Along the shoreline and into the hills
A conversation with California impressionist painter Rodolfo Rivademar
by Bondo Wyszpolski
As far as I could tell, every wall, in every room, was covered by his paintings. “As an artist,” says Rodolfo Rivademar, showing me around his home in San Pedro, “I always thought I’d love to buy a house. I need to buy a house (he told himself) because I need to live with the art.”
To live with art, to breathe art, and to make art everyday — that’s been Rodolfo’s goal.
And his achievement as well.
We sat down at his dining room table on a pleasant June afternoon and over cups of strong coffee discussed what brought Rodolfo to the United States, why he paints what he does, what motivates him, and what he’d still like to accomplish.
“I was born and raised in Argentina,” Rodolfo says, “in Buenos Aires, which is a great cosmopolitan city. Both of my parents were art lovers and I was exposed to good quality art. My father was a civil engineer; I call him a Renaissance man, a Renaissance man who loved art.”
By the age of seven or eight, Rodolfo was drawing, and he studied with his mother who taught fine art. However —
“My parents encouraged me to study architecture and not fine arts.” He laughs. “But I have no complaints. I learned a lot from architecture. “That took six years,” Rodolfo says. “In the meantime, I was not painting as much.” But in another sense, he was.
“I would paint what I call ‘painting with my mind,’ which is to say I became very methodical because I think before doing anything.” Even though he didn’t have time for the easel and the paintbrush, Rodolfo would look intently at things and then ask himself how he would paint them. Years later, he still does this.
And so, in the early 1980s, Rodolfo moved 6,000 miles north.
There are several major major cities in this country where he could have gone to hone his artistic skills, and I would think that New York would top the list. But Rodolfo, methodical as he is, asked around, and was told he should settle for California. But where in California, San Francisco or Los Angeles? Further inquiries followed. Needless to say, he opted for the metropolis in the southern part of the state. Something about it being more like Florence, “that freedom of the Renaissance” and where “nature is more benign.”
It proved to be an ideal choice and I hardly have to say why: Just look at his paintings. The Palm Springs area is a favorite location, as well as all along the coast, particularly Santa Barbara, Carmel, and San Luis Obispo, not to mention a wealth of scenic vistas in Portuguese Bend and elsewhere on the Peninsula.
But listen, it wasn’t just coincidental: “Many years ago, when I was studying fine arts, I was buying some art supplies and I spotted a book on California Impressionism.” He looked at the photographs it contained “and then I realized, gee, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life. It was like a little epiphany. I knew exactly what I wanted to do. That’s how it started. Ever since I’ve been doing California Impressionism, with a contemporary approach of course.”
At first the focus was more on pastoral and coastal scenes. “Now I’m developing a taste for snow-capped mountains. It’s like a mystical symbol” — which he likens to Shangri-La. “I love Palm Springs because of that.”
When you go out and make your sketches, I ask Rodolfo, do you then paint onsite or do you return home to paint?
“Always I work on location, always,” he replies. “I either draw or I do pastels or I do oil. Mostly oils.”
And you do all of that while you’re out on location?
“Yes. I love that. It’s a lot of fun.”
How do you find these sites?
“Well that’s an excellent question. Sometimes I go into Nature knowing exactly what I want — and then it’s not going to be what I wanted. So then I have to discover it. I need to keep an open mind; it’s important to keep an open mind.
“Many times by accident the best things happen. Sometimes nature reveals itself in a very different way and I go, gee, I like that — it’s helping me.”
Do you ever work from photographs?
This may suggest a highly purist attitude, but it makes sense. I know portrait painters — like Lance Richlin — who only paint from life.
And when Rodolfo sketches or draws, he uses a sepia (a reddish-brown) crayon instead of working in black and white. “Black and white for me is too metallic,” he claims. He cites the Old Masters, who also used media other than graphite when they drew. I think a lot of this has to do with the tonal value he’s looking for, one that’s less harsh.
“I do a lot of drawing,” he adds. “I have over 400 drawings, at least.”
There are open pastures, fields and prairies that can make for a stunning composition, but sometimes an idyllic landscape is marred by the developers’ plow. In Palos Verdes, Rodolfo says, there used to be poppies, but not anymore. But just because something has vanished doesn’t mean that Rodolfo can’t still paint it.
