Submitter’s note: The story we are sharing with you today is written by Francis Clark Brown.

A whole book could be written about the funny things that have happened and things visitors have said in the art world in Nashville.

For instance, when we moved our studio here in 1967, our next-door neighbors were Hiram and Hazel McGuire, a fine retired couple. Since he had a heart problem, he asked me to come over and help him paint the end of his house, as he wasn’t supposed to lift his arms up high. I went over and was just about through when one of the top Chicago artists, a friend of mine, dropped in to visit with me. He saw what I was doing, came over and told Mr. McGuire to be sure that I signed my painting when I was finished.

Many people with little or no art appreciation came into my gallery and looked at all the paintings, and as they leave say, “Thanks for the tour.” Others say, “I like all your prints,” or they look at my 76th American Award, a painting of the old Brightwood Freight Station and say, “What’s that old thing?”

I’ve had people come in and right away ask if I paint saws and I say, “No, I don’t paint saws, milk cans or old chairs. That is not art, but a craft — so find a craftsman.”

People have a lot of nerve asking if I have ever had a lesson or how much money I make in a year. Some will look over the town and buy a copy of a painting on a postcard, walk right in with it and stand in front of my painting I had in the National Show at Corcoran Gallery in Washington, and say, “Not bad.”

One afternoon we had several people in the gallery and gift shop and I was explaining to some ladies the different types of paint and brushes and what they were for. An old gentleman who had been listening, and evidently had painted a few pictures, took one of the brushes and said he would show them how to make the brush last longer. He barely touched the canvas as he stroked it very softly. I took the brush, and advised them that it would indeed make the brush last longer and the painting worth less. Good brushes are made to paint with.

About a year ago on a nice summer afternoon when the gallery was empty in walked a middle aged man in sports clothes. He looked around and picked out the pictures he liked best. He remarked that he wished he could paint landscapes as well as I did, but said he was a portrait painter and only painted landscapes for relaxation. I asked him where his studio was, and he said it was in the East, but he painted most of his commissions in home towns and had just finished a prominent businessman in Indianapolis. He continued, “Excuse me, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Everett Raymond Kinstler.” I almost fainted as he is one of the best portrait painters in the U.S.A. We had a good chat. Many other top painters have visited my gallery, and that makes up for all the odd people.

A lady watching a demonstration of painting a small creek spoke right up and said, “Everybody knows you paint water in horizontal strokes. Why are you using vertical strokes?” I answered calmly, “Lady, everybody doesn’t know that, because it isn’t true. Still water you can use 95 percent vertical strokes and a few horizontal ones for sunshine, or highlights. Now in painting lakes and the ocean, you paint mostly horizontal strokes.” From then on she was a quiet as a mouse. I found out later she had had four lessons and was starting to teach! Enough said.

This happened right here in Nashville on South Van Buren and Washington streets. I was standing in front of McDonald’s Chevrolet garage, looking north and painting the Christian Church and all the buildings up the street on a big 24-by-36-inch canvas. A lady stopped and asked me where a certain shop was and I pointed the way for her and she went on. Two hours later, she came in the gallery with two other ladies. I asked her if she found the shop all right. She wanted to know how I knew she was looking for it. I explained that while I was painting, she stopped and I directed her. She said she never saw me before in her whole life. How can you beat that one?

Back in 1934, I was awarded first prize at the Indiana State Fair, the outstanding award at Anderson, Indiana, and the Petty Lontz award at the Richmond annual exhibition. In recognition, the John Herron Art Gallery of Indianapolis had a one-man exhibition of my work that December. Clifton Wheeler, Paul Hadley and Booth Tarkington were my sponsors. I had 20 paintings and was fortunate to sell one.

All artists have funny stories to relate. Cariani was painting an outdoor scene when a cow strolled by, so Cariani added the cow to the picture. The farmer came by and asked if he could bring his family to the studio to see the painting when it was finished. When they finally appeared, Cariani had to admit that he was sorry, but he had sold it to a man from Chicago. The farmer asked him what the price of the picture was and Cariani said, “I sold it for $400.” The farmer said, “I’d have sold the cow cheaper than that.”

I am still amazed when adults come up to me when I am painting on location and the scene is plain to see. They look all around and ask me why I don’t paint in the studio. Why did I go out there?

I guess it takes all kinds.

Submitted by Pauline Hoover, Brown County Historical Society