Despite certain works, such as the aquarelles conserved in the Museum of Natural History, the art of watercolour painting remained somewhat marginal for a long time; the Académicians maintained that it was not of the order of “grand art”, and the “précieux” considered anything that was not oil and canvas to be fragile and worthless.  Nevertheless, as the works of Bonington, Turner, Charles Jacques and Harpignies illustrate, watercolour enables an artist to represent the more subtle aspects of nature.

 

J.W. Hanoteau, just as the earlier masters, has precisely this rare ability to seize the exact moment when the stalk of wheat bends over to the rhythm of the wind’s breath or when the clouds compete with the irregularities of “Baroque pearls”.  In our day and age in which we leave precious little room for savoir-faire, for paying attention to emotions, Hanoteau sometimes remains seated, in front of his subject, from dawn to dusk.  “Sometimes,” he told me, “if the light conditions change, I come back to complete the painting I started until the light and the winds are again just right.”

This love of the art, combined with a contemporary style, confers upon Hanoteau’s work an appeal that could not be more intense.