I'm not particularly fond of old-fashioned type, are you? Don't you just hate people who use upper-case Old English type and christen their retail outlets "Ye Olde Pet Shoppe"? It's as if they equate age with wisdom in retailing, hoping perhaps to con us into thinking their establishment has some magic quality left over from some by-gone era; an era of hand-made quality, where artisans had integrity and time to produce items which stood the test of time. They may have a point however, as marketing research has shown a distinct link between our sub-consious feelings about the past and our unease with modern mass-produced goods.
As a painter in watercolour, I find I'm naturally drawn to subject matter which has a patina of age about it. This was brought home to me recently when my wife and I were sorting stuff out in readiness for a move to our little summer hideaway. We unearthed three David Winter cottages and decided to put them out on display again.
Looking at them closely I was impressed again by the sheer detail of these charming ceramic pieces. I got to thinking how odd it is that we like replicas of such old buildings, and how we would hate living in such places! They would be drafty, cold, damp, probably infested with insects and mice, and lacking the modern amenities most of us need these days.
And yet....how many of you would pass up the chance to set up your easel and paint away if you saw such a building in reality? Why do I prefer tumbled-down old barns instead of bright shiny new ones? What draws me to an aging farm house and not a new sub-division house? I'm not sure I have an answer. One of my favourite painters is Vermeer, and as I admire his draftsmanship, his colour and subject matter, I realize he was painting contemporary subjects; contemporary for him of course.
Look again at "The Street", a view of Amsterdam, or "The Studio" in Vienna. We look back on these paintings as classics; paintings from another era. But to Vermeer these were contemporary people of his time, and he was trying to make a living from such paintings. Now fast forward several centuries and ask why we painters in watercolour today are not painting people in Starbucks, McDonalds or the average shopping mall? I wonder why we rarely see paintings of modern farms and farm buildings, and why is it that the only tractor I'm interested in is a rusting relic amid the weeds and old tires?
During the 1950s and 1960s I was a graphic artist, and I was involved in depicting what were then modern buildings. One of my accounts was a major sub-division builder of new bungalows in Calgary, Alberta. I used to create illustrations from blueprints to attract would-be buyers, and my flights of fancy knew no bounds. My buildings soared and stretched, with picture windows filled with drapes and potted plants. My gardens were lush, surrounded by mature trees and rolling lawns. In reality these modest bungalows were set in what was bald-headed prairie, with a few wind-blown shrubs and not a tree in sight. But I did this for a living. When I painted for pleasure I sought out other subjects, and invariably they had the patina of age upon them.
In a recent exhibition of watercolours I noted the relatively limited subject matter. The usual collection of flower paintings, some buildings with flowers around them, a child's portrait, an old doorway somewhere, a few landscapes, and one strikingly modern painting of a bicycle padlocked to a post, casting dramatic late-afternoon shadows. I suppose one paints what will sell, and I suppose flower paintings are popular, but I would urge all you beginners out there to widen your horizons.
Look around you for the cultural touchstones so common we probably never see them. Take your sketchbook and camera into a shopping mall and look at the men sitting outside stores waiting for their wives. Check out the local bus-stop to see who's lining up and what they are carrying. See how children dress as they gather for school, and don't forget the local gas/petrol station as a modern icon. I know, I know - figures are so difficult to draw, whereas a rusty old tractor surrounded by lilac bushes and used tires is easier. Think Vermeer - think interiors, dramatic lighting, unusual perspective, city streets and river traffic. Don't forget that Starbucks, McDonalds and Tim Hortons will be historic one day.
Oh yes - let me know how you make out?
John Fisher
