California Regional Artists: 1920s - 1950s

Today’s Image

California Heritage Museum in Santa Monica

When I travel, I like to see if there’s an art museum in the area that I haven’t visited before and that may have something new or different either in a permanent collection or on exhibit. That is just what I found on a recent trip to Los Angeles. I happened to pick up a copy of the Santa Monica Daily Press, a daily free paper. Under happenings or events or some such title was listed California Regionalism: Oils on Canvas. Although I’ve been to LA (and Santa Monica) quite a few times, I was not aware of the California Heritage Museum, where the exhibit was showing. Today’s Image is a shot of the museum and marquee.

I even had to Google the name and location to see exactly where it is—on Main St. and Ocean Park just a couple of blocks from the beach. What we found when we got there was not an art museum, but rather an historical museum about the early days of Santa Monica, and it also hosts art exhibits.

The museum itself is the restored 1894 ‘craftsman’ style home of Roy Jones who founded Santa Monica. The first floor is full of California vintage furniture of the era and an interesting collection of individual decorative tiles. The tiles were handcrafted with motifs ranging from Spanish and Mexican heritage to flowers and agricultural products related to Southern California. Several times a year the museum hosts a “tile show" and auction for collectors.

One of the rooms also held a most interesting exhibit of Mexican Calendar Girls, the Golden Age of Mexican Calandar Art 1930-1960. It’s a collection of lithographic prints in color of lovely Mexican women that “embody Mexican history, culture, and aspirations.” That’s something you don’t see everyday.

But what we came for was on the second floor, the California Regionalism exhibit. It’s a collection of popular California artists of the time period of the 1920s to the 1950s. The paintings depict everyday life, mostly in Southern California, but with a few from the Bay Area, too, in a period of tremendous growth. They were part of an art movement called Regionalism, of which I’ll have to find out more. The paintings include rural and desert settings, coastal scenes, and, of course, cityscapes of Los Angeles during the era.

The artists whose works are exhibited are Paul Sample, Barse Miller, Ben Messick, Millard Sheets, Phil Dike, Ralph Hulett , Phil Paradise, and Emil Kosa, Jr. I was not familiar with the work of any of these artists, which actually made the viewing more enjoyable, as I was experiencing their art for the first time. As a group, the styles range from loose and airy to contemporary to realism, but you can see the individuality of each artist in his work.

This little museum exhibiting such interesting and beautiful paintings was a lucky find. I especially liked the work of Emil Kosa, so the next OrbisPlanis art blog will be about him and some of his paintings in the California Regionalism exhibit.

Cheers!

Five Tips for Watercolor Painting

Today’s Image
Santa Barbara Patio
Watercolor on Paper
Copyright 2009

Today’s Image (above) is one of my first watercolor paintings completed after having attended what I like to call Watercolor School (WS) for a couple of months. I posted it in response to one of my Twitter followers who asked about my watercolors (thanks @lulasi). WS is not actually an art school, but rather weekly lessons for a few of us lucky artists at the studio of two professional watercolor painters.

Having said that, today’s blog is about five tips I have learned so far at WS. They are not necessarily the most important tips nor are they by any means the only tips for watercolorists. They are five tips I have learned so far that were important enough for me to be able to remember them off the top of my head for this blog.

Here we go:

