The First Nature Morte I Attempted
In my thirties, while still practicing law, I learned of an emigre from Soviet Georgia who painted with lush color and vigorous line, and lived in a nearby suburb. Most of my prior artwork had been black line-drawings. Color terrified me, but I felt I needed to try it. Through a mutual friend, I arranged Saturday morning oil lessons with Otari Shiuk (short for Shiukishvili).
He couldn’t speak English and of course I couldn’t speak Russian, but we could communicate a smidge. Me, timidly, pointing at one of his portraits: “I want to paint portraits”. Him, with utter incredulity: “Must crawl before run! Nature morte!!”
My least favorite thing at the time was still life, but I was in no position to object. He set up a simple tableau on his back porch: a dark red apple, a deep purple eggplant and a brown pottery pitcher, all on a reflective white porcelain table backed by a white handkerchief, hanging sail-like from a red brick wall.
He gestured that I should paint it. I’ll continue the tale next time — but I’m sure you can imagine the ensuing scene without much more explanation! By the way, the picture above is a poor crop from an out-of-focus photo. Will try to do a better one later.
