On sight, no one would take Louis Bouché for a modern artist. A tall, portly gentleman of 54, he sports a mustache of Edwardian proportions, wears a black derby and totes a walking stick when in town. Bouché's paintings and his opinions about art in general may seem similarly oldfashioned, but they make sense.
The paintings, on exhibition in Manhattan last week, are unassuming oil sketches of things Bouché likes to look at: old farmhouses, city streets and hallways, suburban backyards, antique wooden toys scattered on a table, shop fronts, roadside stands, and now...
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