The painting, View of the Sea from Haut Cagnes (ca. 1910), was originally owned by Jakob Goldschmidt, one of the most influential bankers in Weimar Germany and a major collector of Old Masters and Impressionist art in the 1920s. He was also a major patron of Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie. Nazi persecution forced Goldschmidt to flee in 1933 to Switzerland, before emigrating to the United States, where he died in 1955.

Some of Goldschmidt’s art collection stayed behind in Berlin, however, as collateral for a loan. In 1941, the Nazis seized the collection, which included the Renoir painting. The work was sold at the Berlin auction house Hans W. Lange later that year. It came up for sale again in 1960 at Galerie Nathan in Zurich. It was later purchased by Fritz Berg, the first president of the BDI association of German industry; after the passing of Berg’s widow, in 1989, their collection went to the Osthaus Museum in Hagen, where it has remained.

The city restituted the painting to the banker’s heirs and then repurchased it so it can remain on view at the Osthaus Museum. The painting will be displayed with information about Goldschmidt.

“The heirs of Jakob Goldschmidt are happy to have reached a satisfactory agreement for both sides in this matter after more than 15 years of intensive discussions,” their lawyer Sabine Rudolph said in a statement. “The restitution of the painting is a recognition of the fact that their grandfather suffered great wrongs under the Nazi regime, including huge financial losses.”

The repurchase was funded by the state of North Rhine-Westphalia, the German culture ministry, and the Cultural Foundation of the States.

In his youth, Renoir worked as a porcelain painter.
Born in 1841 in Limoges, a city southwest of Paris, Renoir earned money for his family as a porcelain painter when he was a young man. Honing his talents by copying artworks that hung in the Louvre, Renoir enrolled in the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris in 1862. There, he studied with Emile Signol and Charles Gleyre, through whom he met contemporaries like Frédéric Bazille, Claude Monet, and Alfred Sisley, all of whom went on to achieve acclaim in their own right. Though he had little work or money in these early years, Renoir began exhibiting with the Paris Salon in 1864 while he was still in his 20s. In the following years he took on portrait commissions and began painting en plein air with Monet on a regular basis at La Grenouillère outside Paris. At the time, painting outdoors was not yet in vogue, and artists were still assumed to work indoors, so such a gesture went against what was learned in art academies.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Eugène Murer (Hyacinthe-Eugène Meunier, 1841–1906), 1877, oil on canvas.

Renoir’s success accelerated in the 1870s with a successful portraiture practice.
The artist returned to Paris from service in the Franco-Prussian war in 1871, and his portrait business remained lucrative and popular. He painted figures such as the pastry chef Eugène Murer, the aristocrat Madame Georges Charpentier, the banker Paul Berard, and many others, often cultivating a personal familiarity with his subjects that was reflected in his portrayals of them. The figures that Renoir painted in such portraits appear to glow, as if they are being illuminated by a spotlight pointed at a stage. Despite the artist’s Impressionistic touches to the backgrounds of such works, the idiosyncrasies and peculiarities of his subjects were rendered with great care and detail. Among the works Renoir created in this time were also landscapes and still lifes painted at Berard’s home. During this decade, Renoir continued painting en plein air in locations including the Seine River, and he maintained his relationship with Monet and met Gustave Caillebotte and the dealer Paul Durand-Ruel, with whom he showed works in London. He showed work in the Salon des Refusés—which originated as a showcase for art that was rejected from the more academic Salon—in 1873 and the first Impressionist exhibition in 1874, and he would go on to participate in subsequent Impressionist shows in 1876, 1877, and 1882.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Reclining Nude, 1883, oil on canvas.

Renoir became intensely interested in Old Masters artists and classical painters in subsequent years.
In the early 1880s, Renoir traveled to Algeria, Spain, and Italy, to study the work and techniques of artists like Eugène Delacroix, Diego Velázquez, Titian, and Raphael. During these travels Renoir met the composer Richard Wagner and painted his portrait in 35 minutes. (That work now hangs in the Musée d’Orsay in Paris, which has one of the finest collections of Impressionist art in the world.) Renoir’s portrait of Wagner, as well as works like Reclining Nude (1883) and Young Girl Bathing (1892), reflected the artist’s new interest in the aesthetics of classical painting. Young women would become the subjects of many of Renoir’s works, and it is work of this kind for which Renoir is best known today. (In recent years, critics and historians have addressed the role that the male gaze plays in these works.) But Renoir added a modern twist to the classical nude, often employing models for the creation of such works and situating them in Impressionistic landscapes.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Hills around the Bay of Moulin Huet, Guernsey, 1883, oil on canvas.

