Conventional wisdom holds that different parts of the brain govern physics research and delicate watercolor brushstrokes. You're either a scientist or an artist but generally not both.

David Martin melded the two. For 26 years, he taught physics at N.C. State University and sharpened his environmental credentials at the same time. As a hobby, he created and sold Oriental-style watercolors, flowing with gauzy, graceful hues, and instructed others in how to do it, too.

Martin died Dec. 12 of complications from Alzheimer's disease. He was 85 and sold his paintings until five years ago.

Martin's painting began as a hobby. Ruth Green, who started Little Art Gallery and Craft Collections in 1968, remembers Martin as one of the first artists to show in her shop at North Hills Mall. When the gallery moved to Cameron Village, Martin came along. His work was easy to recognize; his were the tranquil boat scenes washed by waves, the masts of the boats cut off.

"Why?" asked one customer. Martin responded that he was emulating one of the Old Masters; if it was good enough for a master, it was good enough for him.

Quiet and refined, Martin didn't boast about his talent as an artist. Often, contemporaries in one facet of his life knew little about his other pursuits.

"I learned later on he was a physicist," Green said. "This was merely his hobby."

Green took lessons from him in Oriental watercolor technique. Martin painted on very thin paper, mixing his watercolors with water so that his paints were transparent. If you didn't know what you were doing, if you added too much water to the paint, the paper would shrivel.

Once, in class, Martin demonstrated a boat scene to his students, then daubed two little lines on the canvas, a mere suggestion of bird wings.

"We all tried it, but it didn't come out looking like that," Green said.

Environmental work

Gradually, boats as the focus of Martin's painting yielded to landscapes. It was a reflection of Martin's increased interest in the environment, which evolved in a roundabout way.

After earning a master's degree in physics, Martin continued his studies at the Oak Ridge School of Reactor Technology in Tennessee. From there, he went to California, where he worked on developing a nuclear airplane. It was an idea that never took off.

With his background in nuclear technology, it made sense that Martin would pay close attention when CP&L proposed building nuclear power plants nearby. As he learned more about the plans, he grew disenchanted.

Eventually, he became one of the proposal's vocal opponents.

In the 1970s and 1980s, Martin was a leader in the state environmental community. He drew attention to what he saw as unsafe nuclear power plant designs, and he brought his expertise to bear, advocating for energy efficiency and renewable energy.

"Things are exactly the same 30 years later, aren't they?" said Bill Holman, whom Martin hired to be the Conservation Council of North Carolina's lobbyist in the legislature in 1979. It was the first post-college job for Holman, who is now a senior fellow at the Nicholas Institute for Environmental Policy Solutions at Duke University.

Martin didn't picket, but he acted as a technical expert, filing testimony with the federal Nuclear Regulatory Commission about Shearon Harris nuclear power plant.

"He was unassuming, a scientist who was comfortable talking to a lay audience," Holman said.

David Hamilton Martin was born in Easley, S.C., in 1922. He met his wife, Betty, at a church group for young adults during his time in California researching nuclear aviation.

They wed in 1956 and moved to Raleigh two years later, lured by a teaching position for Martin at N.C. State.

Once in North Carolina, Martin got interested in land conservation, buying property in Watauga County on Snake Mountain. He and his wife spent the summers there, and each August, the board of the Conservation Council gathered at the site for a meeting. Banish any visions of luxury condos; a couple of camping trailers was about the extent of it. "Calling it a cabin is a little generous," Holman said.

There was an outdoor privy and no plumbing to speak of. That's just how Martin liked it.

Many couples would use a 50th wedding anniversary as an excuse to take a lavish trip.

Martin and his wife chose to celebrate in 2006 on Snake Mountain. With no electricity, dinner by candlelight was not optional.

That was the last time Martin made it there.

David Martin is survived by his wife, three daughters and four grandchildren.

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