You know that smell at the racetrack? I’m not talking about the mint juleps in the grandstand. I mean down at the rail. It’s a mix of turned-up dirt, nervous sweat, and raw horsepower. It hangs in the air right before the gates crash open. Capturing that smell—that electricity—on a flat piece of canvas shouldn’t be possible. Most artists who try end up with a stiff, anatomical diagram that looks nice over a fireplace but makes you feel absolutely nothing.
Then there is Susan Sommer Luarca.
I first encountered her work years ago, wandering through a noisy exposition hall in Las Vegas, half-blind from neon lights and tired of looking at generic cowboy art. Then I stopped. Dead in my tracks. Hanging on a temporary wall was a painting of a thoroughbred that looked like it was about to run right over me. It wasn’t polite art. It was loud. It was fast. It was Susan Sommer Luarca.
She isn’t just a painter; she’s a force of nature in the equestrian world. As the Official Artist of the 1996 Centennial Olympic Games, she earned a title that most creatives would kill for, but her reputation goes deeper than plaques and certificates. She paints the adrenaline.
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Key Takeaways
- The Olympic Stamp: Being named the Official Artist for the 1996 Centennial Games wasn’t just a gig; it was a career-defining coronation that validated her aggressive style.
- The Medium Matches the Message: She works primarily in acrylics because they dry fast, forcing her to paint with the same speed and decisiveness as the horses she captures.
- More Than Anatomy: While her understanding of muscle structure is flawless, she prioritizes “spirit” and motion over rigid photo-realism.
- A Global Brand: She and her husband, Mario, have built an art empire that bridges the gap between high-end fine art and accessible Olympic history.
Why Does Her Work Feel So Different From Traditional Sporting Art?
Let’s be honest: a lot of horse art is boring. It’s often just a brown horse standing in a green field, looking noble. That’s fine if you want a decoration. But Susan doesn’t paint decorations. She paints events.
I’ve looked at thousands of sporting paintings, and the difference with Luarca is the vibration. Even when she paints a horse standing still, you get the sense that it’s about to explode into motion. It’s like looking at a coiled spring.
She achieves this through what I call “controlled chaos.” If you step close to one of her large canvases—and I mean nose-to-the-glass close—it looks like a mess. It’s broad slashes of color, drips of paint, and aggressive brushwork. But step back six feet? It snaps into focus. That splash of white becomes the foam on a horse’s neck. That streak of purple becomes the shadow of a muscle. She understands that the human eye is smart. She gives you the suggestion of speed, and your brain finishes the race.
How Did She Land the Gig of a Lifetime with the 1996 Olympics?
You have to remember the context of 1996. Atlanta. The Centennial Games. It was the 100th anniversary of the modern Olympics, and the pressure was immense. The International Olympic Committee (IOC) doesn’t mess around. They don’t hand out the title of “Official Artist” to someone because they’re nice. They pick someone who can carry the weight of history.
Susan didn’t just apply; she dominated.
The committee needed imagery that screamed “America” and “Victory” without being cheesy. Susan’s portfolio was the answer. She brought a specific kind of American optimism to the table. Her works for the ’96 games weren’t dark or brooding; they were vibrant, full of reds, whites, and blues that felt organic rather than forced.
I remember seeing the posters from that era. They were everywhere. She captured the three distinct equestrian disciplines—Show Jumping, Dressage, and the brutal Three-Day Event—with equal respect. She made the dressage horses look like dancers and the jumpers look like fighter jets. That versatility is rare. Usually, an artist is good at one or the other. Susan nailed all three.
What is the “Luarca Style” actually made of?
Technically speaking, how does she do it? I’ve tried painting with acrylics, and it’s a nightmare. The stuff dries before you can blend it. But that’s exactly why it works for her.
Oil paint is for people who want to contemplate. Acrylic is for people who want to attack.
Susan paints with speed. She has to. She uses the quick-drying nature of the medium to layer colors rapidly, building up a texture that feels gritty and real. She isn’t afraid of leaving the “bones” of the painting visible. You can see the energy in her strokes.
