On May 8, 2021, in the clubhouse at The Hills Swim & Tennis Club, I hung a show of 10 watercolors of flowers and leaves. (Why 10 paintings? Because there are 10 hooks on the wall.) I also posted an Artist’s Statement, a poem I wrote about the act of painting (“Nameless Colors“), and a price list. It’s so exciting to see my work hanging in public and have other people enjoy it!
Artist’s Statement
I’ve been entranced with watercolor since I was a teenager growing up in Chevy Chase, Maryland. Watercolor combines everything I love: water, of course–rivers, oceans, waterfalls; improvisation in the moment; explosive beauty; and contemplative grace.
At the age of 17, I spent a year studying painting and drawing at the Edinburgh College of Art in Edinburgh, Scotland. Forty years later, in 2018, I took up watercolors seriously, drawn to botanical subjects such as leaves, flowers and fruit. I use only six colors—a warm and a cool blue, red and yellow—and blend the colors directly on the paper. That’s what creates the vibrant “psychedelic” luminosity of the colors. My teachers are East Bay artists who specialize in watercolor, including Ilah Jarvis and Wendy Soneson.
In addition to painting and drawing, my other art form is storytelling and spoken word performance. Somehow even my supposedly inanimate still lifes are imbued with narrative. I also draw comics, combining words and images to tell a story and convey a feeling. But some stories exceed the capacity of words, and that’s where watercolor comes in.
As a performer, I use improv to create stories in the moment, a skill that I also use in the uncontrollable medium of watercolors. Through practice and patience I’ve learned to say “yes” to whatever the paint and water want to create. This state of mind leads to discoveries and delight!
Nameless Colors
by Ruth Halpern
More and more These days I stretch my brush towards Colors That have no name Craving the pulse of burnt umber Into alizarin crimson, Into sap green, The nameless tint welling up At the margin between That and this. The old magic-woman in a Russian folktale commands, “Go I know not whither, to fetch I know not what.” It's a fool’s errand, like Capturing a moment with a paintbrush and a swash of pigment-- I’ll never get there Without a magical helper. Nevertheless, I embark. In just this way, my faith stretches out its brush Tip trembling Towards the nameless presence, Straining to dip into The heart Of mystery And feel it bloom.