

Lyster’s smaller pieces take a few days. The giant bulldog took a month to complete. Her finished pieces bring anywhere from $50 to $1,000.

When possible, Lyster works from real life. The feet and head of dead raven are perched on a cluttered desk.

A road-killed owl she scraped off the pavement is pinned to the studio wall.

“You can never get this kind of detail until you study something close up,” she said, flexing the raven’s feet in her hand and confessing she wanted to be a taxidermist.

Lyster once waded into a nearby lake to snatch a pond lily to paint.

“This is kind of gross, but when I came out I had leeches all over my legs,” she said.

“But when I paint, I want to know what kind of tree or flower it is.”

Lyster’s also done detailed portraits of people on tile. Working from photos she captured old-time ice fishermen on Lake Pend Oreille.

“It’s like you are with these guys. I know every detail right down to the laces in their boots.”

Lyster recently cranked out hundreds of tiles for a catalog company but discovered the assembly-line work wasn’t for her.

“I like creating art, not factory pieces,” she says.

“When something turns out nice I want to open the window and scream at people on the street to come up and look.”

Sometimes she does.