1. Use 300-Pound (640 grams/square meter) Hot-Press Watercolor Paper for the “Best” Results - This is the standard for the class. Up until I took the class, I didn’t even know there was 300-pound paper; I thought 140-pound was the maximum. No one has said exactly what the “best” results are, but I have gleened from comments, they mean pleasing results in the way the paint goes on, sturdiness in being able to take many washes, and the ability to make changes (even what they call “scrubbing”—not actually scrubbing, more like scraping), and durability so the painting will last a long, long time.
2. The Standard Palette is a Good Place to Start - This is a palette of three primary watercolors: Cadmium Red Medium (or Deep), New Gamboge, and French Ultramarine. The reason to use these is that you can make almost all, but not all, other colors you’ll need as a beginner. There are other palettes (delicate, old masters), but those will come later with more knowledge.
3. Buy the Best Quality Paint You Can Afford - Since you’re only starting with the three colors, cost may not be a problem for many, but I don’t want to presume anything, and will let you know that in the US, a small 17 ml. tube of professional quality watercolor costs about US$8 to US$12, depending on the color and your place of residence. A tube goes a long way, but still. You can substitute the colors labeled “hue,” but I was told you use more of it, so there is not much cost saving, and that the hues are not as transparent (relatively speaking) as the good quality stuff.
4. How to Flatten your Finished Painting After it Dries - Depending on how much paint and water you used on your painting, you will, no doubt, end up with a painting that curls or bows inward/outward to some extent. What you do is apply some water to the back of your painting—careful, not too much, but enough so that it’s shiny. Then on a level surface, place your painting between two other sheets of watercolor paper (300 lb.). On top of that, place some really heavy books so that they cover most of it. Leave it alone, and after the third day, your painting will be as flat as a pancake. No joke.
5. Never Give Up on a Painting - I was told by the other students that this is the only rule that cannot be broken in the class. Once you start a painting, you cannot quit it no matter what. You may make corrections, you may change it up, you may put it away for a day or two, but you must finish the painting. No if’s, and’s, or but’s (and the instructors will not allow a haphazard, slap-dash effort either).

So, these are five useful tips I’ve learned so far. Occasionally I’ll blog about other tips I learn and show some more watercolors.

Cheers!

Learning to Be an Artist

Today’s Image

Growing

A sample photo from Microsoft

Today’s Image is a bright photo of growing and glowing flowers, and is the perfect visual for today's blog on learning to be an artist.

If you’re an aspiring artist you may want to learn as much as possible as quickly as possible so that you can use what you learn immediately. I say this not to lessen in any way the importance a classical art education provides. However, for many, enrolling in a fine arts curriculum is just not possible. The answer may be to acquire and supplement your art knowledge through your own volition of study, lessons, and, for lack of a better word, STICK-TO-IT-IVE-NESS.

This allows you to focus your effort and learnings on the type of art and/or the medium that most interests you. You will achieve your art goals if you are fully ENGAGED and INTERESTED.

Be selective in your interests, and you can either jump-start or even immediately improve your artistic skills. If you have any inclination to pursue art as a career, a vocation, an avocation (or hobby), or whatever your motivation is, be DETERMINED.

Compare becoming an artisit to learning how to drive a car. First you learn some of the basic rules of the road before you get behind the wheel. Then you get behind the wheel and actually learn to drive by doing it, as there is no substitute other than the experience itself. Next, you practice, practice, practice, and your skills greatly improve. Finally you are zipping along a freeway, expressway, autobahn, or whatever they call them in your part of the world.

You may currently be anywhere along your journey as an artist, from the absolute novice to a professional . It doesn't matter where. To keep the learning-to-drive analogy going, you can enter, change lanes, pass, and exit anywhere along the way. Just DON'T LOOK BACK.

As a novice, the whole art experience awaits you, and that’s an exciting place to be. If you’re already a professional, then you know it’s never too late to learn a new technique or take up a new medium.

The secret to growing as an artist is to always KEEP LEARNING.

You have already taken the very first step, which is acknowledging your desire to create artwork. You have taken the second step by doing something about it--you’re reading this art blog aren’t you? You may have even moved to the next steps of actually drawing or painting something that interests you.

Some piece of artwork interested you, caught your eye, got your creative juices flowing. That became your inspiration and motivation.

There will be times in your creative journey when you’ll want to give up or give in. During those times, which will occur in the middle of your creative effort, REMEMBER WHAT INSPIRED YOU initially, and that will MOTIVATE YOU to complete your work of art.