He painted a famed series of landscapes while summering in Guernsey.
In 1883, while staying on Guernsey, one of the Channel Islands, Renoir created 15 paintings depicting the Moulin Huet bay. In these works, the artist seemed to return to his Impressionistic roots with painterly marks in the lush grass and light blue sky. With their loose brushwork, these paintings depict nature in flux as grass moves in the wind and the ocean peacefully flows onward. At times, because of how brushy Renoir’s strokes are rendered, his landscapes appear to flirt with abstraction. He would sell four of those paintings to Durand-Ruel that same year, and they would be celebrated 100 years later in a batch of postage stamps issued in Guernsey in 1983.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, The Artist’s Family (La Famille de l’artiste), 1896, oil on canvas.

In the 1890s, Renoir paints his family.
Renoir married Aline Victorine Charigot, who had been a model for his 1881 painting Le déjeuner des canotiers and with whom he had a son, Pierre, in 1885. In the following years, during which the couple would have two more sons, the artist focused on painting scenes of his family members. (His son Jean would go on to become a well-known filmmaker, starting with silent movies and working into the 1960s.) Among works of this kind are The Artist’s Family (La Famille de l’artiste), 1896, which depicts Aline with Pierre, Jean, and a nurse. In paintings such as this, Renoir depicted bourgeois French life at the time, using his signature brushwork to accentuate the features of his figures.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, The Bathers, 1918-19, oil on canvas.

Renoir remained restlessly curious and exploratory in the final years of his career.
Suffering from arthritis, Renoir moved from Paris to the French Riviera town of Cagnes-sur-Mer in 1907. He worked with an assistant, Richard Guino, on sculptural works, and continued creating portraits clearly influenced by the Old Masters. His longstanding interest in painting bathers was also reinvigorated in this time, with one work of this kind, painted in the last year of his life, depicting two nude women whose bodies seem to undulate, thanks to the way Renoir applied his rich hues. At the time of his death in 1919, Renoir was a celebrated figure in the art world. Today, his work can be found in major collections around the world, including the Musée d’Orsay, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, the Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia, the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, and elsewhere.

The French avant-garde was used to being rejected by critics—it was common for the day’s most cutting-edge artists to test social mores by producing work that would ignite controversy—but the scale of the Salon’s rejection proved an intolerable insult, and these artists’ protests eventually reached Emperor Napoleon III. Napoleon preferred the academic style of countryman Alexandre Cabanel, but he spied a chance to score points with the bohemians. He then issued a statement: “His Majesty, wishing to let the public judge the legitimacy of these complaints, has decided that the works of art which were refused should be displayed in another part of the Palace of Industry.”

The Salon des Refusés was born, and more than a thousand visitors flocked to the Palais des Champs-Elyées to see the strange and—according to some—indecent works. By some accounts, the laughter from the people who came to see the show could be heard outside the gallery’s walls. It would not be the last time the artists included were ridiculed—and it was also not the last time they would band together to produce an exhibition that would go down in history.

In Paris in 1874, Monet, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Edgar Degas and Paul Cézanne, among others, organized a Salon des Indépendants. Titled the “The Impressionist Exhibition,” after Monet’s Impression, Sunrise, a gauzy study of the port of Le Havre at dawn, the show featured works dedicated to the subject of light’s transitory effects on nature. Of the title, Monet said, “Landscape is nothing but an impression, and an instantaneous one, hence this label that was given to us, by the way because of me.” The show was neither a financial nor a critical success, and even cost the exhibiting artists money—and social capital. Upon seeing Monet’s Impression, the art critic Louis Leroy wrote in the French magazine Le Charivari, “Impression! Wallpaper in its embryonic state is more finished!”

