When I first started to learn to oil paint, my Grandmother would occasionally see some of the paintings I made. And she liked them. She liked them enough that she decided she had to have some of them.
In my family, what Grandma wants, Grandma gets. At least back then.
You see, I was somehow raised that Grandma was always right and you should always listen to her. And when Grandma wanted a couple of my paintings, and I was not that keen on just giving away paintings I had worked hard on, my mother told me…
“She’s your grandmother, let her have them.”
My grandmother lived in a small apartment in Brooklyn NY, right near Coney Island. My Grandparents were not a very social couple. Meaning they didn’t have lots of friends, they never did things like go out to eat with friends, nobody ever really stopped by the house for lunch, dinner, or even to have coffee.
In fact, picture a less social version of George Costanza’s parents from “Seinfeld” and you will have an accurate picture.
These were the stereotypical – growing up near the train tracks – Jewish grandparents, from Brooklyn New York.
Now although my Grandparents lived in a small 2 bedroom housing development, she thought of her 2 bedroom apartment like a museum. She wanted it decorated a certain way and she suddenly had found a new way to accomplish her goal.
Me and my paintings.
In trying to convince me to give her the paintings she would say things like…
“I’ll frame them and hang them up on my wall. Maybe someone will see them and want to buy them.”
I thought to myself, “Who’s going to see them? I don’t think you’ve had anyone over the apartment in 10 years except mom and me.”
But, like I said, grandma always wins so I gave in and gave her a couple of paintings, which to her credit, she had framed and hung them in her apartment in prominent spots.
Well, one day when I was visiting with the family, I happened to have a book on paintings that I took with me to read in the car during the trip to Grandma’s. During my visit, grandma started flipping through the book and grandma decided she needed another painting.
She knew the colors she wanted and decided to flip through my book until she found what she wanted. I knew what was coming and tried to dissuade her and gently stop her from flipping through the book and take it away. But, I was too late.
She had found it.
The perfect painting that matched the image she had in her mind.
And this is the painting you see here.
She had no idea that it is a famous painting, painted by one of the worlds greatest painters. She liked the subject matter and the colors.
“Look how beautiful. A little girl with a pretty pink dress. Can you paint this for me?” She asked.
I think I replied with a snort, not wanting to do it.
Then the persuading tactics began…”It’ll be easy for you. You can do it fast. You’re so good it won’t be hard.”
It was interesting that she was appealing to my ego. After all, all my life I was called an “idiot or a schmuck” by my grandparents. Again, think George Costanza’s parents.
Now, all of a sudden, I was so talented I could replicate a Velasquez painting “no problem”
Well, after protesting, who do you think won out? Remember, back then it was “What grandma wants, grandma gets”
So I went home, and did NOT get to work on the painting.
I put it off and put it off, and my grandmother would call me and ask me on the phone…”Are you working on my painting?”
“Not yet” I would reply.
This would go on for about a week and then a new tactic entered the picture…
…Guilt!
It’s true…jewish women know how to give guilt like no other.
The phone calls would now be…
“Are you working on the painting?”
my reply: “not yet”
But now, I had to contend with this followup…
“You know, you said you were going to do it. It’s not right. You promised me and you’re not doing it. After everything I do for you, you can’t do this one small thing for me. I thought you cared about me more than that…”
“Ok ok I’ll paint it” I replied. Anything so she would leave me alone with that nonsense.
So I set about starting to paint this painting.
I didn’t even want to look at the image. I was so disgusted that I was forced into painting this. I would squeeze the paint onto my palette grumbling to myself…
…”Everything I do for you…like what? Call me an idiot my entire life? Make some matzoh balls during passover?”
Anyway, I started to paint this picture against my will, but something happened while I was painting it.
The painting just kind of took off.. Every stroke I made was the right one. There was no erasing parts, and correcting parts…everything just worked right from the start.
It was almost as if a point was being made that grandma was right. It would in fact be easy for me.
The painting was painted without much medium at all so it has not yellowed. It is around 20 years old and looks as fresh as when I finished painting it.
Here are some more detail images from the painting…
I must say, I have always had a very special place in my heart for this painting because of how it came to be.
What started out as the painting I didn’t want to make, became a little jewel that holds a special place for me.
When it was finished, my grandmother loved it. It was better than she had hoped. She had it framed and placed it in her “forbidden” living room.
You know, the room where nobody was allowed to go in.
For some reason, the living room was off limits. If anyone ventured in there, she would follow them in and chase them out shouting ” Get outta here, you’ll make the room dirty”.
So, when I would visit, even I had a hard time seeing my own painting without being chased out of the forbidden living room where it hung for years.
My Grandmother died a few years ago so I now have all the paintings I did for her, except for the couple that have sold.
Now, you can learn the exact procedures I used to create this and my other paintings. Including how to begin, how to layer paint with an underpainting, all about choosing the best medium for you and more.
And you can do it all right from your own home with my home study course, The Insider Guide to the Secrets of Oil Painting.
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I loved your story on grandma and your paintings. My mother has always painted –no lessons,and can copy anything. She has a living room that we call the museum.All her art is displayed there and they are like family members.She is 87,so there are a lot of them.What will we ever do with them? I find myself collecting art from estate sales to rescue them,now my house is taking on the same look.
I felt like I was actually watching an episode of Seinfeld reading your story about your grandma. I am not Jewish but I am from NY (I now live in Arizona) and I have so many Jewish friends who grew up in Brooklyn that I felt like I was with one of them when reading your story. I loved it.