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Jack Boul
October 22, 1987
To have known Bob is to know that someone very special has touched your life.
Bob D'Arista was an original, and they are rare.
His paintings and teaching had a profound influence on many people who came in contact with him.
Teaching for Bob was a privilege, an opportunity to continue a wonderful tradition. It offered a way to return some of what he had received. Students would listen to his lectures or watch his demonstrations, and be spellbound. His interests in his students went beyond the classroom. They were like an extended family to him, and he followed their growth long after they left his class.
Bob loved everything about painting. The materials, the techniques, the tradition, the history.
To hear Bob talk about painting was a religious experience.
I remember having a discussion with Bob a long time ago about the advantage of belonging to a minority group. A discussion with Bob required a lot of listening. My turn came and I made the point that being Jewish or Italian was no advantage for a kid growing up in the South Bronx. Bob disagreed, and pointed out that you learned very early that being good was not good enough. You had to be better.
He brought that awareness to his own work and instilled it in his students. The search for excellence.
Some words would upset Bob. "Fairness" was one of them. I would say, "Bob, it isn't fair," and he would explode. He believed in right and wrong and he believed in honesty and loyalty, but fairness was from a make believe world.
How right he was.
Buying art supplies with Bob was always an adventure and a learning experience. I remember the owner of one store removing a roll of imported Belgian linen from the racks after Bob mentioned that the sized linen cracked when he rolled it over his index finger. This, he explained, was due to the strength of the glue used to isolate the linen from the ground. He then proceeded to give a five minute lecture on Cennini's method for making glue from lime and cheese, speaking in Italian and English to a delighted group of clerks who had gathered. Whenever we returned to buy supplies, I noticed the owner would tremble slightly.
There are so many fine memories.
Bob could be fierce. I remember him questioning a guard at the National Gallery of Art about a Chardin painting we had come to see.
Where is the Chardin? When was it moved? Where was it moved? Are you sure? When will it be returned?
Chardin himself could not have been more concerned about the painting.
Bob came to Washington from New York where he had a very successful career. He was not given the recognition he deserved during the 24 years that he taught and painted in this city. Painters who know and own his work, as well as students and friends, are aware what a brilliant artist he was.
He is greatly admired by us; his work brings joy and inspiration.
What do you remember about a friend you shared so much with?
Someone who could charm the birds out of trees. Someone who made great personal sacrifices for his principles. Someone who knew so much about so many things.
I knew a small part of him. For me it is a happy memory, for having shared some wonderful times together.
I miss him.
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