- Email: [email protected]
Susan Abbott(b. 1951)
A BOUT T HE COV ER
Still Life in Costa Rica (1997) / Susan Abbott (b. 1951) Suzanne Scott and Lynne M. Constantine
For a painter, watercolor is a most unforgiving medium. Unlike with oil or acrylic, when a watercolor brush loaded with pigment floats across paper to make a mark, little can be done to alter the result. The artist must anticipate where the bright whites of the paper should be left untouched and must lay down color with precision if the painting is to appear fresh and not overworked. The technical challenges of watercolor are so immense that many watercolorists choose a soft, loose, abstract style over a more realistic style. Not Susan Abbott. The body of work she has created over her 20-year career as a watercolorist is virtually photorealistic. Abbott’s tabletop still-life compositions teem with luscious fruit that pops from the paper, inviting a taste, while reflections in a glass tease the eye with welldefined, shimmering shapes. Still Life in Costa Rica offers such a feast of details exquisitely observed and carefully rendered. Perhaps the most distinctive aspect of Abbott’s work is her use of aerial perspective, as in Still Life in Costa Rica. Aerial perspective appeals to her,
Abbott said, because it allows her to achieve a paradoxical combination of pleasing abstraction and solid reality. “Nothing is camouflaged with shadow,” she noted, “and all of the objects in each painting are painted life-sized.” According to Washington Post reviewer Ferdinand Protzman, each of Abbott’s tabletop paintings establishes a “faux autobiographical narrative that leads the viewer all over the picture, then leaves them to draw their own conclusions.”1 Abbott agreed that her paintings are narratives, although she insisted that she is asking questions with her imagery rather than telling a story: “Whose table is this?” “Why are these particular objects combined?” “Is there meaning in their juxtaposition?” In Still Life in Costa Rica, the details of the canvas are rich with questions and possibilities. Abbott’s chosen objects suggest the routine of someone living alone. The remains of a cup of tea, a barely touched plate of fruit, an opened airmail letter, a picture postcard, and a handwritten journal bring to mind a solitary breakfast. Playing
Susan Abbott, American. Still Life in Costa Rica, 22
816
Journal of the American Pharmaceutical Association
×
cards—perhaps the remains of a game of solitaire, since the visible cards are sequential— are strewn about. The game’s disarray, and the single plum that balances precariously near the edge of the Wedgwood bowl, suggest a sudden event that broke the mood of languid, opulent leisure. Each detail adds to the mystery and opens new possibilities. If the painted scene is in Costa Rica, as the title suggests, then why is the opened letter addressed to Vermont? Is this scene in fact in Vermont? Might the title have a very different meaning after all—suggesting that, in contrast to the still life of the painted scene, there is “still life” in Costa Rica? Are the pink-and-white blossoms reminiscent of a lush landscape immediately out-of-doors—or painfully far away? To counterbalance this postmodern whirl of indeterminate and interlocking stories, the work itself has an exquisite sense of order based in traditional painterly craft. Strong compositional lines are the most important elements, pulling the painting’s disparate elements together in surprising ways. The dark, intricately patterned tablecloth forms a strong diagonal across most of the right side of the picture plane, leaving a wedge of pastel light that contrasts sharply with the dark diagonal across the bottom of the picture. The plant’s blossoming tendrils form a right-to-left diagonal, with the richly hued plums peeking from beneath the white flowers. Although she paints from
life, Abbott does not set up a composition ahead of time. “I have a visual idea in my head, and some gesture sketches and color studies to help guide the development of a large piece,” she wrote.2 “But I don’t know what the completed still life will look like until the painting is finished.” Such a process is especially challenging with watercolor. Abbott corrects her compositions not by adjusting what she has already painted but by adding some contrast or a complement in another part of the painting. Although other artists might find such accretive methods daunting, Abbott likes the flexibility. “I am able to compose a whole bouquet using one or two flowers as models, or invent a fabric or rug pattern if I need a design that I don’t have in my textile collection.” Susan Abbott grew up in Washington, D.C., and earned her MFA from the Maryland Institute College of Art. Her career as an artist has been packed with solo exhibitions, group shows, awards, and fellowships. She resides in Vermont and leads workshops for beginning and advanced artists. Suzanne Scott and Lynne M. Constantine are writers and artists living in Arlington, Va.
References 1. Protzman F. A watercolorist puts her talents on the table. Washington Post, April 8, 1999; C5. 2. Contemporary American Women Artists. San Rafael, Calif: Cedco Publishing; 1991: 30.
30 , 1997, watercolor. Used by permission of the artist.
