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From the Garden, oil on canvas. Details here.

Lately I've been wondering if my gardening is motivated more by aesthetics (the desire to create a subject to paint) than the production of fruits & vegetables to eat. I am noticing a trend.

Over the next few months I'll be showing you paintings inspired by the garden and writing about the interaction between painting and gardening. Read on to learn how my garden produce inspires me to paint throughout winters such as this one with little snow to brighten the landscape for plein air painting.

My still life painting journey began in Tours, France during the rainy, dark, winter months of 2018-19. I set out to teach myself still life skills while appreciating French pastries, a happy pursuit. I started with an eclair and branched out to painting breads, cheeses, fruits and vegetables. (You can read more about this in "Why Still LIfe Painting.")

My apartment in Tours, set up for studying still life. Tours, winter 2019

Touraine is known as the “garden of France” and stunning gardens, from community (or workers’) gardens to chateau gardens, are easy to find.

Workers' Gardens (Jardins Ouvrièrs), Tours

With so many gardens and farms nearby, it was easy to find still life subjects at the farmers’ markets near my apartment. (As an aside, it was also wonderful living without a car.)

Returning from farmers' market, Tours, 2019

Here are a few still life paintings from those months:

Millefeuille and Oranges, oil painting (sold).

Baguette and Cheese, oil painting (sold)

After a winter of painting indoors, spring came and I was back outdoors, painting flax fields and then poppy fields. (See "Inspiration from French Fields of Blue.")

Leaving France at the end of the spring was made easier by having the home gardening season to look forward to. When I got home I planted seeds from France, including the colorful potimarron. Its bright orange color and unique shape is hard to resist as a still life subject and as a tasty soup.

Potimarron my home garden, ready to harvest

Potimarron & Onion, oil on canvas. Available. Details here. 

Potimarron & Onion, oil on canvas (sold)

Last winter, even though I couldn’t go to France in person, I “took myself to France” by painting a scene of my former kitchen counter in Tours. The red, orange, and dark green tomatoes had been a gift from my friends Annie and Christiane, whose beautiful and prolific garden is a place I’ve enjoyed visiting over the years.

Annie’s Tomatoes, oil on canvas. Details here.

Feeling a connection with the still life objects I paint is key to keeping my interest and energy going throughout the process. I planted two pear trees about 15 years ago, but one didn't make it. To my amazement the surviving tree has flourished even though conventional wisdom is that one must have two for pollination. 

Here is a typical two or three days' harvest from the pear tree in my yard. Not bad, now that I've learned how to get to them before the squirrels do! 

Pears & Nuts, oil on canvas, 2019 (private collection)

Pears & Walnuts, oil painting, 2022 (sold).

Maybe you can see differences between these two paintings done four years apart. Art is a constant process of learning and growth.

Speaking of growth, the garlic and onions thrived during the hot and dry summer of 2022. In late summer I harvested the garlic and onions and set them in the mudroom for later use.

One winter morning I noticed the sun coming through the mudroom window at just the right angle, sparkling on the vegetables and creating a joyful scene. They onions and garlic seemed to be interacting, enjoying the sun and each other's company. What were they trying to communicate? I turned them around slowly, finding the best position for the stems and roots until I had an irresistible composition. I let go of my chores and started this still life immediately. 

From the Garden, oil painting. Details here.

A few days later, I painted more of the garlic using the light box (see below) for a different effect.

Garlic Harmony, oil on canvas. Details here.

Above: setting up the Garlic Harmony still life. The butternut squash supporting the light is also from the garden, but was rejected as a still life subject, at least on this day.

Currently I’m working on a painting with an antique watering can behind the garlic. There is something about that shade of green and the broken handle that make me think of the 1940s. Perhaps it was used to water a victory garden?

Light is key to still life painting, so I try to use it to my advantage. I often use a crate with a hole drilled in it, a utility lamp, and pieces of cardboard to create shadows. I select objects that have meaning for me, with colors, shapes, and textures that work well together. 

What motivates me in the scene above is combining last year's harvest (garlic) with upcoming spring planting (watering can), the old and the new, the passage of time. These thoughts are also what inspire me when I paint outdoors, trying to capture the light and fleeting moments in time.

Still life painting is a wonderful way to enjoy winter. The process of painting and the paintings themselves allow us to contemplate past gardens and dream of gardens to come. 

Spring strawberries, beets, & endive. Summer 2022