- The Motion Blur: This is her signature. She softens the edges of the horse’s legs or tail to mimic the way a camera captures speed. It tricks your brain into thinking the image is moving.
- The Unlikely Colors: Look closely at a black horse in her paintings. It’s never just black. You’ll see deep indigos, burnt oranges, maybe even a flash of teal in the highlights. She paints the light, not just the hide.
- The Lucite Factor: She sometimes paints on reverse lucite or uses transparent mediums. It adds a slick, modern depth that traditional canvas can’t match.
Where Does This Obsession Come From?
You can’t fake the knowledge of a horse. I grew up mucking stalls and hauling hay, and I can spot a “studio artist” a mile away. You know the type—they paint a horse that looks like a dog because they’ve never actually touched a fetlock.
Susan Sommer Luarca has clearly spent time in the dirt.
Her obsession feels rooted in the Midwest, in the honest, hardworking culture of the American heartland. She captures the bond between human and animal not as a fairytale, but as a working partnership. You see the strain. You see the sweat. She respects the animal too much to pretty it up. She paints them as athletes, not pets.
Why Do Collectors in Kentucky and Dubai Want Her Stuff?
I was down in Lexington a few years back, talking to a bloodstock agent—a guy who buys and sells million-dollar horses for a living. We were in his office, and behind his desk wasn’t a photo of his kids. It was a Susan Sommer Luarca original.
I asked him why. He took a sip of bourbon and said, “Because she gets it. She knows what a winner looks like.”
That’s the market appeal. Her work validates the passion of the collector. When you buy a Luarca, you aren’t just buying art; you’re buying a badge of honor that says, “I am part of this world.”
The Olympic connection helps, obviously. Owning a piece of the Centennial collection is owning a piece of sports history. It’s a legacy asset. But even without the five rings, her work holds value because it captures the timeless nature of the horse. A Luarca painting doesn’t look dated twenty years later because adrenaline doesn’t go out of style.
How Does She Handle the Business of Being an Artist?
Let’s drop the romantic “starving artist” narrative for a second. Susan is a powerhouse businesswoman. You don’t get to be an Olympic artist by being shy.
She and her husband, Mario, have turned her name into a brand. This is something I respect immensely. The art world can be snobbish about commerce, but if you want your work to be seen, you have to hustle. I’ve seen them at expos, shaking hands, signing prints, talking to fans who can only afford a poster and collectors who are buying the originals.
They treat every person with the same level of respect. That builds loyalty. I’ve seen people save up for years just to buy a limited edition print because they met Susan once and she was kind to them. That personal touch matters. It turns customers into evangelists.
What Impact Did the “Spirit of the Horse” Have on Her Career?
There is a spiritual element here that we have to talk about. I’m not a particularly religious guy, but there is something about a horse that feels ancient and heavy.
Susan taps into that archetypal energy. In her series on wild mustangs, for example, she strips away the saddles and the bridles and the Olympic crowds. It’s just the animal and the earth. These paintings feel different—rougher, dustier.
She paints the “Spirit of the Horse” not as a cliché, but as a tangible force. It’s in the eye. She paints the eye of the horse with a terrifying amount of detail. It’s often the sharpest part of the painting. It anchors you. While the rest of the body might be a blur of motion, the eye is locked on you, conscious and aware.
Why Do Her Paintings Feel So Loud?
I mentioned earlier that her paintings are “loud.” I mean that literally. When you look at her racing scenes, you can hear the thundering hooves. You can hear the snap of the jockey’s whip.
How does she do that?
It’s about composition. She rarely centers the subject perfectly. She often crops the image tightly, cutting off part of the legs or the head, which makes the horse feel like it’s bursting out of the frame. It creates a sense of claustrophobia and intensity. You feel like you’re in the pack, fighting for position.
Most artists paint the race from the perspective of the grandstand. Susan paints it from the perspective of the jockey.
What is it Like Standing in Front of an Original?
I remember visiting a gallery in California that had one of her massive 6-foot pieces. Digital images on a screen—like what you’re probably looking at now—don’t do it justice. The texture is lost.