That label, once meant as an insult, wound up sticking, though the Impressionists themselves didn’t embrace it until their third exhibition in 1877, around the time the critical tide had begun—slowly but surely—to turn in their favor through the campaigning of influential dealer Paul Durand-Ruel. In that time, however, the Impressionists experienced their fair share of critical scorn. Below is a round-up of artworks by Impressionists and their associates that were largely lambasted by critics and are now considered representative of the group’s innovations.

Édouard Manet, Olympia, 1832-1883.

Édouard Manet, Olympia (1863)

Manet is considered by some to be Impressionism-adjacent, as his innovations also influenced other movements, but the Impressionists such as Monet and Berthe Morisot were inspired by the ways he flouted sexual norms of the era. One work that did as much was Olympia (modeled after Titian’s 1538 Venus of Urbino), which was considered so scandalous that pregnant visitors to the 1865 Salon were advised to keep their distance. Critics decried its “color patches” and “yellow-bellied odalisque,” though it did find its supporters in prominent intellectuals such as Emile Zola and Charles Baudelaire. Recasting the female nude as a courtesan, Manet was also hit with criticism for his bizarre use of perspective and his unadorned brushwork.

Paul Cézanne, A Modern Olympia, 1873-74.

Paul Cézanne, A Modern Olympia (1873-74)

Cézanne painted A Modern Olympia in response to Manet’s painting Olympia—and elicited similar scorn because of it. Of Cézanne’s bold brushstrokes, luminous colors, and dreamlike composition, Marc de Montifaud, a French art critic, wrote in the journal L’artiste, “Mr. Cézanne merely gives the impression of being a sort of madman, painting in a state of delirium tremens,” adding, “Like a voluptuous vision, this artificial corner of paradise has left even the most courageous gasping for breath.” Cézanne’s early work was indebted to the dark coloring of Eugène Delacroix, though under Camille Pissaro’s tutelage, he learned to widen his tonal scale.

Camille Pissarro, Ploughed Field, 1874.

Camille Pissarro, Ploughed Field (1874)

Cézanne called the Dutch-French Pissarro “the first Impressionist,” and the latter artist was akin to a father figure for the group, equally concerned in his paintings with depicting labors of the working man as the effects of nature. He cycled through styles, gravitating in his later years towards the pointillism pioneered by Post-Impressionists Georges Seurat and Paul Signac. Pissarro was perceived as being less accessible—and memorable—than contemporaries like Monet,. His presentation of Ploughed Field in the 1874 Exhibition of Impressionists was met with derision. Leroy, in Le Charivari, related the comments of an observer: “Those are furrows? That is hoar-frost? Buts those are palette-scrapings placed uniformly on a dirty canvas. It has neither head nor tail, neither top nor bottom, neither front nor back.”

Edgar Degas, Little Dancer Aged Fourteen, 1879–81.

Edgar Degas, Little Dancer of Fourteen Years (1879–81)

Throughout his lifetime, Degas bristled against associations with Impressionists, once writing, “No art was ever less spontaneous than mine.” But he was criticized alongside the Impressionists all the same. One his best-known and most controversial works, the sculpture The Little Dancer, was widely reviled upon its presentation at the 1881 Impressionist exhibition in Paris. Art critic Elie de Mont wrote, “I don’t ask that art should always be elegant, but I don’t believe that its role is to champion the cause of ugliness.” Degas created it from colored wax, real hair, and a fabric tutu, a mixed media practice that was unconventional in the 19th century. The choice of subject, a ballerina, was equally scandalizing, as the profession was then considered working-class and lewd.

Claude Monet, Women in the Garden, 1866-67.

Claude Monet, Women in the Garden (1866-67)

Monet endured nearly a decade of contempt from the public and the press, who found his artworks formless and unfinished. Albert Wolff of Le Figaro wrote that he was personally “saddened” by an exhibition including Monet’s landscapes. Monet’s large-scale Women in the Garden was among the paintings rejected by for the Salon, with one Academy member exclaiming, “Too many young people think of nothing but continuing in this abominable direction. It is high time to protect them and save art!” The going was initially rough for Monet, but by the end of the 1870s, he had begun to receive acclaim. A painting of his was accepted in the 1880 Salon, and some of his light studies sold, prompting Pissarro to dub his longtime friend “commercial.”

