To fool the eye

Who cannot be fascinated by trompe l'oeil? (And who can actually pronounce it? In our family, it's only JT). I've seen pictures of restaurant murals that appear to be real French doors, opening onto a Provence patio with lavender fields beyond -- and known that the kind of precision needed to produce this exactitude is not my thing.

But recently I've made an overdue acquaintance with Zeuxis, the ancient Greek artist whose painting of grapes was so realistic that birds zoomed in for a taste. And because summer camp is all about doing things spontaneously, I decided to fool around.

I planned to imaginatively insert a window above my studio door and place some empty glassware on its sill. I made some preliminary drawings to plan the size and to get an idea of the reflections.

I knew that for realism's sake, I'd need to make templates next, with
each object carefully structured on a vertical midline.

By the time I started placing shapes in the "window" I had solidly reaffirmed my belief that trompe l'oeil is not my thing. Way too much fiddliness is required to square things up.

Here's the finished piece, which is not going to fool anyone, birds or humans.
My sidewalk superintendant observes that the effect might be somewhat more convincing if the window were placed...well, where a window might actually be. Another plausibility factor, I'd say, is that the surrounding wall needs to be much darker than the light of the "sky." I'm not about to repaint the studio...though it might do wonders for the plaster wall of our 95-year-old house.

Happy NABIS DAY!

I saw a tattered handbill on a lightpost and it took me back to a hot day last July. On this very pole, from the same bus, I'd spotted it (in a more intact version) and its announcement of NABIS DAY. I was so excited! I have little enough in common with the young local artists of SoMa (the South Main area), but evidently they shared my enthusiasm for the early 20th century artists called The Nabis (said to mean "prophets" in Hebrew).

In our long-gone travelling days, JT and I saw a marvelous exhibit of les Nabis at the Grand Palais in Paris. I'm so glad he insisted that we splurge on the exhibit publication (adding another 10 pounds to our take-home luggage of French books and art supplies).


These artists resonate strongly with me -- particularly Bonnard for his gorgeous colours and Vuillard for the feel of his interiors and his use of patterns. One of my all-time favorite paintings is the latter's "Garden at Vaucresson" -- which stands seven feet high!

Some time after our trip, I couldn't resist playing with a much smaller version of garden tangle, with our cabin in the background and what we call "JT's Red Weed" in the starring role. Here's "Garden at Cloudburst," circa 2000.


Recently a simpatico friend, knowing my newfound enthusiasm for The Group of Seven, sent me a card with J.E.H. MacDonald's "Tangled Garden." Obviously, this is a deep-rooted (!) theme for me -- and not just because this year's wet weather has limited my weeding time and the yard is now a jungle. Maybe before summer's end, I'll make something more of all this, both in the garden and in the studio.

Oh, and meanwhile, back at NABIS DAY. That July morning last year when I hopped off the bus, I scooted back to check out the details. It turned out that the poster's corner had been torn off and what I hadn't been able to see from a distance was that it advertised a summer event sponsored by the Legalize Marijuana movement: CANNABIS DAY.