Margaret Gornick

I grew up in National City. It is a small town south of San Diego. It has suffered from an inferiority complex for years as it is surrounded by other cities and has no way to expand. San Diego has had its own issues with inferiority. So while San Diego booms into the millions, National City remains at about 50,000 people. When I was growing up, National City was even smaller. But even if it were a small city, it had resources that upon reflection were extraordinary. One of National City's treasures was Margaret Gornick. She had an artist studio in her garage where she painted and more importantly she taught.

She had about a dozen desks where students would come and learn to paint. From the very first day, we painted with oils. No crayons, watercolors or pastels. Oil paint, the real thing. Just like real artists. We didn't paint by numbers, we painted by the instruction of Mrs. Gornick. If we had difficulty with a detail, she would come and show us how to do it. Most of my pictures have her hand in them. I can't take all the credit for these pictures I painted but that was how we learned. Hands on. She would teach us about color, light and mixing paints. We had to paint color wheels. She taught us how to move the eye to the center of a picture.

In addition to teaching us the techniques of painting, Mrs. Gornick would teach us art appreciation. Most all of what I know about fine artists I learned from her. When I had art history classes in school, they were a breeze as I already had been exposed to most of the artists we studied.

When I was in high school I went to Europe with a church group. We saw all of Europe in 10 days. REALLY. Ok, so we tried. Anyway, when we reached Florence, the first site we went to that morning was the church Il Duomo that had at that time, Michelangelo's last Pieta. We walked as a group up to the statue which back then, had no screen, no barrier, we had total access to the work. Since it was unfinished you could see the chisel marks left by Michelangelo. It was like we was coming back tomorrow to finish it. So out of the rough rock, you see Christ and Mary and perhaps Michelangelo himself coming out of the rock. I stared. I circled the work, looking from top to bottom, side to side, totally lost in the marble. Before I knew it, I was alone and an hour had passed. My group had left and I was in a strange city without a clue where I was, needless to say, I found my way back to our youth hostel after a day exploring Florence on my own. Now, you may ask, why did I bring this up in the middle of my story about Mrs. Gornick? Because it was from her that I learned of Michelangelo. I learned how to appreciate his work. Appreciate it in a way far beyond the physical depiction of people he accomplished.

In 1960 I started studying with Mrs. Gornick. I was 8 years old. I studied with her for four years. I quit because I thought I had better things to do which wasn't true. In 1960 we had that great political campaign between Nixon and Kennedy. Mrs. Gornick started a painting of the new president before the election. By the first of November 1960 she had everything finished except the face. She had painting the body standing in front of the Rose Garden and the White House. After the election, she painted in the face of John Kennedy.

Mrs. Gornick died long ago, but her work lives on in all her students. I have found an art dealer on the internet that claims to sell her paintings so perhaps, you can buy an original Gornick. I would like to see that painting of the president again. Most of these paintings I did in 1963. The clown is my last painting with Mrs. Gornick, and like President Washington's famous portrait it is unfinished. A few years ago I went to New Orleans. I saw patios that looked like my painting. I am forever grateful that my mother sent me to learn from Mrs. Gornick.