Berthe Morisot, Lady at her Toilette, 1875–80.

Berthe Morisot, Woman at Her Toilette (1875-80)

History has not been kind to the female Impressionists—they showed alongside Monet, Manet, and other male artists, but have never been considered marquee names. One was Berthe Morisot, who exhibited at the 1864 Paris Salon and was shown prominently in nearly every Impressionist exhibition from 1874 to 1886. (She, like many of her female colleagues, was often not listed on flyers advertising the shows.) She was concerned with the female experience, which she depicted with a selfhood rarely afforded the subjects of her male peers. Woman at Her Toilette, which was included in a Barnes Foundation show of Morisot’s art in Philadelphia, illustrates her quick brushstrokes and empathetic gaze.

Alfred Sisley, The Flood at Port-Marly, 1872.

Alfred Sisley, Flood at Port Marly (1872)

Alfred Sisley, an Englishman who lived nearly his entire life in France, never achieved the household recognition of his peers, though he was a key initiator of the movement, having been included in the 1874 Impressionist exhibition and having been represented by Durand-Ruel. He was almost exclusively a landscape painter, eschewing the brash colors of Monet and the dynamic lighting of Cézanne. Pissarro described Sisley to Matisse as “a typical Impressionist.” The Flood at Port Marly, a series of two paintings painted between 1872 and 1876 at a village along the Seine, is representative of his signature style, featuring moody colors and a greater emphasis on the landscape than the people who populate it.

Mary Stevenson Cassatt, Mother and Child, 1905.

Mary Stevenson Cassatt, Mother and Child (1905)

Cassatt stood out twofold among the French Impressionists, as a woman and the only American among their ranks. She was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and settled in Paris in 1875. By then, she was regularly showing in the Paris Salon, but she only turned toward the Impressionist style after meeting Degas, who invited her to exhibit in four of the eight Impressionist exhibitions. Like Degas, she was interested foremost in figure compositions but shared with Morisot a refusal to objectify women. The relationship between mother and child became her specialty, with Mother and Child (1905) among her key works. Her subject was often described by critics of her time as being overly “feminine,” and Cassatt achieved commercial success—something that was then rare for female artists.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Luncheon of the Boating Party, 1880–81, oil on canvas, 51¼ x 69⅛ inches.

THE PHILLIPS COLLECTION, WASHINGTON, DC, ACQUIRED 1923

When Pierre-Auguste Renoir painted Luncheon of the Boating Party in 1880–81, the 40-year-old Impressionist chose a genre subject long popular among French artists. Like others before and after him, Renoir depicted figures gathered around a table. Previously, this theme was more associated with the strictures of Salon entries than with avant-garde strategies, but even modern masters like the Realist Gustave Courbet and the Post-Impressionist Paul Cézanne created life-size, dour works with stolid, impassive men deep in thought in bland interiors in, respectively, After Dinner at Ornans (1849) and The Card Players (1890–92) at the Barnes Foundation.

Renoir upended those conventional approaches. He portrayed nine men and five women on a terrace overlooking a river where two appropriately dressed guests had been rowing. His scene, unlike those by his predecessors and successors, is exhilarating and festive, filled with gaiety and animation. Light permeates every aspect of the party. It strikes the variously angled faces, the creased white tablecloth on which wine bottles and glasses sparkle, shining clusters of grapes, flower brimmed hats, sun dappled trees, and the flowing river below. If you have ever wondered what makes Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party a masterpiece, not to mention a singular example of Impressionism, you just need to refer to other pictures belonging to this timeworn category.

To celebrate the museum’s crown jewel, the Phillips Collection in Washington, D.C., is presenting “Renoir and Friends: Luncheon of the Party” through January 7, 2018. It’s an unusual “In Context” show. For starters, though this is a painting on a grand scale, Renoir made no preparatory studies for it. Hence, the friends. And what friends they were. On a summer afternoon spent less than nine miles from Paris, these men and women shared a love of the arts, much more than just a sunny repast. They were actresses, art critics, another painter, and several writers, including an adventurer who wrote short stories, a theater critic for Le Chat Noir who had been the second mayor of Saigon, a government functionary, and a viscount who wrote books on Voltaire and Robespierre.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, The Dance in the Country, 1883, oil on canvas, 70⅞ x 35⅜ inches.

