ABSTRACT
Although the times have been infrequent because she doesn’t like to work with an audience, there have been occasions when I’ve had the chance to observe my wife in her studio in the process of painting. The thought that invariably crosses my mind is how she ever came to be able to do this thing which to me seems beyond comprehension even though I’m watching it occur and can see the technical process going on in front of my eyes. I know her art background; I know with whom she studied, in which countries she was trained, what painters most influenced her, and even many of the basic principles that guide her; but the sum total of this knowledge, except at some superficial level, does not seem to account for what emerges as she works, either in the moment-to-moment process or at any phase or stage along the way. She also teaches painting, and many of her students go on to have shows of their own—but except for rare instances her students’ work looks nothing like hers. What, then, can be said about the interface between what a painter does and teaches with regard to the role of what was initially taught during training?
