30 Days With Japanese Watercolors Turned Me Into a Painter
I have always been attracted to art supplies, and I love looking at art. But I do not consider myself a visual artist. Although I’ve taken a few art classes, my talent begins and ends at Pictionary.
At least that’s what I thought, until two years ago, when I got my hands on a leaf-green, linen-covered box of paints to test for a Wirecutter gift guide. The box contained a 6-by-8 grid of sumptuous watercolors made by Kuretake, a Japanese calligraphy and sumi (traditional ink wash) maker that was founded in 1902.
The set was so beautiful that I couldn’t just let it sit there once I was done testing it. Inspired, I signed up for a 30-day drawing challenge with Bay Area–based artist Wendy McNaughton (whose work I knew from The New York Times).
For the next 30 days, in 15-minute spurts, I experimented with the saturated Kuretake Gansai Tambi Watercolors in the privacy of my own home. Painting without the least bit of pressure to create something that I’d show anyone — and even without the pressure to get better — was fabulously liberating. I didn’t have to become a good artist. I just had to enjoy my paints. And enjoy them I did.
Sometimes a small-yet-beautiful gift is exactly the encouragement you need to take up a new hobby or explore a part of yourself you haven’t before. Now, whenever I open the light green box, I know I’m gifting myself time for creative joy and discovery. This is why I love the beautiful Kuretake Gansai Tambi Watercolors 48-Color Set as a gift; it contains all sorts of inspiration and possibilities. For the right person at the right time, these paints could be a gift that keeps on giving in the truest sense.
Gansai tambi are Japanese pan watercolors known for their intense pigment and easy dissolution, and they’re much different from the Crayola watercolor sets you might be familiar with from childhood. The paints themselves are creamy and vivid, and it’s satisfying just putting them to paper. You can create either a dense, opaque look or a more-fluid, transparent watercolor look. If you use a thin enough brush, you can do very detailed work.
These watercolors are also forgiving. If I blob the paint on too thick, I can dab it off with a paper towel. If I get the color wrong, I can add water or mix in another shade. If I mess up the entire thing beyond hope, well, none of it feels too precious to trash and start over. Unlike more-expensive fancy watercolors, like those from legendary British brand Winsor & Newton, Kuratake’s watercolors are affordable enough for the hobbyist or beginner. A year and a half later, I am still on the same set, with lots of life left to go. Not bad for something that’s less than $40.
Kuratake’s 48-color set contains all of the colors I need, plus a couple of metallics. And I like that even though this is not technically a travel-size set (at 9 by 11.5 inches, about the size of a standard notebook), it’s packable enough to take on trips. If you prefer a tiny travel set, Kuretake does make one, as well as sets of 12 to 36 colors. The company also makes special color pallets, like Art Nouveau and Graphite Colors, as well as a 100-color deluxe box set.
Each Kuratake set comes with a color chart (for you to paint in and reference) and a plastic mixing tray, though you’ll have to get your own brushes.
Full disclosure: After the 30-day challenge ended, I did not keep up my daily painting practice. But I did keep painting. It’s something I do to relax while I’m listening to an audiobook or a podcast, or doing nothing at all. I’ve found out that I am much, much better when I have an image to reference. When I try to paint from my imagination, I completely forget what a tree looks like, or a cup, or a person. And I am still much too uptight to paint good abstracts.
Two years after getting my Kuretake Gansai Tambi Watercolors, I would still never call myself a visual artist. But I do paint all of my own cards now. I take my paints and a pad of watercolor paper ( I love this Fabriano 7-by-10-inch spiral-bound pad) with me on all trips. I’ve found that I love making visual journals of special days. I’ve also found that painting can be social, and I’ve had wonderful rainy-day sessions with my dad, my daughter, and friends. I’ve even spotted some of my works on a fridge or two.
I have Wendy McNaughton to thank for my newfound enthusiasm for painting. (If you’re gifting these paints to a non-painter, to help them get started, I highly recommend her Grown Ups Table program of delightful, low-pressure art prompts.) But I also, most definitely, thank the paints themselves. They are so beautiful and so beguiling that I simply had to give them a whirl.
This article was edited by Katie Okamoto and Catherine Kast.
