Mary Whyte: Seeing the Person Behind the Painting

I recently went to see Mary Whyte: Salt of the Earth at the Gibbes Museum of Art in Charleston, and it brought me back to the beginning of my own life as a painter.

“Tamales,” 2023. By Mary Whyte (American, b. 1953). Watercolor on paper. 55 x 43

I took a class with Mary in 2003, during my first few years of painting. I remember being drawn to her work then, and I still am. She has a way of bringing people to life on paper that goes far beyond simply capturing what they look like. There is feeling in her paintings. You can sense something about the person she is painting—their work, their life, their personality, their story.

That is especially evident in Salt of the Earth, which brings together 26 of Whyte’s large-scale watercolors of Americans from different walks of life. The exhibition was created in celebration of America’s 250th anniversary and focuses on the everyday people who help shape the country’s story.

That idea of painting the people around you is something I understand. I’ve done it myself. My painting of Otis came from knowing the subject and wanting to capture something beyond just his appearance. That is part of what I appreciate about Mary’s work. She isn't simply painting people; she is telling us something about them.

My painting from a Mary Whyte workshop from 20 years ago.

The model for the painting I made during Mary's workshop was a woman who worked as an attendant at the museum. I remember being struck by her presence, and that painting has stayed with me. It now hangs in my home, surrounded by other paintings I’ve collected and made over the years.

And then there is the medium itself.

I love what Mary does with watercolor. I just don't particularly like painting with watercolor.

To me, watercolor is unforgiving. You paint backwards, in a way—preserving the white of the paper rather than simply adding white paint when you need it. I prefer being able to move paint around, to put something down and then change my mind. I like having the freedom to move color from one place to another before committing to what the painting is going to become.

Mary's process is almost the opposite of that, and yet she has mastered it.

That is one of the things I admire most about her. She knows exactly what she is good at, and she leans into it. She has developed a very particular way of seeing and communicating, and she trusts that language. Her paintings have a confidence that comes from knowing what you want to say and knowing how you want to say it.

Paintings featured in Salt of the Earth at The Gibbes Museum of Art thru Sept. 27, 2026.

There is also something very Andrew Wyeth-like about the way she approaches her subjects. Not that their work looks the same, but there is a similar sense that ordinary people and ordinary lives are worthy of close attention. The person in front of you is enough.

Mary has spent years doing exactly that—looking closely at people and giving them her attention.

Walking through Salt of the Earth, I was reminded why that matters. The paintings are technically remarkable, but the technique isn't really what stays with me. It is the people.

That, to me, is the real gift of Mary Whyte's work. She makes you stop and look at someone you might otherwise walk right past.

And maybe that's why, more than twenty years after taking that class, I still find myself looking at her work and thinking about painting. But, to be clear, no watercolor for me.

Mary Whyte's Salt of the Earth is on view at the Gibbes Museum of Art in Charleston through September 27, 2026.