There is an absurdity to making small gouache copies of extremely large, well known oil paintings. I enjoy it. It feels like the difference between gazing through a window at delicious cakes compared to going inside to taste one. It’s not the same as painting in a gallery before the original, or groping through the uncertain dark alleys of one’s own work. It involves a deeper involvement than just looking nonetheless, traveling hand in distant hand with a great artist. It is like playing a piece of 18th century sheet music or reading a poem out loud. It compresses time.
ABOVE: Goya’s Third of May, 1808, section, gouache copy, 5.5 x 7.25 in (13.97 x 18.42 cm), 10/24/2008
Bonnard’s The Window, 1925, gouache copy, 7.25 x 5.5 in (18.42 x 13.97 cm), 10/24/2008