Watercolor and Memories

I recently had the pleasure of attending an art reception for lifelong artist and educator Diane Crane at Viterbo University's art gallery. The art reception, dedicated to the celebrated watercolor artist and retired professor Diane Crane, was not just an exhibition but a heartfelt reunion of art, education, friends, and inspiration. I was one of her many students and have fond memories of sitting before a table filled with plants, which we transferred to paper with pencil and watercolor. Unlike other courses where we were to learn through trial and error, Diane walked among us, teaching everything she had learned about watercolor over the years. She freely shared her technique and suggestions as some of us fumbled with the new medium. Watercolor is undoubtedly not the easiest of mediums to learn.

My introduction to Diane and Viterbo University was her beginning drawing class. The class went outdoors to find a subject for our first assignment. I sat against a wall and drew a large, interesting tree in the courtyard. Diane approached to check on my work. She asked, "Why is there so much white space at the bottom of your drawing." I thought momentarily, reaching for an intelligent answer before replying, "I think that is the distance between me and the tree." She smiled and said, "Maybe you should sit closer to the tree." I knew I would enjoy having her as a teacher, although I didn't move closer to the tree; my spot was in the shade.

One would classify Diane as a landscape artist. Still, rather than painting extensive, distant countryside, She paints the close, intimate, and intricate world of plants. Looking at her paintings, you realize what you are missing by not closely examining something as simple as wildflowers and other plants growing along a stream, a roadside, or even in our backyard. I am amazed by the complexity of Diane's drawn and painted images. The tangled and serpentine plants curl into amazing mazes of lines and color. It's as if I'm seeing plants for the first time. Each plant has its purpose, and I like to think the plants work together to create the small ecosystem before us rather than fighting for water and sunshine. I know that sounds like artist mumbo jumbo, but I'm ok with that. There has been plenty of art that helped me see complexity and beauty within the mundane. Does an artist need to give life to such an object through their art before we realize its importance or existence? Perhaps. I've never looked closely at the plants surrounding my home or those growing along the bike trail I once rode daily. Diane's work allows us to marvel at the world we walk by daily. What else am I missing?

A stream of people constantly enveloped Diane, wishing her well and congratulating her on her show. She was beginning to look a bit overwhelmed. Along with the many workshops she has taught, Diane was a professor at Viterbo for over 25 years. I would have had to make quite the impression for her to remember me from all of those students. I was with two other former students, and we finally took a moment to chat with Diane before she moved on to another group of people who were likely former students also wanting to pay respect. There is no way she had any idea who I was. Hopefully, I will get a chance to ask her at another time when she isn't so busy.

Diane's art is shown in locations on the third floor of Viterbo's fine arts building, which students know as "the art floor." I walked the hallway, looking at her work and reminiscing about the days when Viterbo had art degrees other than art education. Bachelor's degrees in Art and Graphic Design no longer exist there. I understand why, but that doesn't mean I must like it. Besides Viterbo taking away art degrees, there was a more troubling situation. Our painting room has become a dance studio. THE NERVE! The "rug room" where we once hung out when we should have been in class was locked, which is probably a good idea; maybe students go to class now. The life-sized flayed man figure who was the muse for drawing classes at least once per semester was still there, but now he is missing fingers.

I thought of Sister Carlene Unser, everyone's favorite nun, who was the only nun I had ever heard swear. Professor Peter Fletcher, who, to borrow my 15-year-old son's terminology, was my "OPP" (I am told it means opponent or oppressor). We knew Peter's Art History classes to be the most challenging classes we would take. He supplied many scathing critiques of artwork that could leave you questioning life's choices. Looking back, I realize that he was the best teacher I have ever had, and I wish I could have told him that. Unfortunately, both of them have passed away. I hope they knew what they would mean to us.

I waved goodbye to Diane as I left; people still surrounded her, and she was clearly enjoying the night. As a former student with the privilege of learning under Diane in the '90s, attending the reception felt like a homecoming. Diane is not just a teacher but a mentor who encouraged us to explore beyond the confines of our canvas and see the beauty in our surroundings. To see that things can look better if we just get a little closer. Her work is an incredible example of a life devoted to art. Diane Crane's artwork will be displayed at Viterbo's Fine Arts Center, Third Floor Gallery, 929 Jackson St. in La Crosse, through October 30th.