Mary Engelbreit's Home Companion


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Some people do amazing work at a young age, but not me,” says Theodora Page.
   Raised in an artistic, socially conscious family, Théo majored in sociology at Skidmore and joined the Peace Corps in the mid-1960s, teaching baby care and hygiene in Africa. “I was amazed by the folk art I saw all around me, especially in Morocco, where I traveled during breaks,” she recalls. “Everywhere I looked, I was bombarded by pure color and form.”
   Back in the states, she worked for an arts organization in New York, “trying to figure out what I wanted to do.” Over the next few years, she did plenty: earned a master’s degree in teaching at Boston University, taught elementary school, married, had two children (Rachel and Sam), and started an interior design business with a friend. When her husband, Toby, got a job teaching environmental economics at Brown University, she “took about a million art classes” there and at the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD). “That’s where I really started developing an eye.”
   She found herself longing for the patterned designs and vivid colors of Africa. During lunch one day with a group of women friends, she suddenly blurted out, “I want to paint furniture.” With their support, she began. “I was awful at first,” she admits. “It took time.” When a friend from her lunch group took one of Théo’s first pieces to a local store and sold it, “that gave me the courage to keep trying.”

(a) Théo’s studio, a converted breezeway between house and garage. “I went on a clock-painting binge. I’m over it.” Most of the artwork is by her sister Linda Smyth or daughter Rachel (decorative frames by Théo). (b) The top of this box was inspired by a garlic clove.

A friend commissioned the desk, (c). “Her house has lots of William Morris patterns, so that was my guiding image.” The black-and-red color scheme on the side was influenced by Japanese kimono design. Théo haunts secondhand stores and prefers older furniture. “It usually has wonderful lines, and I like giving it a second life.” (d) “I call this my Moroccan bureau, because its pointed curves remind me of the architecture in that part of the world.”

(e) Sam, Théo’s son, made this in a woodworking class, and she painted it. “I had fun putting my art on his art.” (f) Works in progress. (g) After the Théo treatment, a pair of porch roof supports turn into fanciful snails.

Patterned Behavior
Today, Théo’s work fetches a pretty price at fine galleries and shows, and she’s in demand as an instructor at RISD.
Most mornings, she pours herself a cup of coffee, heads for her studio, and starts sanding furniture. After applying a primer coat, she paints the piece a solid color.
“As I do this, I’m exploring ideas and honing them down,” she explains. While the initial coat dries, “I choose a design, mostly using patterns from copyright-free sources, and trace it onto vellum. Working in small sections, I transfer the pattern onto the object." Then she paints, using acrylics. “Sometimes I’ll work freehand, but mostly I follow the pattern.” She doesn’t mix colors or use any shading. “I like that flat, brilliant, folk-art look that I first noticed in Africa.” As a last step, she adds several coats of polyurethane varnish. “I think of each piece as a series of joined images, linked canvases that react to each other and create a story.”
Théo doesn’t regret that it took her so long to find out what she really wanted to do with her life. “I guess I had to be a human filing cabinet for a while and fill myself with experiences and ideas. But when I had time to let it happen, everything came bubbling out.”

(h) A woodworker made this “spider table” for Théo. She echoed the contrast between its fragile legs and sturdy body with contrasts in color (sweet pink versus vibrant red and stark black) and pattern (circles versus stripes). “I like contrasts in form, color, and pattern within each piece.” (i) The chicken-coop chest, named for the faux wire on its doors, contrasts organic floral forms against geometric patterns. “I was in an angry mood when I painted it—you can tell by the spiky leaves.” (j) “I get more paint on my apron than on the furniture!” (k) A vellum pattern.

(l) A full view of the Moroccan bureau, also shown on (d). “The blue reminds me of the Moroccan sky.”

(m) “An early piece, inspired by the delphiniums in my garden. Can you tell I was longing for spring?” She added vine-like, wooden curlicues to the arms, and crowned it with sprigs of bright green telephone wire for a caterpillar effect. (n) A child’s chair from a second-hand store explodes with riotous color. “Children deserve lots of color and pattern. Most kids’ furniture is too sweet and bland.” (o) Another William Morris-inspired desk. “Here, the tension between colors and designs harmoniously resolves itself.” (p) This cast-off antique table "seemed" Oriental to me, so I used Chinese motifs and clear, lacquer-like colors."

the Art of Business
Don't paint to make money. Paint for the love of painting. Anytime I try too hard to please a client or do something that seem "fashionable" I don't get the look I want.
Start selling your pieces at relatively low prices, then raise them as you feel more confident in your work.
Get a studio (even if it's a corner room) where you can leave your work out and have privacy. You need to develop your own style through trial and error (much error!), away from questioning or criticism.

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