It didn’t last long, only two years, and as inopportune as his death was I treasure those times we spent together in his studio in Little Havana.
Above: "Storm Coming, Dominica, Caribbean"
oil on canvas 25x30,1994
I met the master shortly before his death and he became a mentor, a tutor and I in exchange brought him to my home on Sundays for dinner where my daughters regaled him with the love of adopted grandchildren…he truly loved them.
I had never taken art classes but could draw from the time I was five. I went to Havana with my mother and upon my return I drew a very detailed, even with perspective, a drawing of our capitol. My grandfather commented: “this child is talented; he is a natural born artist and will be heading for San Alejandro Fine Arts College”
I never got there because Castro came into power just as I finished high school and went into an unwanted exile with my parents. My art took a back seat to 
other endeavors like learning the English language. I did take drafting in high school and that was the extent or as close as I ever got to drawing again.
Out of college and married with two children, I took up painting as a hobby. My ex-wife was very critical of this endeavor even begrudging any money I would spend on canvass and paint. But then I met Franz at a funeral of all places…when I worked for a funeral home and we began to talk and he mentioned that he was a painter. I told him that it was my hobby and he invited me to come and visit.
That started a long and beautiful friendship that led me to having the privilege of being taught by the master. Amazingly enough, it was not landscapes he was teaching me…he was instructing me in the skills of portraiture…and to this day I still haven’t mastered it. But I did become very proficient at landscapes after I would see him paint some of the latter paintings of the Everglades that he did...perhaps these were his last.
I did pose for him a few times and I still have a portrait he did of me in pastels. (Shown here)
The man was a remarkable person…perhaps a bit cantankerous and eccentric but fascinating nevertheless. He had an uncanny resemblance to Ernest Hemingway and I wish I had a photograph of him but I did the best I could in finding one that resembled him. (Shown here)
Some of the master’s work:
| This biography from the Archives of AskART: | | The following information, submitted June 2010, is from Kay Story.
My relationship with Franz Joseph is second cousin once removed. I could not write a formal biography of him, but I can tell you that he was very nice and fun and enthusiastic. He and his sister lived together after his mother died. His sister, Reeves, was sweet and wonderful. She outlived him by many years, and therefore became the focus of our attention because she was then alone then.
Reeves and Joe loved their dogs and when I was given many of the remaining family photographs, I noticed that there were lots of photos of beloved dogs with various family members. My sister has a painting that Joe did of his favorite dog. I know that there were times when he struggled because paintings were not selling.
I think he taught high school in Miami Beach during some of those years. I don't think he taught art there. He also had painting students who came to his house. His sister was, very likely, his chief financial support. She was a bookkeeper for a car dealership in Miami.
I think his family moved to Florida early in his life. I don't know the motivation for that move, but I know that they must have visited their southern Illinois relatives at times, because my mother, born in 1911, had been interested in painting, and "Joe" came to her parents home Marion, Illinois to give her a painting lesson in their kitchen. It seems to me, that Reeves told me that they lived in Ft. Lauderdale before they lived in Miami.
I know that Joe liked to sing and that he was part of various church choirs at times in his life. I thought he was an Anglophile as he was obsessed with talking about the proper church of England. In truth, he may have been trying to keep my mother from urging him to attend her church. Reeves attended a Presbyterian Church faithfully for many years.
Reeves, Joe's sister, was a member of the D.A.R. Their connection to that may have been through Cas. C. Russell, the maternal grandfather of Joe and Reeves.
Joe and Reeves were frequent visitors to our home when I was growing up in Miami. (We moved there when I was 9) My grandmother came to visit us each winter, and she knew that she had a first cousin in the Miami area somewhere. I don't remember if she found Maude before Maude died, but she definitely located her two children, Reeves and Joe. Once found, we visited them in their home and, more frequently, they came to ours.
Everything in the house seemed ancient to me. Joe used the house as
a studio, so I don't really remember a dining room or living room because it was all art studio. Reeves and Joe each had their own bedrooms, and the kitchen was recognizable as a kitchen and separate room. All else was a mass of things that had probably been moved to Florida with their parents, except for the canvas and paint and dogs.
Joe did my portrait when I was 18. It was a gift to my parents from Joe and Reeves.
My friend, Karen Huguet went with me for the three or so sittings at Joe's house. There was an ironing board set up in the middle of the house, and my friend ironed their clothes while she waited for me to be finished. Joe loved that and was very grateful. The painting was looking a lot like me until I passed along a comment from my mother. The comment may have been something like, "tell him not to paint your bangs hanging down in your eyes." My mother was probably just expressing frustration with me wearing my bangs too long. She was a "hair dresser", "beautician", and hair was ever on her mind. She and I, foolishly, thought it an innocent "motherly" comment. Unfortunately, Joe was upset by my repeating this comment. He became emotional and frustrated and, likely fearful of a critical reception to his generous gift. I think he lost all interest in painting me after that, and the painting never looked like me again after that day.
Once at a family gathering at my parents’ home I looked into the dining room and observed my mother's oldest brother in conversation with Joe across the table. I think I gasped in surprise as I noticed for the first time that they had identical profiles, though they looked different in full face. They were second cousins who shared not the same grandparents, but the same great grandparents, Albert Patterson Reeves and Elizabeth Catherine Emerson, both born in 1831.
I had left Miami after college and only saw Joe and Reeves on the once per year trip home. Later I moved to central Florida, but I still saw them infrequently.
Joe died after my father did, and I think the last conversation that I had with him he was disappointed that I had not thought to save a pair of pliers for him from my father's tool collection.
He died during heart surgery not too long after that. The following paintings are my own and reflect the great influence Franz Bolinger had on me.
   
| | | | |
I met the master shortly before his death and he became a mentor, a tutor and I in exchange brought him to my home on Sundays for dinner where my daughters regaled him with the love of adopted grandchildren…he truly loved them. 
other endeavors like learning the English language. I did take drafting in high school and that was the extent or as close as I ever got to drawing again. 
That started a long and beautiful friendship that led me to having the privilege of being taught by the master. Amazingly enough, it was not landscapes he was teaching me…he was instructing me in the skills of portraiture…and to this day I still haven’t mastered it. But I did become very proficient at landscapes after I would see him paint some of the latter paintings of the Everglades that he did...perhaps these were his last. 
I did pose for him a few times and I still have a portrait he did of me in pastels. (Shown here)