MUSÉE D’ORSAY, PARIS / BRIDGEMAN IMAGES

The exhibition at the Phillips features portraits by painters as revered as Renoir, Edgar Degas, and Gustave Caillebotte, as well as the more obscure Leon Bonnat and Jean Patricot, plus photographs by Nadar. Book covers, magazine articles, and sales catalogues are on view in display cases, as are three fashionable women’s bonnets and one collapsible top hat.

The stage is set in the first gallery with three scenes of the Seine at Chatou painted by Renoir. His renderings of rivers, ponds, and the ocean might be the most underappreciated works in his oeuvre. Is there a better analogue for rushing water and rolling waves than his frothy brushstrokes? Look at the nearby postcard views of Maison Fournaise and its outdoor terrace where Renoir placed his lunch crowd. The camera can’t compete with the billowing clouds and flowing water rendered by the Impressionist virtuoso. At the Phillips, you’ll relish Renoir’s smaller, more intimately scaled seascapes, empty of figures.

Having set the scene where the merrymakers gathered, Eliza E. Rathbone, the Phillips’s chief curator emerita and project director, introduces the cast of characters—the artist’s friends and colleagues—in the following display spaces. Since he didn’t make studies, the usual practice for such large canvases, Renoir needed to be familiar with the physiognomies of his revelers, and he had to be able to coax many of them to trek out to Chatou to pose for him.

Actress Ellen Andree plays an enchanting role in the Boating Party. In the middle ground, wearing a flower brimmed hat and drinking a glass of wine, she locks eyes with viewers. Andree charmed other painters, too. Modest works by Degas and Edouard Manet for which she modeled are also here, as is a photograph of her by Nadar. A few years later, in L’Absinthe (1876), Degas depicted her very differently, as a downcast souse.

Rathbone has also curated a gallery with paintings of Aline Charigot, who was only 21 when she was portrayed as a delightful rosy cheeked young woman with a little dog in the foreground of Renoir’s masterwork. Companions from the late 1870s onward, the couple waited until 1890 to marry. It is a compelling addition to recent related projects, like the splendid show of portraits of Madame Cézanne in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Lehman Wing in 2015 and Mary Mathews Gedo’s 2010 book of portraits of Camille Monet. In the riveting Dance in the Country, one of three spectacular canvases with life-size revelers from 1883, which was borrowed from the Orsay and closes the exhibition, Aline Charigot already looks zaftig. Wearing lovely frocks and portrayed with pale blues and roses, Charigot’s charm, whether she’s reading an illustrated magazine or sewing or being twirled around a dance floor, is as evident to visitors to the Phillips as it was to her paramour.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Lunch at the Restaurant Fournaise (The Rower’s Lunch), 1875, oil on canvas, 21⅝ x 26 inches.

THE ART INSTITUTE OF CHICAGO, POTTER PALMER COLLECTION

A self-portrait of Renoir, then around 35 and about five years away from executing his great boating party scene, is included among the depictions of his future wife. With a high forehead, haunting eyes, a bushy moustache, and rudimentary whiskers, he doesn’t look like he’d be comfortable at a boating party. However, in the exhibition’s catalogue, we learn that, in addition to having a great sense of humor, he was “amiable, kind, generous, and unpretentious.” In Hilary Spurling’s biography of Henri Matisse, the aging Impressionist also comes across as generous with younger artists. At the end of his life—Renoir lived to be 78, dying in 1919—he befriended Matisse and inspired his younger colleague’s paintings of odalisques executed during the 1920s.

The largest gallery is devoted to Renoir’s friendships with men. Two of the most fascinating were the writer Charles Ephrussi and fellow painter Gustave Caillebotte. Wearing a top hat and standing in the background with his back to viewers in the Boating Party, Ephrussi was the only person identified by name when this picture was hung at the seventh Impressionist exhibition in 1882. An art critic for the Gazette des beaux-arts, Ephrussi wrote books on Albrecht Dürer and Paul Baudry, which are installed in vitrines along with copies of the magazine as well as two sales catalogues from 1913 related to his collections. A beloved Manet painting of a bunch of asparagus, once owned by this connoisseur is on view, too.

