Before introducing Harvest The Minis, I want to take a moment to talk about gouache as a medium.
As a fine artist, I can’t tell you how many times someone has suggested I move on from gouache and begin painting in oil or acrylic instead. On one hand, I get it—the bias towards those mediums as “the gold standard of art media” has deep historical and institutional roots.
But on the other hand: Why should any artist follow someone else’s rules?
Gouache has been unfairly sidelined for ages. Considered a tool for illustrators, graphic designers, and children’s book artists, it’s frequently dismissed in fine art circles as media that’s only suitable for preparatory work and sketches.
Always the secondary medium. Never the main player.
I’m here to challenge that perspective. I think it’s time to reframe the narrative and recategorize gouache as the versatile fine art medium it is—one capable of standing alongside works painted in oil and acrylic in gallery and museum settings. Because honestly, the rules of art are superfluous. They were designed to preserve power and limit possibility, to elevate some while diminishing others. It’s a game.
So let’s spend less time gatekeeping art materials, and more time honoring creative expression, artistic intent, and technique regardless of medium.
My first introduction to gouache was in college where it was presented as strictly an illustrative tool. My professor used it to teach us about tonal value in preparation for oil and acrylic painting. We were limited to black and white, building grayscale portraits square by square. It started out as a simple exercise, but it changed everything for me.
That was the project where I first fell in love with gouache. And I fell hard.
It brought together all my favorite aspects of other painting mediums to form one super medium:
Water-based cleanup and re-workability, like watercolor
Quick-drying time, like acrylic
Rich, opaque color, like oil
And a signature matte finish—my favorite quality. That one’s all gouache.
But because gouache was considered inappropriate for fine art, I felt like I had to label myself as an illustrator. One of my art professors even told me that the combination of gouache and realism wasn’t “fine art” and pushed me toward illustration instead. I didn’t know any better at the time, so I leaned in. I ended up building a career painting gouache portraits on paper— under the banner of illustration—for the next 14 years.
Looking back now though, I wasn’t fooling anyone. It was always fine art… And there was always gatekeeping.
The truth is, artists have been using gouache in different forms for centuries. The Ancient Egyptians and Greeks used gouache-adjacent paints made with honey or egg yolk as a binder. European masters painted with tempura (a close cousin of gouache) until the 16th century. And even artists like Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Albrecht Dürer, Henri Matisse and Picasso (not exactly a bunch of lightweights) all used gouache at various points in their careers.
In 2017, I visited the Musée National Picasso-Paris and found this quiet little gouache gem hanging on the wall. Portrait d'adolescent en Pierrot (1922) was painted in gouache and watercolor—proof that Picasso never shied away from using whatever darn medium he wanted to. Just a wonderful reminder that gouache has always had a place in fine art.
So this idea that there’s a “correct” medium? A “better” medium? It’s complete nonsense.
In my previous post about The Whiskey Painters of America, I wrote about how much I loved their commitment to low key acts of rebellion. Their quiet defiance deeply resonated with me. That’s how I live my life: I protect my peace without apology, I live simply on purpose, and I don’t chase trends. I never know what’s “in”—I just know what feels right for me.
And when I sat down to write this post, I realized my continued and deliberate choice to use gouache regardless of pushback is my own quiet act of creative defiance—one that challenges hierarchy, rejects artistic elitism, and blurs the lines between fine art, illustration, and craft.
Gouache is a medium that’s honest. It frankly refuses to be something it isn’t.
This becomes clear when you compare gouache to other media. For example, oil dries slowly, allowing artists to blend, glaze, and rework areas long after the first layer is applied. Acrylic dries fast and permanently, making layering without reactivating earlier areas possible. Finished works in either are often varnished, creating a glossy sheen and adding depth. But if we consider varnishing from a philosophical perspective, it’s the last thing that’s added before presenting the final work. That gloss? It acts as a subtle separation between artist and audience.
And the whole idea that oil and acrylic paintings last forever? That’s deceptive. Nothing lasts forever. That’s just ego trying to out-maneuver impermanence.
Gouache though—it hits different.
It never dries waterproof. It can always be reactivated. This makes layering difficult and mistakes harder to hide. Artists using gouache have to be present and deliberate in their choices, and if you look closely you can often see what they were thinking as they worked through the visual puzzle in front of them. Every brushstroke, every decision, and every uncorrected moment is visible. Gouache’s matte texture ensures it. There’s no gloss to hide behind and separation is replaced with intimacy. You see what the artist sees. It doesn’t promise permanence, but even still, when taken care of properly it holds up just as well as oil or acrylic.
Even in terms of scale, gouache tells a different story. Oil and acrylic paintings can be massive and even their “small” works are big by gouache standards. These paintings demand admiration, usually from a distance.
But gouache? Gouache asks you to get closer. It doesn’t demand your awe, it merely asks for your attention. It becomes a quiet exploration of the artist’s emotional and creative journey.
Harvest the Minis is all about the small details—I like to think of each piece as planting a seed of intimacy between myself and you, the viewer. I can’t wait to share more about them in an upcoming post!
And what a journey it is.
Because you can’t fudge it with gouache. To use it well, you have to understand it. You have to be comfortable adapting to its nature. And as an artist working in gouache, you have to accept that you’re going to be forced to admit certain uncomfortable truths:
You can’t control everything.
Some things can’t be fixed.
And nothing lasts forever.
So here we are. Gouache has officially entered the Contemporary Art Discourse Chat as the quiet rebel working to dissolve the artificial boundary between so-called low and high art. It forces conversation about material honesty, challenges artistic gatekeepers, and demands recognition of intent, creativity, and technique over outdated power plays.
Defiant till the end. Just how I like it.
And honestly? I think it just might be working. Because today, many contemporary fine artists are creating gallery-ready works in gouache on paper, and prestigious museums, and institutions are taking notice. Expect to see more gouache appearing in permanent collections, making a name for itself amongst the other established media.
Brushes unite!
x
Manda