September/October 2002
Vol. 42, No. 5
Still Life in Costa Rica (1997) / Susan Abbott (b. 1951) Suzanne Scott and Lynne M. Constantine
For a painter, watercolor is a most unforgiving medium. Unlike with oil or acrylic, when a watercolor brush loaded with pigment floats across paper to make a mark, little can be done to alter the result. The artist must anticipate where the bright whites of the paper should be left untouched and must lay down color with precision if the painting is to appear fresh and not overworked. The technical challenges of watercolor are so immense that many watercolorists choose a soft, loose, abstract style over a more realistic style. Not Susan Abbott. The body of work she has created over her 20-year career as a watercolorist is virtually photorealistic. Abbott’s tabletop still-life compositions teem with luscious fruit that pops from the paper, inviting a taste, while reflections in a glass tease the eye with welldefined, shimmering shapes. Still Life in Costa Rica offers such a feast of details exquisitely observed and carefully rendered. Perhaps the most distinctive aspect of Abbott’s work is her use of aerial perspective, as in Still Life in Costa Rica. Aerial perspective appeals to her,
Abbott said, because it allows her to achieve a paradoxical combination of pleasing abstraction and solid reality. “Nothing is camouflaged with shadow,” she noted, “and all of the objects in each painting are painted life-sized.” According to Washington Post reviewer Ferdinand Protzman, each of Abbott’s tabletop paintings establishes a “faux autobiographical narrative that leads the viewer all over the picture, then leaves them to draw their own conclusions.”1 Abbott agreed that her paintings are narratives, although she insisted that she is asking questions with her imagery rather than telling a story: “Whose table is this?” “Why are these particular objects combined?” “Is there meaning in their juxtaposition?” In Still Life in Costa Rica, the details of the canvas are rich with questions and possibilities. Abbott’s chosen objects suggest the routine of someone living alone. The remains of a cup of tea, a barely touched plate of fruit, an opened airmail letter, a picture postcard, and a handwritten journal bring to mind a solitary breakfast. Playing
Susan Abbott, American. Still Life in Costa Rica, 22
816
Journal of the American Pharmaceutical Association
×
cards—perhaps the remains of a game of solitaire, since the visible cards are sequential— are strewn about. The game’s disarray, and the single plum that balances precariously near the edge of the Wedgwood bowl, suggest a sudden event that broke the mood of languid, opulent leisure. Each detail adds to the mystery and opens new possibilities. If the painted scene is in Costa Rica, as the title suggests, then why is the opened letter addressed to Vermont? Is this scene in fact in Vermont? Might the title have a very different meaning after all—suggesting that, in contrast to the still life of the painted scene, there is “still life” in Costa Rica? Are the pink-and-white blossoms reminiscent of a lush landscape immediately out-of-doors—or painfully far away? To counterbalance this postmodern whirl of indeterminate and interlocking stories, the work itself has an exquisite sense of order based in traditional painterly craft. Strong compositional lines are the most important elements, pulling the painting’s disparate elements together in surprising ways. The dark, intricately patterned tablecloth forms a strong diagonal across most of the right side of the picture plane, leaving a wedge of pastel light that contrasts sharply with the dark diagonal across the bottom of the picture. The plant’s blossoming tendrils form a right-to-left diagonal, with the richly hued plums peeking from beneath the white flowers. Although she paints from
life, Abbott does not set up a composition ahead of time. “I have a visual idea in my head, and some gesture sketches and color studies to help guide the development of a large piece,” she wrote.2 “But I don’t know what the completed still life will look like until the painting is finished.” Such a process is especially challenging with watercolor. Abbott corrects her compositions not by adjusting what she has already painted but by adding some contrast or a complement in another part of the painting. Although other artists might find such accretive methods daunting, Abbott likes the flexibility. “I am able to compose a whole bouquet using one or two flowers as models, or invent a fabric or rug pattern if I need a design that I don’t have in my textile collection.” Susan Abbott grew up in Washington, D.C., and earned her MFA from the Maryland Institute College of Art. Her career as an artist has been packed with solo exhibitions, group shows, awards, and fellowships. She resides in Vermont and leads workshops for beginning and advanced artists. Suzanne Scott and Lynne M. Constantine are writers and artists living in Arlington, Va.
References 1. Protzman F. A watercolorist puts her talents on the table. Washington Post, April 8, 1999; C5. 2. Contemporary American Women Artists. San Rafael, Calif: Cedco Publishing; 1991: 30.
30 , 1997, watercolor. Used by permission of the artist.
September/October 2002
Vol. 42, No. 5