Visiting museums with painters is a luxury. They point out details of compositions that go unnoticed by visitors. This is how Antonio López caught our attention as he praised the pink fingers of Queen Mariana de Velázquez. Pink is also the cloud attached to the vaporous golden staircase of Jacobo de Ribera’s Dream. And pink which cannot be imitated is the skin with which Giovanni Battista Tiepolo used to cover his characters.
Personally, I am fascinated by the clouds of Tiepolo. They are dense and vaporous or solid and spongy at the same time. Looking at them closely, they seem to expand. Clouds which can only be attributed to Tiepolo, whose magnificence transcends the mythological and religious characters that fly over or rest on them. The sublime cottony clouds of Tiepolo reflect luminous degradation of grey, mother-of-pearl and white that, like rococo, died at the same time as their creator.
Before specializing in his brilliant and polished cut images, my friend James Rieck made some copies of Tiépolo’s frescoes in Japan. James told me about the importance of having excellent experts to prepare the plaster, although the most difficult thing is to paint quickly and precisely on the wet surface before it dries out and no longer absorbs paint. In the case of Tiepolo, it was said that he took less time to paint his images than to mix their colors. In truth, the clouds of Tiepolo emerged so easily because they were nothing more than a reflection of the affable character of one of the great geniuses of the art of painting.