Whenever you start and whatever you try, BE PATIENT and give yourself a chance to succeed before moving on. You must PERSERVERE and FOLLOW THROUGH.

The old cliche, “10 percent inspiration and 90 percent perspiration“ rings true when you finally complete your work of art.

Never forget, in art ONLY YOU HAVE TO BE SATISFIED.

Cheers!

How to Paint the Color of Shadows

Today’s Image

Motel Cactus

Acrylic on Canvas

Copyright 2008

It’s May Day, time to turn the calendar page on my Impressionists art calendar. And featured for May is Camille Pissarro and his painting “A Corner of the Garden at the Hermitage”--a beautiful painting to look at for the next 31 days.

Today’s blog, however, is about painting shadows and how tricky that can be. In reading more about it, I’m pretty sure it's tricky for me, you, and most artists including even those who are expert and renowned.

Why is it so tricky for so many? It goes back, I think, way back to when our brains taught us to recognize what things are. After we had learned what a tree is, we then stopped looking at them. So, a tree’s a tree, a house is a house, and a lake is a lake, and they’re all the same.

The fact is that most people don’t actually see details when they look at things, and therein lies the problem with shadows, too. Today's Image is an acrylic of mine in which I really had to concentrate on painting the shadows.

We know shadows are present in bright sunlight or in any light, really, but we don’t think about them as objects. But they are just as real as the tree itself even if they are fleeting and changeable. A professional artist told me that painters generally don’t paint their subjects with enough dark shadows or contrast. They tend NOT to paint shadows properly to make whatever they’re painting look realistic.

Here are a few things I researched on the subject (in real books, too, not just on Google!) that I hope will be helpful to you.

"Shadows are important to your artwork," Arcas says In Mastering Perspective for Beginners. Shadows allow the artist to capture the three dimensions and transmit them to two-dimensional paper or canvas. Shadows are nothing more than the absence of light. Sounds easy enough, but because factors, such as the source of light (natural or artificial) and the direction from which it comes, artists must learn how to paint them. In addition, there are two kinds of shadows—the shadow on the object itself and the shadow the object casts.

In addition to not being able to see them correctly, even when we do see shadows, we don't have a clue as to what color they are. Ask anyone what color shadows are, and they'll probably say, "black." Wrong.

In Color A Course for Mastering the Art of Mixing Colors, Betty Edwards says one problem is that we only see the colors we expect to see. She uses the example of an orange that is never “orange” all over. Depending on the brightness of the light it’s in, its colors range from almost white in the highlight to orange, red-orange, to a dull brown in the shadow.

What about the color of the shadow the orange casts? Ms. Edwards goes on to say the color of the shadow cast depends on the color of the surface itself. The color of the surface will be reflected in the cast shadow, but it also depends on, 1) reflected light from the object itself and 2) any surrounding or background color.

In Exploring Color, Nita Leland says shadows are like veils through which you can see underlying colors of the surface only darker and never black (I told you so) or opaque. She says to use 1) a deeper color of the surface, or 2) a complementary color to the overall light (does she mean color?), or 3) a creative color (not sure what she means) and not just a blue or violet, which I read are popular choices, or 4) chromatic neutrals , which are similar to a range of grays with hints of color (chroma). She also says some artists paint the shadow first, some last, and some as they go, but you should experiment.

See how quickly it becomes confusing as to how to mix colors to paint a shadow? Unfortunately, there is no simple, 1-2-3 guide for painting shadows. No wonder it’s tricky.

Cheers!

Why Is It Called Hooker's Green?

Today’s Image

William Jackson Hooker

You may have noticed the Twitter Updates section in the column over there to your right. Twitter is the mini-blog, instant messaging phenomenon that appears to be growing exponentially. I usually provide an update on Twitter a couple of times a day about what’s going on in my art “world, ” which may be of no interest to anyone except me.

