We stayed in a small town for a year. I had to do a lot of adjustment as the school syllabus was very different. On the positive side was a drawing class that took place once a week. My old school did not have any.
A new drawing teacher joined the school late. He wore very thick eyeglasses. He was middle-aged and was very reticent. he made us do free-hand drawing and then gave a design which had to be filled with water colours on the weekend and brought to the next class.
The work intrigued me. Mixing colours, applying them on paper was very exciting but the work left me exhausted. I was clumsy.
Few students had completed this beautiful assignment. The teacher gazed at my painting for a long time and said, "You have applied colour very thickly as if it were oil paint. Also you have used yellow and black close to each other. That is not done."
The painting that he held out before the class was that of a boy who had used very pale colours. It did not impress me one bit. I also did not understand Sir's logic.
I have started dabbling a little in painting now and it has taken me a year to understand the flow and beauty of water colours. I realize now that water colours must be transparent, lightly applied and allowed to run. Every time I look at some water colour painting, I remember my teacher.
On Teachers' day, I remember him but not many other teachers.
He left the school before the year was over. He did not talk much. From his demeanor I inferred straightened conditions at home. How much did art-teachers get in those days? Getting a permanent job and supporting a family must have been difficult.
Looking back, I feel he understood the mystery of art and did his best to initiate us raw yokels into it. I do not remember his name. I have no means to trace him but he has left an indelible mark on me.
A new drawing teacher joined the school late. He wore very thick eyeglasses. He was middle-aged and was very reticent. he made us do free-hand drawing and then gave a design which had to be filled with water colours on the weekend and brought to the next class.
The work intrigued me. Mixing colours, applying them on paper was very exciting but the work left me exhausted. I was clumsy.
Few students had completed this beautiful assignment. The teacher gazed at my painting for a long time and said, "You have applied colour very thickly as if it were oil paint. Also you have used yellow and black close to each other. That is not done."
The painting that he held out before the class was that of a boy who had used very pale colours. It did not impress me one bit. I also did not understand Sir's logic.
I have started dabbling a little in painting now and it has taken me a year to understand the flow and beauty of water colours. I realize now that water colours must be transparent, lightly applied and allowed to run. Every time I look at some water colour painting, I remember my teacher.
On Teachers' day, I remember him but not many other teachers.
He left the school before the year was over. He did not talk much. From his demeanor I inferred straightened conditions at home. How much did art-teachers get in those days? Getting a permanent job and supporting a family must have been difficult.
Looking back, I feel he understood the mystery of art and did his best to initiate us raw yokels into it. I do not remember his name. I have no means to trace him but he has left an indelible mark on me.
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