“In Carpenteria, I paint trees that are already gone, but I know they were there because I painted them before. So it’s not only what I see, it’s how I interpret it.
“A client of mine bought a beautiful painting of Miramar Beach, and he goes, ‘Oh, I love that cypress tree.’ It’s no longer there, it’s gone — but it was there when I painted it, and I keep painting it, if I find it necessary, because it was there at one point.”
In my opinion, lilac seems to have pride of place on Rodolfo’s palette, and one can single out thalo blues and greens as well (when asked, the artist also references Anders Zorn). In general, I do not think of his canvases as being lathered or saturated with deep, shadowy color. But sometimes he’ll come across another hue, and this happened one time, quite by accident, when he ran out of a certain pigment and then was told by his art supplier that, No, I don’t have it, but why don’t you try this one instead?
“So I buy it,” he says, “and then it’s a discovery; I realize I want to continue using this color. It happened with Indian Red (a variety of ocher), which I was not expecting to use. I love Indian Red. It’s wonderful, very universal.” He goes on to describe its capabilities — and now it’s an honored member of his paint kit.
“I never have enough time to paint. I love to paint. But sometimes I need to take a break.”
Or perhaps to switch gears and change his focus? Which brings us to another kind of landscape, that of the human body.
“I’m moving more towards figure painting, which I love,” Rodolfo says. His instructor was Ray Bustos, and Rodolfo claims that “it’s a life-changing experience taking his classes (specifically, in écorché — anatomical drawings that depict the muscles without the skin). It was expensive,” he admits, “but it was the best. And if it’s the best it’s not that expensive after all. It depends on how it is judged.”
An intense study of art, not necessarily for the express purpose of making it ourselves, can’t help but to elevate our perception. Call it a kind of eye vitamin if you wish.
“Through art,” Rodolfo says, “we can see more than what the average public can see. It’s part of the beauty of art. Even if we didn’t make enough money with art, our vision is more complete. My professor told me that: Even if you don’t make a living as an artist the quality of your life will be enhanced dramatically just because of that aspect.”
But nothing comes overnight. An artistic sensibility isn’t a FedEx package that lands on your doorstep the next morning.
“Anything good takes time,” Rodolfo says. “Any career will take time.”
In that case, his interlocutor says, Do you feel you’re still learning and developing even now?
“How wonderful. Thank you for asking that. Yes, it’s an ongoing process. It never ends. That’s the beauty of it. It’s like we’re always young at heart.” Rodolfo also admits that humility, when faced with what we still haven’t learned, is important. Arrogance doesn’t find a home here, and let’s remember what he said about keeping an open mind.
“If an artist says ‘I have nothing else to learn,’ that’s not a good sign.”
“I always realize,” Rodolfo adds, “that even if art is traditional it requires experimentation.” One must allow for the spontaneous approach. “And that can trigger a lot of creativity and discoveries; I love that, the artist surprising himself. I like to do that.”
As for what he studied in Argentina —
“I worked as an architect for a while,” Rodolfo says, that is, after he came to the States. However, “The minute I was able to make a living as a painter I dedicated all my time to painting.”
And you’re doing it full time?
“Full time. I used to teach at the Los Angeles Academy of Figurative Art, but no, I was painting, painting, painting. That’s all I want.”
He pauses, and clarifies this.
“As an artist, I’m also pragmatic. I always wanted to make a living as an artist, which I did accomplish after a number of years.” — the body of work he’s amassed speaks for itself. He’s also at the age where, in theory, he could cut back on the pace and intensity of what he creates. Sure, but not yet. “I’m a bit of a workaholic — a painter-holic — meaning I don’t necessarily need to sell or anything, but it’s my passion. I want to continue with it, till the last moment.
“The main thing is to paint. I love to do that.”
Rodolfo Rivademar is a charter member of the prestigious California Art Club and one of his paintings, “From a Distance, Point Lobos, Carmel,” is on view in their current show, through August 9, at VEFA Gallery in Torrance. Rodolfo’s work can be seen on his website, rodolforivademar.com. PEN