Be that as it may, in a recent “tweet” I said mixing Antwerp blue and Hooker’s green watercolors makes for a pleasing turquoise. In jest, one response was, “Hooker’s green—what kind of painting are you doing?”

Since renewing my interest in art a couple of years ago, I remember seeing Hooker’s green named as a color in just about every popular medium—oil, acrylic, watercolor, and pastel.

That “tweet” also got me to thinking again about how certain colors got their names. But, as I often say, what do I know? I didn’t know where the name for Hooker’s green came from, so I thought I'd try to find out. Here’s what I learned:

Hooker’s Green is a music group and is the no.1 download of pop/electronica/indie music on Myspace. Oops--interesting, but nothing to do with the color or painting.

The freedictionary.com says it’s simply a mixture of Prussian blue and Gamboge. (I had previously researched Gamboge and posted a definition over to your right under Artists Factoids.) I then wondered why it’s called Prussian blue and could quickly see this becoming enigmatic, like a wheel within a wheel. But back to Hooker’s green.

The site handprint.com gives a very cold, scientific, chemical definition using the pigment (PG) C.I. number (click to see my blog about that subject) and saying something about four manufacturers mix it like PG7 and PG 36, but most artists prefer one pthalo green, and that it’s heavy staining, dark--blah, blah, blah…

On dictionary.com, finally I’m getting warmer--it says: Hooker’s green, origin 1850-1855, named after W. Hooker (died 1832), English illustrator.

So I then Googled the term "W. Hooker English illustrator."

Both Wikipedia and howstuffworks.com have nice write-ups on the life of William Jackson Hooker. Both sources said he was a renowned English botanist, an author, and a gifted botanical illustrator. He established a herbarium (whatever that is) in England that held more than a million species of dried plants and drew botanists from around the world. He also wrote and edited botanical journals including Curtis’s Botanical Magazine. But nothing about Hooker's green.

Then, on octavo.com I finally found information on his artwork and at last what I was really looking for. It says he was the finest English painter of fruit, and “Hooker even compounded a special pigment for the leaves, still sold to artists as ‘Hooker’s Green.’”

There you have it, from the OrbisPlanis!

Cheers!

Bargain Art Books

Today’s Image

Leonardo Da Vinci's Mona Lisa

appears in many art books

I recently bought a couple of books about acrylic painting online at Amazon.com. Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the last decade, you know that’s the online retailer for almost everything for sale in the world. This is not an endorsement for Amazon at all, just an acknowledgement that their site has a good inventory of art books for sale.

If you’ve bought art or other kinds of books on Amazon (or any other large online book or retail site), you may have noticed that, in addition to the book you want listed as being “on Amazon” itself, there are usually many more of the same book also available from independent booksellers.

What that means is that even though you’re purchasing the book online through Amazon.com, the book may be coming from an independent bookseller somewhere else rather than from one of Amazon’s distribution centers.

It doesn’t really matter, and that’s not what today’s blog is about anyway.

Today’s blog is about the enjoyment I receive, and I’m guessing you do, too, if you’re an art book lover, from looking through the printed catalog many booksellers send you after buying one of their books.

I am not endorsing this particular bookseller, or any other bookseller, but I received an old-fashioned printed catalog in the U.S. mail from Edward Hamilton Bookseller. The catalog is headlined Bargain Books in at least 72-point type on its cover.

This catalog includes not only art books, but every other kind of book you can think of. All kinds of books from Music Recordings to Television and Radio to Philosophy and African Americans are listed.

All kinds of art books are listed, most accompanied by a postage-size photo of the cover. What I like best is reading the titles and the brief blurb about the book’s content and then deciding if it’s one I want to buy. I counted 193 in all. The Art Books section runs from p. 59 to p. 66, so there's quite a selection.

