A Passion for Art by Jenny M. Duggan Jackson
The View of Venice - William James Venice is in the distance. The sea is calm. A tiny ripple forms on the surface of the pale blue water, visible only if one looks closely. In the background, antiquated structures of yellow and red ochre, white and pale cream rise from the water like aquatic plants that have always had their roots deep in that expanse of canal. Boats and gondolas populated with pleasure seekers float in the water, while other visitors stroll along the docks in brightly colored costumes— breeches and capes, or elegant long gowns. For a moment it is forgotten that the scene is made of oil, brushed on canvas stretched tightly over a wooden frame. For a moment, you, too, are in Venice. A man and a woman are standing before the painting. They are middle aged. The gentleman is a distinguished, sturdily built six feet tall in his modern, brown tailored suit. His face has an openness to it, with high cheekbones that take their most natural position when he is smiling. He clutches his homburg, while his blue eyes move slowly over the painting as if searching for something. The woman’s darker eyes are fixed on the picture also. Her lips, half-parted, smile as if she is listening to the soothing voice of a friend. She stands a little shorter than her companion. Her stylish, floral silk dress falls just above her calf and goes well with her attractive, pointed high heels. She reaches a gloved hand to her throat and clasps her pearls as she contemplates. Her light brown curls and Panama hat are cocked slightly to one side.