Henry Hensche’s voice is still in my head, always inspiring and pushing me further to reach my excellence as a painter. I consider myself very fortunate to have been able to meet and work with this master colorist. I knew immediately, from my first encounter with his teaching, that I was in contact with a significant part of art history.

The Cape School was an environment of like-minded students who were striving to learn Impressionist color. Many had studied with Hensche for years and their advanced color studies, displayed on the drying rack at the end of the day, were both humbling and breathtaking. My husband, Dale Axelrod, was the person who introduced me to Henry’s color and brought me to the Cape. I had been impressed by the simplicity and honesty in his still life studies. Dale’s work had a lot of structure and he repeatedly talked to me about creating form with color changes. I don’t think I would have gotten this concept without painting side by side with him day after day. Dale’s work exemplified the simplicity of form that Hensche was teaching.

Now, over 20 years later, having begun to understand the process, I am not always in a state of confusion. I feel a certain confidence in the work I do. At the same time, I realize I must forge ahead to explore new depths. Henry maintained that the painter who becomes complacent and satisfied with his or her work will not develop. That critical voice is what makes me keep painting and setting my standards high.

The Hensche school was a wonderful training ground. The first day there I saw that even the advanced students were often painting simple block studies. They helped the new students by this example, and talked to us about the process of seeing, about organizing your lights and darks, and laying out your palette. Henry used to say that this is the first thing you should do—organize your lights and darks. I also remember him saying we were all too stupid to see the color, and that it would take a lot of study to overcome. At times he could be tough but I always forgot about it when he started working on one of my paintings. I found it amazing that using so little paint, maybe 5% red here, and 10% blue over there, he could shift the whole light key (which I had labored on for the past three hours with no success) to a beautiful level. I realized this is the sign of the master—knowing how much and where to put the paint, and that it would take me years to figure out.

From the time I met Henry Hensche, my path became clearly defined and I had no interest or desire to paint as I had once painted. Henry presented the truth to me and I could not ignore his challenge to search for it and accomplish it in my own work. I will be forever grateful to him. I feel it is my duty to support this incredibly important movement in color and art which began with the seminal work of Claude Monet, and the subsequent teaching of it developed by William Merritt Chase, Charles Hawthorne, and Henry Hensche, in whatever way I can. Henry kept it alive during a period when it was not a popular movement. I am eternally grateful that he had the courage and strength to keep this movement alive and add to it with his incredible vision.

Camille Przewodek, Petaluma, CA