In person, the paint has topography. It rises and falls. You can see where she dragged a palette knife through wet acrylic to create the texture of a mane. You can see where she might have used a rag to wipe away layers to reveal the light underneath.
It’s physical. You realize that painting this wasn’t a gentle process. It was a workout. She had to move her whole body to make those strokes. That physical energy transfers to the viewer. You leave the gallery feeling slightly more awake, slightly more charged up.
Does She Only Paint Thoroughbreds?
While the racing and Olympic stuff gets the headlines, I’ve seen her tackle other breeds with the same intensity.
- The Quarter Horse: She captures the explosive, zero-to-sixty power of the American Quarter Horse perfectly. It’s a different kind of muscle than a Thoroughbred—blockier, denser—and she adjusts her stroke to match.
- The Arabian: She gets the dish of the face and the flag-like tail without making it look like a cartoon.
- The Draft Horse: I saw a sketch of hers once of a heavy horse, and she nailed the weight. You could feel the gravity pulling those massive hooves into the earth.
She doesn’t just paint “a horse.” She paints the specific biomechanics of the breed in front of her.
What’s the Legacy Here?
Susan Sommer Luarca has already secured her spot in the Hall of Fame of sporting art. But what I find interesting is how she influences the new kids coming up.
Scroll through Instagram or go to a local art fair. You’ll see dozens of young artists trying to do the “Luarca Blur.” They try to copy that motion. They try to copy that vibrant palette. But they usually miss. They get the blur, but they lose the anatomy. Or they get the anatomy, but the painting feels dead.
Susan’s legacy is that she raised the bar. She proved that you can be accurate without being boring. She proved that a woman could dominate a genre that was, for a long time, an old boys’ club of oil painters.
Why Should You Care Even If You Don’t Ride?
Look, maybe you’ve never been on a horse in your life. Maybe you think the Olympics are boring. Why should you care about Susan Sommer Luarca?
Because she paints excellence.
Her subjects are athletes at the absolute peak of their physical potential, straining to do the impossible. That’s a human story. We all understand struggle. We all understand the desire to win. We all understand the beauty of a body in motion.
Her art isn’t just about horses; it’s about life. It’s about that millisecond where you give everything you have.
The Future of the Master
Artists like Susan don’t retire. They just change their pace. I expect her work to get even looser, even more abstract as time goes on. Masters tend to simplify. They realize they don’t need fifty brushstrokes when five will do.
I’ll keep watching. Every time I see a new piece from her, I get that same feeling I got in that expo hall in Vegas years ago. I stop. I look. And for a second, I can smell the dirt and hear the roar of the crowd.
If you ever get the chance to see her work in the flesh, take it. Don’t analyze it. Don’t look for the brushstrokes. just let it hit you. That’s what it’s there for.
FAQs – Susan Sommer Luarca
How did Susan Sommer Luarca become the Official Artist of the 1996 Centennial Olympic Games?
She became the Official Artist through her impressive portfolio and her ability to evoke American optimism and vitality, successfully capturing the essence of Olympic sports, including equestrian disciplines, which made her the ideal choice for the 1996 Atlanta Games.
What makes Susan Sommer Luarca’s artwork stand out compared to traditional sporting art?
Susan Sommer Luarca’s artwork stands out because it captures dynamic motion and adrenaline, emphasizing spirit and speed over rigid realism, achieved through her controlled chaos painting style and strategic composition.
What is the characteristic ‘Luarca Style’ in her paintings?
Her style involves rapid, expressive acrylic strokes, signature motion blur effects, and the use of unconventional colors to suggest movement and energy, often incorporating textured techniques like painting on reverse lucite to add depth.
Why is Susan Sommer Luarca’s work valued by collectors in places like Kentucky and Dubai?
Collectors value her work because it authentically captures the spirit of competition and victory, serving as a badge of honor that connects them to sports history and the timeless energy of the horse, making her paintings sought after worldwide.
What is the impact of Susan Sommer Luarca’s art on aspiring artists and her legacy?
Her innovative approach and success have raised the bar in sporting art, inspiring young artists to pursue accuracy combined with vitality, and cementing her legacy as a trailblazer who challenged gender norms and redefined movement in equestrian painting.
