Although I am back in the cool, gray North Country, the vivid explosions of color in San Antonio remain on my mind. After returning from San Antonio and then plunging right back in to long and busy work days, all I could pretty much manage was catching up on sleep and doing laundry. But now that I'm recovered, I feel the need to process my experience on the canvas. 

As I mentioned in my last post, I spent some formative years in San Antonio. A lot of it is a blur that I think my dear brain has blocked out. But what I do remember vividly are the art education experiences that, on pain of sounding clichéd, were life-changing. 

In particular, through an art contest that I entered with other kids from my high school art class, I won a scholarship to the Western Art Experience, which was somehow involved with the San Antonio Rodeo and the Museum of Western Art. I spent two weeks during the summer in Kerrville, Texas, and was introduced to oil painting and sculpture — a week of each. We also got to visit a foundry and the studios of famous artists, one of whom I think was wildlife artist Ken Carlson. One day, I told myself, I would have as nice a studio as theirs. When my ship comes in, everyone is welcome to visit!

Now, looking back at what I did during that two weeks, I'm kind of amazed, and a little frustrated, too, because it feels like I had tremendous beginner's luck, and then spend years bumbling around trying to recreate it. Sigh ... But think of that — one week of oil painting, and I've been hooked ever since. And even odder, to have the  Western art connection: a summer camp at a museum dedicated to living artists who follow in the tradition of Frederic Remington, and now, to live in an obscure corner of New York that is home to the Frederic Remington Art Museum!  

I was obviously very excited about finding the Southwest School of Art, where I had taken a class. All I remember is painting with lipstick. Very modern ... I was also very excited that the awesome art store I frequented, Herweck's, is still there. So. Many. Art. Supplies. 

Another wonderful haven I remember is the McNay Art Museum. This little gem has an impressive collection, thanks to Jessie Marion Koogler McNay and her patronage off the arts. On the last day of my conference, I cut out on the closing ceremonies and took a taxi to the McNay, which looked eerily different yet familiar. It even smelled the same, even though I couldn't tell you what it smells like now, only that as soon as I walked in I remembered it.

Pieces from the McNay. (Click for more info.)

Some contemporary pieces. 

And this Cadmus, whom I'm not really into, but I liked the blurb: What I Believe, Tempera on panel, 1947-48

Paul Cadmus presents the arts as beacons of good against the violence of war. The painting's title was taken from English Humanist E. M. Forster's 1938 essay "What I believe," which called for goodness and tolerance to prevail over violence and cruelty. In the foreground, Cadmus used the faces of his friends and family, artists in their own rights, as allegorical figures representing art, music, literature, and architecture.

I'm currently working on a piece that recalls the finery of Fiesta, but frustratingly, it is on hold while life and work intervene. But I will make that the focus of my next post. For now, all you need to know is that it's painted on shimmery gold so the Fiesta Flair will shine through! 

As I write, Fiesta is concluding its final weekend in San Antonio, Texas. I was lucky enough to be there last week when it began, and although I have not fully recovered from the breakneck pace of my whirlwind trip, I have digested it enough to be able to articulate some takeaways.

First of all, what is Fiesta? It’s basically a 10-day, citywide party that feels a bit like Mardi Gras. And the editors conference I was attending just happened to occur at the start of it. Coincidence? We’ll never know, but I will say that some of those editors can really let loose.

I actually attended my last three years of high school in San Antonio when my family was stationed there 20 years ago. Which is just so weird, because that means I’m pushing 40 … Anyway, I set my mind to make the most of my time there, frolicking around old stomping grounds and painting when I wasn’t attending the conference sessions.  

My thumb pochade from art_lifehack was perfect for this trip. I modified the palette with a piece of Plexiglas that folds out for extra mixing space, and I was pleased with how it worked. I could pack everything into a small backpack and go!

The Go Bag! Clockwise from top: Thumb pochade; brush carrier from Prolific Painter; paints with manufacturer's safety form for TSA; rags (old T-shirt pieces); tape and palette cup; and panel carriers, bottom by Prolific Painter and top by Masterpiece.

Sunrise on the Riverwalk turned out to be the best time for painting and enjoying the beauty. Pretty much only joggers and walkers were out, but they didn’t talk to me much, except to give encouragement. It was also blissfully empty and cool, much cooler than I remembered it ever being down there. I started a 6” x 8” of the Selena Bridge the first morning, but then lost the light, so came back the next morning to finish it up. After the sun rose, I turned around and painted in the opposite direction, but couldn’t finish it, because — like a noob — I ran out of white and had forgotten the tube in my room. Oh well.

Bright and early — ew. End of Day 1 (middle) and Day 2 (right).

Friday after the sessions, I wandered around downtown and settled upon a street scene at the edge of the San Fernando Cathedral square. It wasn’t too busy, but wouldn’t you know it — the Crowning of the Fiesta King was in full swing by the time I packed up. Here I was stretched by many more interactions with people. Even though I was sitting sort of behind a sign and some bushes, I was still visible, and people were not shy in coming over. I was also kept company the entire time by a gentle-natured man who was perhaps experiencing homelessness. Painting is a perfect excuse to focus and not fully engage in conversation! But he didn’t seem to mind, and I felt a deep sense of camaraderie by the time I was done.

Off the cathedral square. 4" x 6"

I learned the most from the last piece I did during one of my lunch breaks. My room was at the end of the hallway on the seventh floor, right next to a full-length window overlooking a slice of the Riverwalk. I only had an hour, so any time I started fussing with details, I reminded myself to keep moving (out loud, which scared the hospitality woman). I had been looking at some of the pieces by Pete the Street from London the night before. He sketches big shapes of thin color, then sort of draws details over them. I tried that as best I could, and even though I ran out of time to put the cars in, I was fairly pleased with the results.

Lurking from on high ... 6" x 8"

While I packed my paint tubes in my checked luggage on the way down, I took a chance and carried them with me on the way back — and no problem. A five-hour layover in Dulles gave me time to do one more piece, an 8” x 10”. Again, positive interactions with people, but also, again, nice to have the excuse of needing to focus.

Next post, I’ll share a bit about my formative years there and the impact they had on my art. And, more about Fiesta, of course! Oh there was reveling … Viva! 

What is going on here ... ?