Also hanging nearby are Renoir’s endearing portrait of Madame Leon Fould, Ephrussi’s blue-eyed, pale skinned aunt, and a mesmerizing portrait of the blue-eyed, mustachioed composer Albert Cahen d’Anvers, whose commission Ephrussi was thought to have arranged. Both treatments enhance the artist’s reputation as a skilled portraitist.

Gustave Caillebotte, Sailboats on the Seine at Argenteuil, 1893, oil on canvas, 28⅞ x 17 inches.

PRIVATE COLLECTION

The section devoted to Caillebotte, who lived between 1848 and 1894, expands our knowledge and appreciation of both Renoir’s life and his good friend’s. Dressed as an oarsman, which he was, in a sleeveless shirt and a straw hat, Caillebotte anchors the lower right of the Phillips’s painting. A painter as well as a discerning collector, he was the godfather of Renoir’s oldest son, Pierre, who was born in 1885, and became an actor of stage and screen. Renoir was the executor of Caillebotte’s will, which bequeathed important Impressionist works to the French state.

With ample amounts of blue and white and feathered brushstrokes that create dazzling light as well as reflections on the rippling water, four river views by Caillebotte from the 1880s and ‘90s make you want to board one of his sailboats and feel the sun on your face and the wind in your hair. Better known during the 20th century for his donations of works from Manet to Cézanne to museums in Paris and his sponsorship of the Impressionist exhibitions, the wealthy artist finally is getting recognition in the 21st century on the merits of his own art.

Having spent the greater part of “Renoir and Friends” with the artist’s associates, the show closes on a high note, with the Boating Party. The largest canvas on view, measuring almost four feet tall and more than six feet wide, it’s also the most radiant. If he had painted nothing else, Renoir would be heralded for this. It’s hard to fathom how something so charming could be so defiant. Despite featuring well-known, recognizable people, it was not painted as a group portrait, with the intent that individuals be identifiable. And though taking place outdoors in glorious weather, it is not a landscape epepainting. With lovingly rendered bottles, glasses, and fruit, the still life elements are probably the least noticed aspect of the picture. Renoir’s figures sit, stand, lean, and turn to their lefts and rights in captivating groupings of twos and threes. Bearded men contrast with women wearing hats. As for the garb of the celebrants, it ranges from rather informal clothes to exactingly formal dress. A busy scene filled with countless stories, it never feels frenetic.

In 1939, on the eve of World War II, Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s filmmaker son Jean brought together another group of Parisians for a weekend at a country estate. One of the greatest movies ever made, Rules of the Game is the perfect companion piece to Luncheon of the Boating Party. Both, in their own time and own way, ask, as another French painter did, what are we and where are we going?

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Ball at the Moulin de la Galette, 1876, oil on canvas.

VIA WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

Max Geller, the creator of the Instagram account Renoir Sucks at Painting, started a protest outside the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston yesterday. His demand: that the museum take its Renoirs of its walls and put up something else of higher quality. [The Boston Globe]

Randy Kennedy talks to Jim Shaw ahead of the opening of the artist’s retrospective at the New Museum. [New York Times]

Christie’s has tightened up its April calendar with what the auction house is calling “Classic Art Week,” a series of six sales of pre-modern art. [The Art Newspaper]

In 2016, when the Vikings’s new U.S. Bank Stadium opens, it will include 500 works of art, 200 of which will be commissioned by 34 by Minnesota artists. [Star Tribune]

An economically stable period in Brazil during the mid-’90s allowed for a new generation of art collectors. [The Financial Times]

Jamian Juliano-Villani at Tanya Leighton. [Contemporary Art Daily]

Hidden away in a forest near Nanjing, in China, is the Sifang Art Museum, which includes commissioned art by Ai Weiwei, David Adjaye, and others. [CNN]

In this minute-long video, it’s a man with a leaf-blower versus a wall of Post-It note art. [TIME]

A former teacher in Cortez, Florida has opened The Purple Pixie, an art gallery that also runs a coloring club for adults. [Bradenton Herald]