“Why does anyone buy Naples Yellow when you can make it?”

I heard Wilber Blair complain about this nearly every painting class for years and I smile every time I mix “Naples Yellow” in my studio now…

Quiet in demeanor. Soft spoken. Deep voice. Thin, and wiry. The wheels were always turning. Will could jump into any classroom conversation with an intellect that gave you pause. Then suddenly he was off and at a student’s side since he was always aware of who was doing what…

Just a few days ago and in my recent blog post I mentioned Wilber Blair. Artist, teacher, mentor and friend. The last post I wrote included a thank you to Wilber since I owe so much artistically to him. Weighing on my mind apparently since we hadn’t been in touch since my two- artist show at Artistree Community Art Center. Time is a curious thing, and it passes quickly. Too quickly. He was very proud of what I had created for the exhibit. I rest with that knowledge…

Yes, he has been on my mind. Thoughts of contacting Will since the election had crossed my mind on several occasions since we often spoke in detail about politics. Painting in his class years ago often included a deep interest in sharing political perspectives. From politics to literature kindred, we were. I kept meaning to email Will but just hadn’t found my way to the keys.

I decided to Google Will the day after I posted my blog. I wanted to spend some time looking at his exquisite paintings while I sipped on my first cup of the day. Inspiring work. I was eager and couldn’t wait to reacquaint myself with his creative world.

 A series I found of particular of interest centered around his early childhood and time spent in the hospital. A lengthy visit which was pivotal. The young Will was portrayed in a youthful and vulnerable way with stunning compositional surroundings. Thought provoking. Exceptionally composed and executed. A painter with an intellectual delicacy that was unique to him.

To watch Will paint during a demo was a visual feast. Aspiring to wield a brush as organically and lightly as Wilber did. A simple stroke told a story all on its own. I have yet to see another artist paint like him. I felt fortunate to observe him. I understood that I was witnessing someone extraordinary…

Oil vs acrylic. Room for both while leaning harder toward acrylics. Versatility. Play. Will and I would talk shop. Really talk shop. I thrived on it. I am the acrylic painter I am because of Will. He taught me how to make acrylic look like oil.

The colors I would mix because of the lessons he instructed. He had no tolerance for employing paint directly out of the tube. Color was to be unique. I have made my art students do the same. The challenges he put in front of me. Demanding me to work harder and bolder.

I remember one of the first exercises I did in his class was to create a series of unique colors on a grid. Small squares must be filled with newly created paint colors. No duplication of color while also being aware of all the colors in juxtaposition. An incredible lesson in understanding how to use color on a canvas. Where and how it will appear. The influences of color. Nothing in a painting works independently. Changing color in one area will surely impact the rest. Delicious…

Google Will I did. Shocked I was. Instead of colorful compositions popping up at 5:30 am his obituary was the first, second and third result. Placing my coffee cup down as tears welled up, I opened the first link. The funeral home site…

I couldn’t believe it. I must have found another Wilber Blair who had passed. Yet there it was. His life before me was now past tense. Wife and daughter listed. The town where he and Jane lived for the many years. His age. It all unfortunately checked out. Reality choked me. My throat closing tighter and tighter as I reviewed his information. Not his art this morning but his obit.

Sudden it was. Just a Sunday. No illness. One minute he was here and then not. Grateful he had not suffered but devastated that he was gone. There is decidedly a lot less color in this challenging and uncertain world now…

A teacher at Monseratt Art School and Danforth Museum where I met Will. Generous with his talent and his knowledge. A teacher and mentor.  Each week art books from the obscure to the mainstream. He always had his students in mind.  An education that I have brought into my own art classes.

Well-read. Well studied. A treasure trove of information. Will was a treasure. Mostly importantly, Wilber Blair was truly an artist…

Wilber would remind me when he saw me painting doubt on my canvas to stay true to who I was as an artist. He would stop and look at me while entering a sincere dialogue about the importance of his words. I will continue to let his voice posthumously whisper those same words to me when I most certainly struggle with artistic confidence again…

“The delicate balance of mentoring someone is not creating them in your own image but giving them the opportunity to create themselves”. –Steven Spielberg