The North Carolina Museum of Art's current exhibition, Still Life Masterpieces: A Visual Feast from the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, got me thinking about the myriad connections between art and gardening. Of course no gardens were on view; the show is about still life, so only inanimate (or once-but-no-longer-animate) objects make an appearance. It's beautiful to look at and just plain fun, especially the sidebar display by members of the North Carolina Garden Club. And it was surprisingly full of wisdom for the garden. Lesson One: Composition is king. Cézanne meticulously arranged his still life compositions in a quest for perfect balance and harmony. If he was dissatisfied with one arrangement of peaches and lemons, he would try another until he got it just right. A little of Cezanne's discipline would do me a world of good. The sad truth is, my garden has no governing principle. It began haphazardly and expanded opportunistically. Eight years later, my design philosophy is, "Where does this fit?" Time to grab a shovel and rearrange those peaches. Lesson Two: Focus. In this famous O'Keeffe, it all boils down to one gigantic sunflower. And isn't this exactly how we experience a sunflower? It's so overwhelming that it's all we see. Our minds edit out everything around it. I need to remember this painting the next time I visit a nursery. I have a bad habit of wanting every plant I come across, especially the ostentatious ones. Then I wind up with sensory overload. From now on, it's one focal point at a time. Lesson Three: The classics never go out of style. It's true for Renoir (despite the scoffing of art-world snobs), and it's true for these simple flowers. Honestly, are the latest zinnia and sunflower cultivars an improvement over the 1869 varieties? Let me put this another way. Is Echinacea "Double Decker" really necessary? Lesson Four: Adjust. Courbet painted these hollyhocks while in jail for revolutionary activities. Legend has it that he was hoping to paint landscapes from the prison roof but was denied permission. So he had his sister bring flowers and vases for still lifes instead. "When life gives you lemons" may be an oddly cheery take-away from the funereal Hollyhocks in a Copper Bowl. But gardeners train themselves to look on the bright side. Besides, I can appreciate great painting even as it reminds me that hollyhocks do poorly in central North Carolina, and that you're better off with something that doesn't mind heat and humidity. Work with what you have. Courbet did. Lesson Five: We are an infinitesimal speck in the universe, and don't you forget it. This may seem self-evident, but Gijsbrechts thought we needed reminding. Hence the skull, hourglass, burning candle, and other symbols of the transience of life, all pointing to the futility of human endeavors in the grand scheme of things. Gardeners know this well. ![]() “Luau” pitcher and set of eight cups, Minerware, Inc., New York, 1950-65, plastic (polyethylene), pitcher and lid: 9 ¼ x 7 ¼ x 5 ½ in., cup: 3 ¾ x 3 ½ in., Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Pitcher: Gift of Barbara McLean Ward and Gerald W. R. Ward, Cups: Gift of Brett Angell, Photograph © 2012 Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Lesson Six: That being the case, enjoy life while you can still haul those compost bags, and don't take yourself too seriously.
Still Life Masterpieces is on view through January 13.
16 Comments
12/28/2012 01:22:03 am
This is just a wonderful mix of beautiful art! Thank you so much for sharing! Love it! Really enjoyed this blog..... :-)
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12/28/2012 01:33:31 am
Thank you so much for visiting and commenting!
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12/28/2012 01:47:56 am
Loved the lessons! Isn't it great that we gardeners can find something related to gardening in everything? Even in a pineapple pitcher! :)
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12/28/2012 04:05:46 am
It's so true! That pineapple pitcher also makes me feel better about some of my kitschy yard art.
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12/28/2012 04:08:28 am
It's weird AND unnecessary. What has that poor flower done to deserve that?
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Anne Himmelfarb
12/28/2012 04:30:08 am
I loved all the art , and I thought the connections you made to gardening were very insightful.
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12/28/2012 05:37:00 am
When you're a hammer, everything looks like a nail!
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Jimmie Butts
12/28/2012 07:08:59 am
Thanks to a fellow docent. I was interested in observations and comments and as usual, such information. It is nice to share such on my tours and is always an asset to the visitors who see the show.
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12/28/2012 07:21:17 am
I appreciate your visiting my blog and commenting. I'm actually not a docent, but I am glad if you found anything here that might be useful on your tours!
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12/29/2012 02:00:02 am
Lesson 1 is the hardest -sometimes I feel it would be better to start from scratch.
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12/29/2012 08:35:06 am
What a delightful post; I love the connections you've made here between art and gardening. Of course, when I considered Lesson 1, I realized that it helps to have Cezanne's eye for composition. I've found that Mother Nature is generally better at this than I am and that my best compositions are accidental. I couldn't agree more about some of the new varieties of flowers. In Katharine S. White's first review of garden catalogues for the New Yorker in 1958, she groused about just this sort of thing: "Burpee, this year, devotes the inside front cover to full-color pictures of its Giant Hybrid Zinnias, which look exactly like great, shaggy chrysanthemums. Now I *like* chrysanthemums, but why should zinnias be made to look like them?" The more things change, the more they remain the same.
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12/29/2012 08:54:10 am
So even in 1958, they were making Frakenflowers? Somehow I thought they had better taste (and sense) back then. I'm all for improved drought hardiness, or improved mildew tolerance, etc. But some of the new varieties are just egregious.
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1/31/2013 06:29:44 am
That was an interesting exhibit. I love what you took away from it. I'm no gardener but those are lessons for life!
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1/31/2013 06:57:36 am
Thanks, Country Kibitzer. After reading (and listening to) your blog, I am sure I could find lessons for the garden in country music, too. I'll be on the lookout!
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AuthorThe Galloping Horse Gardener is a native New Yorker who packed it in in 2005 to live under the radar in Cary, North Carolina. In 2014, she removed to a new secure location somewhere in Raleigh. Archives
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