Painting With Pomona – Gone But Always Remembered

Of the some twenty years of Ranch memories running around in my head, the most spiritual, even religious experiences, are with Pomona Hallenbeck, one of the finest watercolorists – ever.  Her teaching method, particularly of how to create subtle changes in color palette, seem to mesh with the sometimes delicate, sometimes harsh, spirit of the extraordinary land of Ghost Ranch.  I am so fortunate that she has been my friend, instructor, and mentor.  I spent those years as her assistant, class support, and the one who helped students with the gear box of painting (to this day, I’m not sure what the gear box of painting really is), as well as driving the class participants about the country on field trips.

Pomona’s students often repeated workshops they had already taken.  They were devoted to her way of bringing out the best in their watercolor excursions.  When the workshops were sponsored by Elderhostel, our student participants were senior citizens who wanted to learn to paint.  Who had, in most cases, ALWAYS wanted to paint, but some teacher in his or her infinite wisdom had told them, “Don’t give up your day job.”  They came to the Ranch with their heart on their sleeve, hoping against hope that they would be able to paint, but fearing the worst.  They knew they couldn’t paint – they had been told so in their younger years.  Every year – every workshop – I assured them that they could, indeed, paint.  They simply had to put themselves into the hands of the right teacher – and, Pomona Hallenbeck was definitely the right teacher.

One of the first painting activities of each workshop was painting swatches.  Swatches are strips of watercolor paper with squares, the procedure used by her students invented by Pomona.  Pomona introduced the Ghost Ranch Palette colors.  Then came the watercolor paper with squares either drawn on it, or, printed by me for the students.  (Computers can be very effective for such projects.)  The purpose of the swatches is to allow students to create their own helps to determine hue and values of each of the Ghost Ranch colors.  After laminating the sheets of swatches, cutting them into strips of colors, and putting them on a metal shower curtain holder, they were ready to be used in the field to give the student an indication of what hue and what value was this thing the student wanted to put into a sketch and subsequent painting.  Students could hold up the swatches and match the color in the scenery to a color and value of the swatch.

I laminated the pages of swatches for the students, and telling them that “nothing is free,” I gave each of them an envelope addressed to myself that included a piece of watercolor paper that fit into the envelope.  I asked the students to paint something for me when they arrived home and mail it to me.  I have many binders filled with the small paintings completed by thoughtful students.  Proving, I think, that everyone can paint – you just have to put yourself in the hands of the right teacher.  Again, clearly, Pomona was the right teacher.

Pomona encouraged her students to follow her lead and always sketch.  Always.  We sketched at the bookstore.  At the restaurant.  At the Santuario de Chimayo.  We sketched and sketched.  The workshop supply list included a sketchbook.  Pomona often called that sketchbook a “waiting book.”  When waiting for a medical appointment – sketch.  When waiting for your dinner to cook – sketch.  When waiting for a train to clear a crossing – sketch.  Sketch!

When I started following Pomona’s advice, I was sure that my first sketchbook would never be completely filled.  To my surprise, my latest count of filled sketchbooks was forty.  Forty sketchbooks of various sizes

Eventually, although Elderhostel became a thing of the past at the Ranch, Pomona’s workshops continued, and my work and learning as assistant to Pomona did not stop.  Neither did the field trips end.  Pomona had made many contacts in the Ghost Ranch community.  She knew the people who lived there.  Proprietors of businesses.  Weavers.  Potters.  Clergy.  Like everyone at the Ranch, the people of the community loved Pomona.  One of our favorite workshops dealt entirely with the villages and churches of Northern New Mexico.  Pomona taught the watercolor.  I was privileged to teach the history of the area.  So many of our students did not know that hundreds of years of Southwest civilization preceded the “discovery” of America’s eastern seaboard and the Spanish invasion of our Southwest.  After attending this workshop, students went home with a new appreciation of our Southwest and the native people of the area, as well as having sketches of the area.

