Watercolor With Life

Click image for much larger view.



Click image for much larger view.


Click image for much larger view.





I FIRST FELL IN LOVE WITH WATERCOLOR IN HIGH SCHOOL. I had one of those black metal flip open Prang watercolor sets, with the little ovals of pigment—just waiting to come alive with the addition of water. Watercolor allowed me to find translucency of color, spontaneity of application and a freedom I had never known. It was in college that I saw watercolor reemerge in the masterful hands of Edward Reep, our artist-in-residence at East Carolina University. Reep was an artist during the Second World War, and a damn good one. Check out my earlier post on Ed Reep on this blog here.

I recently discovered the work of Alvaro Castagnet, a watercolor painter from Montevideo, Uruguay who I delivers watercolor to white paper in a way I have not seen in quite some time. This man is a painter! He chooses watercolor because he innately understands the fact that only watercolor can deliver the kind of light one sees everyday. Using wet-on-wet and even a dry brush across dry paper—Castagnet has the amazing ability of interpretation. By that, I mean he is able to look at a crazy busy marketplace or city street (at night or day) and find the soul of the place. Castagnet is not interested in fussy details—things we do not see or remember anyway. He delivers the place—the moment—the essence.

See more about Alvaro Castagnet here.

With his talent, his strength, I wonder what his interpretation of say, the war in Afghanistan would be like? I wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to go there, because he would be putting his beautiful life on the line for a cause that is not his. Still, with his ability—I can see that this man could deliver to the world a view of that country—and the hell of the war—in a way that has not been seen.

It does make me wonder—where have the American war artist’s gone? Are the Ed Reep’s of the world not valued any more?

A Cabinet Card With A Little Extra

(Above) Click on image for a larger view.


HERE’S A SWEET, NICELY PAINTED CABINET CARD using watercolor over a lightly printed photograph. This was a common technique in the late 19th century, and like all art, some were better than others. This particular one, found on eBay, uses a more expressive brushstroke than many of the era.

A Memory Painting of Sing Sing Prison

(Above) As acquired, original watercolor and pen & ink drawing of Sing Sing Prison, in original frame from late 19th century.

(Above and below) Nothing makes your heart sink more than an artwork that has been against a wood backing for 100 years. You can just feel the acid burning—the pain.

(Above) The back of the framed watercolor. Ouch!


(Above) Poster from the 1932 Spencer Tracy, Betty Davis movie drama, “20,000 Years in Sing Sing.” Sing Sing and Alcatraz were the most infamous prisons of all time.

(Above) Newly framed watercolor in an acid free environment.


(Detail) Detail of inmates lined up in the Sing Sing Prison yard. (click image for larger view).


(Above) Detail... click for much larger view.


(Above) Detail. Praying for Survival... click for much larger view.

(Above) Detail... click for much larger view. Notice you can see the weather vane directions.

(Above) Detail... click for much larger view. Prisoner talks with prison guard.


ABOUT A MONTH AGO I WAS THE WINNING BIDDER ON EBAY for this beautiful anonymous watercolor and pen/ink drawing of Sing Sing Prison. Sing Sing—the original big house. Home of the electric chair—where prisoners went to spend their allotted time in hell.

This piece can be dated by the warden pictured in the drawing—I surmise his image was possibly traced from an engraving done during the period. The reason I say that is that the style of the warden’s image is different from the rest of the painting.

Warden W.R. Brown was at Sing Sing for only two years, between 1891 to 1893.

So, I thought it would be good to share this recent find with the readers of Accidental Mysteries— an opportunity to see a new item in my collection. Down the road, I plan to have this amazing piece of documentary history fully restored, but for now—it’s in a safe and archival environment.