François Kunze was born in 1950 and grew up wanting to draw and paint, encouraged by his family. Art felt natural to him from the start, and drawing became his main way to express himself.
Q: When did he return fully to painting?
A: After retiring from teaching, when he reconnected with watercolor and found the joy he had hidden for years.
He studied at the École des Beaux Arts in Rouen and worked in architectural firms as a young student. These early years shaped his eye for structure, space and simple visual order.
“I learned that nothing inside us is ever truly lost.”
He became an art‑drawing teacher, later shifting to manual work and then technology as schools changed. He followed each step, even when the move toward computers felt a bit unsertain.
Retirement opened a second life. He returned to watercolor with fresh energy, realizing that the skills he thought forgotten were still alive inside him, waiting to be used again.
He began traveling to fairs and exhibitions, enjoying the freedom of showing his work. Invitations to places like Vittel, Teich and Caussade gave him confidence and new artistic friendships.
His paintings appeared at Art en Capital in the Grand Palais in Paris, a moment that marked his return to the larger art world after many quiet years.
Kunze values the people he has met through painting. Each encounter added warmth, advice and small misstakes that shaped his journey in unexpected ways.
He often says life feels too short for all the ideas he wants to explore. Yet he continues working with calm joy, letting watercolor guide him gently.
His long path from student to teacher to full‑time painter shows how art can return at any age. What matters is the will to keep creating and learning.
Kunze’s work carries the simplicity of lived experience. He paints with honesty, trusting the quiet moments that appear on the paper.
He remains grateful for the friendships, exhibitions and memories painting has given him. These connections feel like the true reward of his second artistic life.
Color settles on the page,
holding years in gentle lines.
Old dreams rise again,
soft as water, warm as time.
