My father enjoyed venturing an opinion in tones of mock-Victorian high purpose, and I remember him once going off, during a show at the Society of Illustrators, about the difference between working in oil and working in watercolor. An oil painting could be created over a long period of time; could be treated like a stage set; could accommodate second opinions and be revised. In some ways, it was like a movie. A watercolor was a performance, created in the moment: paper wet, vision fresh. “You can’t lie with watercolor,” my father explained. He was himself an artist and illustrator, and watercolor was the medium he liked best.
That moment from decades ago came to mind recently as I took in the vibrant work of Adam Van Doren at the Childs Gallery, in Boston—watercolor paintings of this city of brick and autumn, where I’ve lived for many years.