Other favorite field trips were to Los Ojos and Tierra Amarilla.  Los Ojos was the home of Tierra Wools where anyone can learn the fine art of weaving.  The entire village invites sketching – houses, businesses, post office, church.  A perfect place for a watercolor class field trip.  Across the highway and a little bit south is Tierra Amarilla, steeped in New Mexico history.  And, another perfect place for a field trip and sketching.  Pomona always took her students to these two villages.

Pomona divided her time between summers and early fall at Ghost Ranch and her home in Texas.  For years, I lived like a “bindle bunny,” in one Ghost Ranch housing location after another.  Pomona lived in a mobile home that was given to her by a friend who had used it before they settled into a larger, more permanent residence at the Ranch.  I bought her previous residence, a sixteen-foot Scamp trailer; now, I was really home.  Our abodes were parked next to each other, making it really easy for me to be of help to her.  We put up decorations.  Tiny lights.  Summer decorations in the pine trees.

In back of our trailers within ten feet was one of two arroyos that straddled the main campus of the Ranch.  It is as though the Ranch is nestled in a wishbone with the arroyos making up the long bones before they come together down the valley.  We always told our students that they were absolutely NOT to tarry while crossing through the bottom of an arroyo.  And, never, never plan a picnic in the arroyo!  If a storm occurred up stream, just like in Arizona’s slot canyons, it would take some time for the water to reach the arroyos, but reach them, it would, potentially sweeping away everything and everybody in its path.

Pomona and I were at dinner watching a really dark cloud advance on the Ranch from the Southwest.  We knew that rain was in that cloud and, if we waited much longer, we’d be drenched before we got back to the classroom for evening session.  We rushed to the classroom only to be dumped on before we got into the building.  The rain poured on the Ranch and surrounding hills and valleys.  The deluge continued for a relatively short time, thirty minutes or less, all the while that Pomona was teaching.  We did not know that water was roaring down the arroyos taking buildings, equipment, and everything else in its wake with it.  Gone were the buildings in Pot Hollow where the ceramics kilns had been located.  Pot Hollow where stained glass images created that very day were washed away.  Gone was the welding equipment where students had designed and built sculptures made of metals.  Farther down the arroyo, the building with all of the large floor looms washed away.  Gone was the duplex that housed staff; a duplex where, many times, I had stayed and taken care of the librarian’s dogs and cats while she was away.

Pomona’s car was a yellow, antique, VW Bug, with more lives than a cat.  It took her hither and yon, from New Mexico to Texas and back again.  Pieces and parts have been replaced for various reasons; including the engine—twice.  You could see it for miles. Unfortunately, the driver of a three-wheel motorcycle did not see her and to avoid a two-vehicle accident, she went off of the road.  To get the Bug fixed involved just more pieces and parts. but Pomona’s recovery took a lot longer—months.

When we were “off the clock,” Pomona and I would explore the territory.  The Plaza Blanca (White Place), the Black Place, and the Red Place – all subjects of Georgia O’Keeffe’s paintings.  Antique missions and moradas of the Penitente.  Towns and villages.  Taos, Potrero, and Chimayo with the Santuario de Chimayo.  And, of course, Santa Fe with galleries and art stores—only an hour away.

Two years before sepsis took my husband’s life, I stopped volunteering at Ranch and stayed at home to be with him.  I missed being with Pomona to assist her with her work.  I missed exploring more and more adventures of watercolor painting; watercolor – declared by many to be the most difficult of all painting experiences.  I never found that to be true.  With Pomona at the helm, learning to paint with watercolor was an exciting and dynamic experience.  As I’ve said – just put yourself in the hands of the right teacher.

Pomona loved Ghost Ranch.  She loved the communities where she was very well known.  Her passing will be deeply felt by all of those who knew and loved her.  Students.  Friends.  Co-workers.  As well as her family.  We will miss her terribly.

Be Safe and Be Well

The Cranky Crone

Thoughtful comments are appreciated.