| Page 3 of 4 < > |
Mexico's True Colors
On our forays about town, we met members of an art league from Savannah; a teacher from Ohio who came with a friend who took cooking classes while she took drawing classes -- they were both going to take tango lessons; and an artist from Texas who was staying for a month-long workshop. A young woman who grew up in Virginia Beach and now lives in San Miguel runs a summer art camp for teenagers. A photographer who had studied with the Santa Fe Workshop, now in its sixth year offering classes in San Miguel, had returned on his own to photograph wrought iron and hacienda chapels, where the ranches' extended families and ranch hands worshiped. And the ex-husband of a friend has spent three years building a luxurious "ruin" with a studio where he lives and paints and entertains. He invited all eight of us for dinner. The male-female ratio in San Miguel is about 20 women to every man.
Communing With Painters
Our accommodations certainly didn't fit the image of the struggling artist's garret. We lived like Spanish royalty in our lavish rented casa , which was on the market for $1.2 million. In colonial fashion, all rooms faced a garden patio. There were five bedrooms with baths on three levels and a large rooftop terrace, with space for wet canvases to dry undisturbed.
 Eight Virginia-based artists traveled to the Mexican town of San Miguel, a 16th century town that draws artists from around the world intent on capturing its light, landscape and architecture. Photos
San Miguel's True ColorsEight Virginia-based artists traveled to the Mexican town of San Miguel, a 16th century town that draws artists from around the world intent on capturing its light, landscape and architecture. |
We had ample room to set up our easels on the roof and paint the steeple-studded skyline, or we could sketch the fountain in the courtyard.
Elizabeth, the villa's cook, took our shopping list to the market; Lupita, the laundress, washed every sock that hit the floor and changed the linens daily until we told her that wasn't necessary. The tariff for such luxury: $2,000 a week, or less than $300 per person.
We went to art openings, house tours, a hot spring, a ghost town and the nearby towns of Guanajuato -- a pastel-hued architectural gem and the birthplace of the painter Diego Rivera -- and Delores Hildago, devoid of physical charm but well endowed with pottery factories and the best tiles in all of Mexico.
We went club dancing and horseback riding on a sprawling hacienda. We got manicures, pedicures and massages. We enjoyed street performances of mariachi bands and traditional folk dancing.
Come nightfall, we stampeded to our bright, Talavera-tiled kitchen and the Rite of Eventide: pitchers of margaritas and deep bowls of guacamole, made from avocados and limes and served with homemade chips purchased just hours before in the market. Now came the time for art talk: Who painted where, did you like so-and-so, did you see such-and-such exhibit, who wants to go back to the springs. Someone would compliment another's work, another would offer to share a certain shade of paint.
It was a pause in the day when we got to know each other. There was talk of family, tales of the road and a second round of margaritas.
It had been a risky venture. No one on the trip knew everyone, but everyone knew someone. It could have been disastrous, but we clicked -- our glasses and as a group.
"Painting is a solitary pursuit," observed Dodson. "Balancing social activity with art is not always easy. You should choose who you travel with carefully. I am here to paint, but the camaraderie is nice."
"I am inspired by how and what other painters see," added Betsy Dalgliesh, 54, a member of our group from Earlysville, Va. "I love the challenge of going to a new place and discovering its own particular charm and then discussing that with others who have a common focus -- art -- and sharing viewpoints."
Inspirational Sights
Chartreuse. Kiwi. Salsa verde. Lightning bug. Grasshopper. Lime rickey.
