The daughter of the painter

Rafael Durancamps, my father

To be daughter of a great artist, of a formidable painter has touched me greatly. It has allowed me to enjoy a life full of wonderful experiences. And in my memory it always is shared with the memory of my mother, a woman of great character, of deep faith and a great gentleness and refinement. They shared everything throughout their lives, as she was the perfect complement for my father.

They married in 1912 very young (19 and 21 years) and very much in love. They married in the village Sabadell were they both were children. My father had been born into a family with textile tradition close to the heart. The family never approved of painting as a vocation. It was viewed as a very bad choice in those days!

Very soon they had a son but the dream of having a new family was cut short, because at the age of 3 months the boy died suddenly. It was a severe blow to them, but the misfortune drew them closer to one another as it happens when love is authentic. After 14 years I was born. It was not a very propitious time since he just had initiated his life as a painter in Paris after having broken the chains that tied him to the textile industry, to the security of his family, and to his own country.

My father always was an exceptional human being. He was full of life, an untiring conversationalist, a propagator convinced of his aesthetic principles. He always said that he had seen a star in the painting that he followed, and he always received help from the love and the faith that, my mother, his wife Maria had in him.

His calling, so great that he surrendered all to the art and this attitude occupied his whole being. I remember enjoying our time when he taught me about the world: its natural beauty, the great works of art in the museums and the wonder in every day events. He was such an open person, so extroverted, that he never could enjoy one single thing but absorbed and marveled at everything he saw. This is the most important characteristic to understand his painting, and through his art others are able to participate in his emotions.

Misunderstood by his family, his life was difficult from the beginning. Being a self-taught artist, he studied the grand painters represented in the important museums of his country while working for his family. He worked 15 years in Paris, which were at first difficult, and then little by little he become more appreciated in France. He gradually became better known and appreciated in Catalonia as well where he always maintained his bonds. I still remember him in Paris saying to me, that he had the desire to tread again on our land. Later years brought great successes, fullness and recognition of his value in very diverse forms: gold key to the city of Barcelona, favorite son of Sabadell, Silver Garbanzo of Madrid and a countless number of other tributes, honors and exhibitions in Barcelona, London, Madrid and Paris.

All of this done with flattering that never changed his personality: formidable worker, steadfast artist, man who never was affected by winning, strong in the face of adversity, amiable, cheerful, tender in the family and one who held a deep Christian faith. He was a great artist but never a Bohemian. He rose at dawn to work in his studio until the last day of his life. This was essential for him, he said: " I do not have the right to sit at the table until I have finished my work".