Our art class has worked in acrylic paint for several years, but toward the end of last year, they expressed an interest in learning about watercolors. I said, “Sure, we’ll do that. It’ll build on the color theory you already know, but you’re going to have to learn to plan ahead and learn not to rush to overwork one area. Transparencies are the mark of watercolor, so leaving your painting underworked is better than overdoing it.”

I was met with silence. Then laughter. “What the heck! We’re up for it! Bring it on!”

I love this group. They’re always up for a challenge. I think they’ve bought into my philosophy we aren’t going to be perfect, but we’re always going to learn from everything we do. As a teacher, I reminded parents their children wanted to engage with the medium to learn how far they can mix the colors before the image becomes a dark gray smudge. Then they might even push it even further until it’s solidly black. If you ask a child about their story, they might say, “The family took shelter in the house, but the storm came and blew it all away.” The story would evolve as they pushed the medium to the maximum. They learned the limitations on that day and wouldn’t go as far the next day. The process, not the product, is important.

Young children aren’t ready to draw subject matter from life but prefer illustrating stories from their imagination. They use symbols, rather than attempt to construct two dimensional designs to represent three dimensional objects. Somewhere around age 11 to 14, children begin to try to construct a realistic world in their art. While their drawings at this stage display the use of value, perspective, and light, children are extremely critical of their own success. They consider their drawing only as good as the level of realism they achieve, and they’re easily frustrated. Most people quit making art works about this age, so even as adults, their “functional artistic age” is somewhere between 11 and 14.

When my mother was teaching ceramic classes at her church, she once complained to me how her students, all senior citizens, were like “spoiled children, who each needed to have their own fresh jar of glaze to paint from.”

I asked if she was putting all the new paint jars out in the workroom, or if she kept them hidden in the supply closet. You might have thought I’d just pulled the clouds back from the sun from the way her face lit up.

“Of course! I should have thought of that! I’ll just pour out the colors they need and tell them that’s how it’s going to be. They can share.”

The old masters didn’t teach their students light, dark, shading, values, perspective, color mixing, temperature, or any other aspect of the art trade until the apprentice reached around age 10 or so. The rule when I was growing up was a child had to be able to write in cursive. That rule won’t work today, but another hand-eye coordination achievement will take its place.

It takes a while for me to know a new student’s nature, so I can give them the appropriate nurture. Some of my students will go ahead and do exactly what they want to do anyway because they have to see for themselves. They have a high tolerance for “learning,” and “experimentation.” Other students need to be kept from these excesses, because they can’t stand “failures.” Some students need to creep up to the edges of failure in order to progress, since they are so fond of being in control. Gaining the confidence to let go and let the medium have its way will be a growth opportunity which watercolor offers. Other students I can leave well enough alone, and come over when I sense they’re at a struggle point. I can recognize this when they quit working or begin to sigh loudly as they push back from their work area.

I’ve actually had some grownups in art classes cry because they couldn’t master a technique on the first go around. I always expected at least one child in my kindergarten class to shed a few tears when they were first learning to cut on the fold, but didn’t “hold the fold” when it was time to cut. I can repeat this rhyme, ask them to check, and then cut, but at least one will hold the open edges, which leads to two half pieces. I always have to remind them I’ve been practicing this skill longer than they’ve been alive. One day they’ll get good at it also. Effort will pay off. The same encouragement goes for adults, though most of them are too proud to shed tears.

For our first class, belated as it was due to the recent weather and my brief hospitalization for a small blood clot at the turn of the year, we chatted about the difference between acrylic and watercolor painting. Acrylic painting is more forgiving, since we can paint over our less precise marks. We saw some Cezanne watercolor landscapes to see how a real master draws and paints.

Watercolor’s luminosity depends on the sheet on which it is painted, for its brilliance is a balance between transparent washes of pigment and the light bouncing off the bright paper back to the viewer’s eyes.  At first, Cézanne worked much as he did in his oil painting, applying the watercolor densely, filling in underlying pencil outlines, covering the paper completely, and highlighting with white gouache. Later he thinned his watercolor and laid down veils of color, incorporating blank paper for highlights. He often applied watercolor to dry, semi-absorbent paper, creating layers of crisply defined brushstrokes with ridges of pigment at their edges.

Our class, because they are used to the dense pigments of the acrylic paints, painted much like the early Cezanne gouache works. It takes a while to learn a new medium, especially one so radically different from their prior experiences. But just as it takes time to learn, it also takes time to unlearn! Ask my golf coach about changing my swing sometime. We’ll get the hang of it eventually.

After checking out the master, we then worked on mixing the secondary and tertiary colors from the primary colors from our Prang 8 Color palettes on our 140-pound watercolor paper (not sketchbook paper, which is thinner and will buckle under the slightest bit of water).

I was still on painkillers for my shingles, so my painted circle never quite closed itself. Instead, it was more of a rainbow, an image of hope after all this rain and my health troubles. My secondary colors looked like rainbow mushrooms popping up from the rainbow. The wetness of some areas bled into some of the colors, giving me the tertiary colors. I had a bit more success working the wet in wet in the blue grey cloudy sky.

One of our new students, Gail W., imagined her color wheel as a flower in a field. Tim W. focused on the colors as patterns. I had the sense I was looking at a portion of a quilt in progress. While we had the color wheel as an image, we weren’t bound to recreate a wheel.

Tim B. Always has a unique viewpoint, so his color wheel is moving through space. Mike used some pastel colors in addition to the Prang colors to experiment with the difference between them. He’s used to thick paint with his acrylics, so allowing more water to flood the surface and allow the light to bounce back through the paint will allow his painting to glow more brightly.

Gail S. finished out her wheel in good form. She has good transparency of paint and mixing of colors of the three sets of colors on the wheel. Gail typically paints with thinner washes in acrylics, so her technique in that medium passes over easily to watercolors.

As a first start, we’re on the way. Next week we’ll try a small still life. I hope to be in less pain, so I’ll have more of my brain cells available, or at least they’ll be within hailing distance. I have some great Cezanne still life watercolors to share. A still life will test our drawing skills and our painting skills both. The Victorian art critic John Ruskin said, “No good work whatever can be perfect; and the demand for perfection is always a sign of a misunderstanding of the ends of art.”

We aren’t being graded, so when I say “test,” no one ever fails. We only find out what we’ve learned and what we need to improve upon. Trust me, “we’re all going on to perfection, by the grace of God.” After all, this is a United Methodist art class. If I may quote Ruskin again, “The highest reward for a person’s toil is not what they get for it, but what they become by it.” By this he means, art changes us. Art also opens new horizons, allows us to overcome challenges, imagine new solutions, eases our stress, finds companionship, learn resilience, appreciate culture, and develop new skills. At every age, art builds confidence, teaches us compassion for ourselves and others who try new things, and helps us keep an optimistic attitude. I personally believe art keeps our inner child alive and well. May God renew you daily in joy.

Joy and Peace,

Cornelia

 

Drawing Development in Children: The Stages from 0 to 17 Years https://www.littlebigartists.com/articles/drawing-development-in-children-the-stages-from-0-to-17-years/

John Ruskin—The Stones of Venice

A Guide to Cézanne’s Mark-Making and Materials | Magazine https://www.moma.org/magazine/articles/589

Cezanne’s Watercolor Pigments.   https://cool.culturalheritage.org/coolaic/sg/bpg/annual/v14/bp14-09.html#:~:text=C%C3%A9zanne%27s%20watercolor%20technique%20allowed%20the,before%20application%20to%20the%20paper.