Here’s one example: “Box Top Air Power: The Aviation Art of Model Airplane Boxes by Thomas Graham; showcases some of the most recognized and dynamic examples of aviation art ever produced having appeared on model airplane kit boxes; illus in color, 175 pages, 8 ½ x 11, paperbound, USD$21.95

And another: “1001 Paintings You Must See Before You Die; ed. By Stephen Farthing presents an essential, visually arresting reference for all art lovers; takes an incisive look at the world’s best paintings from ancient Egyptian wall paintings to contemporary Western canvases; illus in color, 960 pages, Universe, USD$23.95.

There are many, many more, and they range in price from USD$3.95 (Greek Art) to USD$289.95 (Later Chinese Painting and Calligraphy 1800-1950).

This type of catalog is also available online at many booksellers’ sites. However, there’s something special about having the printed catalog in hand and being able to flip among the pages comparing the books that is most satisfying—even though I’ll still buy the book online.

I must stop blogging now and purchase one of these books immediately!

Cheers!

Hans Holbein, The Younger

Today’s Image

King Henry VIII, c. 1539-40

By Hans Holbein

In the Public Domain

A recent article in the local newspaper reminded me about something—actually someone—I’ve been wanting to know more about. The story heralded the 500th anniversary this week of the day when Henry Tudor became King Henry VIII. My interest isn’t in Henry, who still gets in the news, and who most everyone agrees was not a very nice person even if he made England a world power.

No, my interest was piqued by the iconic portrait of King Henry VIII, which accompanied the story and is similar to Today’s Image. In the painting, Henry is wearing a red robe with enormous shoulder pads and—is that a beret?—a feathery black and white cap. I think I’ve also seen it in TV ads for beer. The portrait was painted by Hans Holbein, who is the person I’m interested in.

Not having studied art at university, and not having a background in art history or fine art, I admit I did not know who Hans Holbein was.

Since I started art blogging, his name crops up every now and then on the internet in articles on art or painting or art museum sites, for example. From the context, I figured maybe he was an Old Master, or not, or at least a painter who had gained a reputation, but it was a very long time ago.

Also, a friend who’s an artist told me he uses only Holbein’s, referring to Holbein Watercolors. Putting two and two together, I figured this guy must be someone important in the art world, what with his name on a whole line of artist’s paints.

So, I did a little online research. Turns out, there were two Hans Holbeins, who were referred to as the Elder and the Younger. The Younger (c. 1497 – 1543) is reportedly the one who painted the portrait of Henry VIII.

He was a German artist in the religious Renaissance style of the era. After the Reformation, he moved to London in 1526. He must have been good, because he worked for such notables as Thomas More, Thomas Cromwell, and Anne Boleyn. In 1535 he became the King’s Painter and rendered portraits of the king and the royal family. He is regarded as a realist for his extremely finely detailed likenesses in his portraits. However, one source said his portraits showed surprising little character and personality--the physiognomy--of his subjects. That's a little nit-picky.

He painted portraits of some of Henry’s wives including Anne of Cleves, Henry’s fourth wife. I read that after trying to maintain an alliance with Rome with his marriage to Anne, Henry divorced her because she was not as beautiful in person as Holbein’s painting made her appear. It’s an understatement to say that is the risk of taking artist’s license.

Holbein died of a plague that was going around in 1543.

So how did Holbein’s name get on the paint? According to their website, Holbein Art Materials (they make all kinds of products for artists) “is a family owned Japanese Company with head offices in Osaka, Japan. The company was formed just before the turn of the last century [I think they mean the century before last], and took the name of the much revered European artist Hans Holbein in the 1930's.” It says they have 75 percent of the Japanese artist market with more than 300 employees and 12 color chemists. Interesting.

So, now you know at least as much as I do about Hans Holbein.

Cheers!

What Is Frisket?

Sometimes the topics for the Orbisplanis Art Blog are about artists that I admire or whose work I have seen in museums or art centers. Sometimes the topic is drawing or painting tips (or even a lesson) that I’d like to share. Sometimes the topic is an art book that I’ve read or bought on an artist or technique.

