I truly loved and admired Jacques. He was kind in any circumstance and always had a smile on his face. He always had his feet on the ground and his head in the clouds. That made him a Master extraordinaire. A printmaker with a natural instinct, he would make the best aesthetic decisions for the subject matter at hand. He knew what pigments to use to achieve the right tone, hue, and transparency. He knew what mix of black pigments, carbon, bone, vine, lamp, what types of oils, linseed, burnt, plate, stand, flash, animal fats or flower oils to use, to achieve the right sheen and viscosity for the ink on the engraving technique that was used as well as the choice of paper, type of fiber, sizing, texture, weight, tone, to get the desired look for the final print. He knew how every choice was going to influence every other one made, with reciprocity. He also weighed and made all the practical decisions about using known and proven engraving and printing skills and techniques and the necessity to experiment, invent, and venture into new territories. He had the gift of understanding beyond words. He knew the need, desire, expectations and angst of the artist he was working with on every single project. He was a natural, no art school or art training, he had started as an apprentice himself at age 14, in the studio of Mr. Lacouriere, which he later purchased and to which he added his own name “Frelaut” when he had become a master and Mr. Lacouriere had passed away. In his long career he worked with every significant artist of his time, and many less famous, but every one was important to him. Every project was an adventure and a challenge! And Jacques was the Master and Commander, and as a young apprentice, I was in awe!
Today very few people see how a work of art is made or care to know how it was created. You may see it but can you feel it? The craft, that makes true masterpieces is emotionally strong, timeless, and transcendent.