Himmelblau und Morgenrot

How do you describe the color of the sky?

This summer my creative focus has been on color study, observing and learning descriptors, qualities and names. Many of the techniques were based off of a wonderful older book titled Watercolor Technique by watercolorist Rex Brandt. The introduction provided such an accurate and beautiful description of painting in the medium that I knew this was a man to learn from.

I ordered a copy of this man’s writings for my personal library simply because of this one quote.

The artist’s feelings and thoughts cannot be readjusted, buried or hidden. (Rex Brandt)

Paper and water carry the painter’s emotion through the tiniest bit of pigment. Yet the choice of pigment matters.

These included studies in color, transparency, layers and value. I played in washes and observations. I visited museums and spent time outdoors soaking in hues throughout the day.

Versions of color studies can be seen within the newly opened Bauhaus Museum in Weimar. People love a color wheel. My appreciation for color studies began last summer with a visit to the Cooper Hewitt’s exhibition, “Saturation:The Allure of Science and Color”. (Also, reason number 1000 why I believe education should be pursuing STEAM and not STEM programing.)

As Fall approaches, I will be revisiting my summer explorations.

My sky studies were my favorite portion of this summer color study. I’m thinking of sharing these studies through a type of watercolor challenge series on Instagram, because they were so fun.

Which leaves me with how do you describe the color of the sky?

I’m still not sure I can describe the color accurately by pigment color. You?

der Brombeermann

I grew up with folklore and fairy tales. 

A Brombeermann is the symbol figure of the town of Wanfried, Germany. Some say this dates back to August 30, 1608 when Wanfried became a "city". A stipulation for city status perhaps included a provision for Moritz der Gelehrte - The deliverance of blackberries in the mornings to his Schloß in Eschwege when he was in residence.

Another version includes a beautiful story.

I am reminded of mythology as I read it. You can find it in a book written by Wilhelm Pippart, first printed in 1939, titled der Brombeermann. Wilhelm Pippart was a teacher and to me his writing is delightful to read. Maybe because his writing reminds me of the manner in which I was told and read fairy tales, with vivid detail and on occasion rhyme.

In the introduction Wilhelm Pippart is referred to as a Heimatdichter. In English, a "regional writer" but the German word Heimatdichter denotes more a person who drafts prose, poetry and collects stories of heimat. The book is a collection of tales and poems featuring characters such as sprites, fairies, gray ladies and magical books set in woods filled with moss, waterfalls and flowering fields. 

Here is my brief and loose retelling in English:

A dwarf was watching over Frau Holle's jewels. (Her most favorite of the dwarves.) He was most intrigued by her pearl and diamond necklace. As he was playing with this magical strand, it caught upon a rosebush and broke. But where each pearl and diamond rolled - strawberries, raspberries, currants, blueberry and blackberry bushes sprouted. Blackberries in the greatest abundance. A spell had been cast.

The only way to turn them back into their original form was to gather them all by day's end and before the owl was heard. The dwarf quickly accepted this quest to make amends for his mistake. Frau Holle encouraging him to not lose courage and to arm himself with patience and endurance as he set out.

Quickly he set out upon his way, taking a cane basket upon his back to fill. He sprinted from bush to bush claiming the berries as his basket became heavier and heavier upon his back. Then at the end of the day. As dusk approached, every berry was in the basket except for one last full blackberry which remained. As he reached to pluck it from its height, the sun set and the owl was heard. Immediately the basket which had been full emptied.

This repeated itself day after day. The dwarf became ancient. Moss grew in his hat and throughout his knee length beard. His clothes became worn and tattered. The only thing which remind new was the basket he carried upon his back. 

Each day the dwarf kept his courage and went about his task only to be baffled by day's end. Throughout this time, berries fill the land, mimicing the reflective jewel tones found within the magical necklace.  

After a thousand years had passed, Frau Holle returned to the dwarf, now known as der Brombeermann- the blackberry man. Sharing his burden, she reached and picked the last berry before the owl's voice was heard. Immediately a ray of jewel like colors radiated from the basket, covering the land. Her necklace was returned to its original state. They say you could hear elves burst forth in song in celebration of the Brombermann.

It is now said that the people of Wanfried take upon themselves the diligence and perserverance of the Brombeermann. I suppose I love the story so much because it is a piece of home to me.

I'm sure many versions of this tale exist. This year, I had the opportunity to see and hear a portion set to music. A childhood friend composed a beautiful piece. It is written in the old dialect of Wanfried and was sung this year in the Evangeliche Kirche of Wanfried. Enjoy!