Sometimes the topic is a bit mundane such as My Twitter Experience . Today's topic, however, is on frisket. If you don’t know what I’m talking about—read on.

Why would I pick a topic such as frisket about which to blog? Well, I recently have been taking watercolor lessons at what I like to call Watercolor School, and we have to use frisket. Although most all watercolor artists are probably familiar with it, it was new to me. So I decided to blog about it.

Just what is this frisket that I refer to? The plastic bottle that I have actually calls it liquid frisket, which I found out was only one of the forms it comes in. It also says, “For All Your Masking Needs.” A little marketing never hurts, right?

When you Google “frisket,” you find there is a lot more information on it than you ever imagined. There are 107,000 hits on frisket—imagine!

Turns out, the term frisket refers to several things, all having to do with separating one thing from another or covering up one thing so it won’t get mixed up or in with another thing.

In Wikipedia there are several descriptions. One is about the old letterpress printing methodology where an oiled sheet—the frisket—is used to keep the ink from touching certain areas of the page to be printed. Another description is about air-brush, which is a spray painting technique in which a plastic sheet—the frisket—is used to mask off certain areas to keep the paint from covering that area. It also mentions using friskets like a template that you use to cut out areas to be painted.

But none of the above descriptions have much to do with the frisket I used for watercolor. For watercolor what you want to do is to apply the frisket, liquid frisket to be exact, on the areas of the painting where you don’t want the watercolor to cover or even touch. If you don’t use frisket, the paint will mix instantly no matter how carefully you try to keep this from happening.

So what exactly is frisket? Without getting into the actual chemical composition, it’s basically natural latex and ammonia. The label on my bottle says do not take internally and avoid contact with the eyes. Based on the odor—strong, with a whiff of ammonia—I will heed the warning.

Natural latex, as I found out with some more Googling, comes from—exudes was the word they used—the Hevea Brasiliensis tree, which, I assume, grows in Brazil. It’s flexible and has "unique molding abilities."

You can apply frisket with a paint brush (not one of your good sable ones, though, as it ruins them) or a nib. A nib is a handy little thing, sort of like a pencil but with plastic rather than lead. Anyway, you can apply frisket with it, too; maybe I’ll blog about it someday.

So, I’ve used frisket on a couple of paintings and it works just as advertised and keeps the watercolor from going where you don’t want it to go. When you’re done, you just peel it off in rubbery strings, and whatever you covered up with the frisket is ready to be painted or left alone.

What will they think of next?

Cheers!

Postcards of Small French Paintings

I just ran across a souvenir that had fallen between some art books on my bookshelf where they reside. I had forgotten I bought it on a trip to Washington, D.C. last year, but there it was wedged between a couple of large books I have on the Impressionists.

It’s a group of postcards. You know, the kind with a picture and you write a short phrase like, “wish you were here,” or something, and put a stamp on it and mail it. The postcards were bound together with glue on one end, so it’s more like a little book. But they are actual postcards that you could remove if you wanted to and write “having a great time,” or such on them and send them to someone. Today's Image is one of the postcards.

On the cover it even says in small type-- a book of postcards, and it’s entitled--Small French Paintings, National Gallery of Art, Washington--and published by Pomegranate Communications.

I remembered buying it at the gift shop, or whatever they called it, at the National Gallery of Art after a full day of viewing room after room of some of the greatest paintings in the world. As I recall the gift shop was not a counter or two tucked in a dark corner of the basement. No, it was a big, bright, well-lighted establishment that would have felt right at home in any high-end shopping district in the country (with prices to match as I also recall).

Anyway to stay within my budget, I found this neat little gift of full-color postcards. There are 30 of them altogether, and they are examples of some of the best small Impressionist paintings. The first page after the title page, and which is not a removable postcard, gives a very brief overview of the Impressionist era from the 1860s until around the turn of the century. The paintings of 20 Impressionists are included, and all are housed at the National Gallery of Art.

