Although visitors to the Hammertown Exhibition have responded positively to all the paintings hanging on the walls, it is the painting of the silver bowl with the watermelon radishes that really gets their attention. The bright pink of the watermelon radishes intrigues them. They ask me what exactly those objects are: “They look like radishes on the outside but like figs on the inside.” The reflections on all of the bowl’s surfaces capture them. They describe being able to imagine the ping they could make if they flicked their fingernail against the side of the bowl. And then there are the stories people create as they look at the painting. My favorite one started with: “And whom did you go off with when you dropped all you were doing, and stopped making the salad you were going to put into the bowl?”
The bowl that stars in this painting was my father’s bowl. The International Silver Company gave it to Wildor “Jeff” Ouellette after twenty-five years of service (he went on to work for them for another fifteen years). My father had wanted to be an artist but life didn’t give him room for his art. He was one of seven children who grew up in a New England mill town and was sent to work too hard when much too young. He was an infantry soldier in World War II in the Battle of the Bulge. He gave his hours, beginning very early in the day, to enable his children whom he loved unconditionally to do better than he had. Although he did some pretty remarkable projects in our homes, he never had the time needed to do the art he desired. I am thankful that I can paint his bowl. I am convinced his generous and romantic spirit helps draw people to the work.
The bowl that stars in this painting was my father’s bowl. The International Silver Company gave it to Wildor “Jeff” Ouellette after twenty-five years of service (he went on to work for them for another fifteen years). My father had wanted to be an artist but life didn’t give him room for his art. He was one of seven children who grew up in a New England mill town and was sent to work too hard when much too young. He was an infantry soldier in World War II in the Battle of the Bulge. He gave his hours, beginning very early in the day, to enable his children whom he loved unconditionally to do better than he had. Although he did some pretty remarkable projects in our homes, he never had the time needed to do the art he desired. I am thankful that I can paint his bowl. I am convinced his generous and romantic spirit helps draw people to the work.
