Part I

In the summers I would obsessively study art. It was the summer of junior year when my mother gifted me Richard Schmid’s book, Alla Prima - Everything I know about painting. I dove into this book, studying it in the way I would a math text. In many ways it read like a math text, it was clear, logical and offered tangible solutions to a world that was cloaked in such mystery. Instead of saying that a painting was missing ‘feeling’ or similar flowery words that were hard to pin down, he spoke of color temperature, and range of edges to convincingly portray form. This book fundamentally changed how I saw the world, and opened my eyes to how to observe light … it was such the perfect compliment to the details I was learning about light in my physics classes.

I never thought I would have the opportunity to meet Richard, let alone study from him. He was a mythical character of sorts. He didn’t accept students, and he was rumored to be living quietly in the country somewhere in Vermont painting. (Shown here is my well-loved original Alla Prima book with all my notes and book outline circa 2004.)

As graduation day was drawing near, I gave a lot of thought to accepting the scholarships that were offered to me and had the choice of joining two different teams. Around that time in 2004, air currents surrounding airplanes and jets at the microscopic level were largely dismissed and not considered to effect the aircraft’s performance. However, there were studies developing showing that these small variables were indeed contributing to the overall performance more than was initially thought. The first team I was invited to join was working on developing equations to describe these air currents at the microscopic level. The second team, I was less excited about, as they were studying the air flow in rooms and spaces, such as those found in office buildings to see how disease particulates travel. At that time, I had no interest in learning about such things … fast forward to 2020, I now have a greater appreciation for this kind of study. I could never have imagined how crucial this type of study would be. However, ultimately I didn’t choose a team, even though studying air flow around airplanes sounded very intriguing. I ultimately thanked my professors for such generous offers, and instead told them I wanted to pursue painting. They all laughed at me, not realizing how serious I truly was, and asked if I even knew how to draw. I remember replying to them with, ‘well … I just went through 4 years of rigorous equation analysis, I think I can figure it out.’ Both were shocked, and thought that I may need just a bit of rest, and told me they would give me a year to think about it and that I could come back if I changed my mind. It was a very generous offer. However, I never returned formally to engineering study, and instead dove into the deep end of not only learning how to paint, but turning it into my career. Looking back, I perhaps may not recommend this all-in approach, but one thing youth has on its side is unwavering trust and belief things will work out. As luck would have it, I ended up not only meeting Richard Schmid later that fall, but was invited to join his painting group, The Putney Painters. Over time, I became his student and technical assistant. I first helped him with his book, The Landscapes by scanning all of the images and assisting in color corrections in preparations for press day.

These were formative years. I spent the first 6 years coming prepared with questions, things I was working on, concepts I didn’t quite understand, objects Richard might want to include in his still life so I could see how he would simplify it down into manageable brushstrokes. I documented everything and wrote down what I was learning. It is in my nature to document things and write them down, it’s how I understand and grasp concepts, and what I did all through engineering school. Richard thought my questions might be other’s questions, and I was building a wonderful library of step-by-step demonstrations from our times together, and so the online series, ‘Learning with Richard Schmid’ was created. Each month I would compose a lesson with in-depth analysis on a certain painting topic, and include one of Richard’s demonstrations. Before each lesson went out, we went over each lesson with a fine-tooth comb. Richard would add any insights and clarifications wherever he deemed necessary. This was an incredible experience I will always cherish.

Shortly after Richard’s Landscape book was released, his Alla Prima book was due for another reprint. At this time, the printing technology was changing over to digital and Richard needed to digitize this book in order to print it again. It was a full-circle moment the day he called me up and asked if I would help him. He went on to explain that since he was needing to go through the book anyway, he felt it was a good time to expand the book and add some new insights he gained since he first wrote it. I remember shaking on the phone in disbelief as he was explaining the process to me. I not only was going to go through the entire book with him, page by page, but he wanted me to share any thoughts I had for places he could add more clarity if I felt it would be helpful. I knew the book so well after reading it so many times and taking copious amounts of notes on it, I felt well prepared to accept the honor. We spent the better part of a year and a half preparing the expanded edition. It was a wonderful celebration when we finally arrived for press week!

To be continued…