Long May We Paint

We're often asked, as we paint, "Who are you? Is this a class?" Here is the beginning of an answer.

By tradition and design, the PAPC has been a free, voluntary, informal association of artists who paint together on Saturday mornings in the Chicago area. Whoever shows up to paint is by virtue of that amazing fact a member of our group and is entitled to all of the privileges, benefits and emoluments of such membership.

The privileges and benefits, and the accompanying responsibilities, which accrue to a member of the PAPC include the following:

1. he is entitled to freeze his butt off in the winter on Milwaukee Avenue while the snow makes his brushes soggy and ruins his "snowscape";

2. she is entitled to be bitten by flies at the Montrose bird sanctuary because she forgot her bug spray and wore shorts instead of long pants;

3. he is entitled, but not required, to submit his painting to a loosely structured, often rambling and self-contradictory, critique by other painters at the end of the morning, bearing in mind to take what he needs and leave the rest;

4. she is entitled to participate as much as she wants in the critique of others' paintings, politely keeping in mind that every painting, however buggered it may appear, is "salvagable";

5. he is not required to pay any dues, swear any oaths, or adhere to any persons, foreign or domestic;

6. she is entitled to exhibit plein air paintings, in whatever medium, in our group shows, keeping in mind not to spend all of her earnings in one place;

7. he is not required, but freely may, assist in any joint undertakings of the group, most notably in hanging our shows and getting the word out in the manner of a carnival barker;

8. she is entitled to, and by all rights will, grouse about going to Montrose or Humboldt Park "again," as long as she herself puts forward the occasional suggestion about where to paint;

9. he is not required to join the Palette and Chisel, or as it is also known, Peyton-on-Dearborn;

10. if she paints with us one time only, on only the balmiest summer morning in June, and never paints with us again, she may forever call herself a member--since she is going to do so anyway, and how would we stop her?;

11. he is not subjected to committees or elections or drafting of by-laws, since all such things make his head hurt worse than looking at a "Kinkade;"

12. she is expected, always, to share her method of gluing linen to board or her method of mixing a tricky shade of green;

13. he is not expected to go out of pocket on behalf of the group, but if he does so in connection with a show or some other incidental expense, he must have the good grace to either frankly seek reimbursement from others or not to complain about it--we do not keep books.

Long may we paint.

(Click on the drawing above to enlarge it. The drawing was done in pen and ink by JLS Williams, former member of the P&C; it is found within the Palette and Chisel logbook accompanying an entry about the painting expedition made to Oswego in September, 1903.)