I was aware of the work of many of them, such as Corot, Degas, Manet, Monet, Morisot, Pissarro, Sisley, Renoir, Toulouse-Lautrec, and Seurat. Of equal interest to me were the ones with whom I was not so familiar; those include Bonnard, Carolus-Duran, Cazin, Daubigny (although I had heard of him), Fantin-Latour (I’d heard of him, too), Lepine, Redon, Tissot (that one sounded familiar), and Vuillard. These "new" names gave me a whole lot of new art to research.

Small seemed to be the key for getting your painting included in this collection. In this format, they are all postcard-size prints, of course. But of the actual paintings, the largest one included was Berthe Morisot’s The Sisters at 20.5 x 32 in/52 x 81 cm. The smallest was Edouard Manet’s At the Races at 5.1 x 8.6 in/12.6 x 21.9 cm.

By the way, the painting on the cover is Table Set in a Garden by Pierre Bonnard, c. 1908. I think I got a great deal on a collection of some of the best Impressionist paintings in the world that is easy to pick up and enjoy anytime. Thank you Pomegranate and National Gallery of Art. I plan to keep it out on the coffee table, though, so it won’t get lost on the bookshelf again.

Cheers!

About Cold Press and Hot Press Watercolor Paper (and More)

My "First" Watercolor on Arches Cold Press
Watercolor Paper, 300 lb.

After learning a little more about this myself, I thought I’d share information on the subject that many new and aspiring artists may find of interest, too.

What do the terms hot press and cold press refer to and what do they mean?

We’re talking paper here, and while not exclusively related to watercolor, the terms are usually used in the context of choosing a paper for that medium.

I'm no expert on the subject by any means, and there is a whole lot to learn and know about the paper(s) that artists use for their artwork—much more than can be covered in today’s blog. However, if this is something in which you have an interest, there is plenty of information out there in cyberspace for you to Google, so have at it.

First, a brief, brief overview of paper-making, which is summarized from the site, Paper University. Paper is primarily made from trees, which have cellulose fibers that are processed into paper. This is done by making pulp from wood chips, dehydrating the pulp on screens, and then heating and drying it on hot rollers or molds until, voila!, it turns into paper. A lot of fine art paper is also made from cotton, which I assume is a similar process. Paper can also have a coating applied, such as clay or polymer.

That said, here are a few of the hard, cold (and hot) facts on the subject I gleaned from the internet, on such sites as Watercolorist’s Answer Book:

• There are actually three types: cold press, hot press, and rough.
• The difference among the three has to do with the resulting texture after the paper-making process.
• Cold press paper has a good bit of texture (or “tooth”)—a good memory jogger is to think goosebumps for cold press.
• Hot press paper is relatively smooth—memory jogger-think about melting relative to hot press; a melted substance is smooth.
• Rough paper is really rough, even compared to cold press paper.
• Cold press is used for a wide variety of watercolor effects from washes to detail work.
• Hot press is primarily used for detail work due to its smooth finish.
• Beware, the texture of paper can vary from manufacturer to manufacturer—what’s considered smooth for one may be toothy by another—so you have to experiment.
• Paper is categorized and sold by weight (or thickness) in pounds (lb.) or grams/square meter (gsm).
• I did not know this!--what's referred to as the weight is actually the weight of 500 sheets (aka a ream) of that particular paper—you could drop this into a conversation and actually sound knowledgeable about the subject.
• The "standard" weight for cold press paper is 140 lb/300 gsm. and 300 lb/640 gsm.
• The "standard" weight for hot press paper is 140 lb/300 gsm.
• Paper is sold by the individual sheet or in blocks similar to a tablet but bound together.
• The "standard" sheet size of watercolor paper is 22 x 30 in/56 x 76 cm.

So there—in a nutshell, everything you need to know about watercolor paper.
Cheers!