In the Gardens of Palazzo Pfanner
I began to see things differently; I didn’t see “flower”, “tree”, “pot”, or “wall”. I saw shapes, textures, contrasting color...
“It’s good to be aware when you find yourself in trouble that it's your own banging and clanking that is drowning out the quiet path that is there patiently waiting to show you the way.”
I found this comment recently when going through some early emails between Damon Falke and me. It was written around 2018 or 2019 during our nearly two-year collaboration for Between Artists. I must have been having trouble with a particular painting in the studio that day. As I was reading it, I was reminded of a day in 2017 when painting in a lovely villa garden in Lucca, Italy.
I was part of a painting workshop led by a wonderful painter and friend, Kat Ring. She had arranged a field trip to paint in the beautiful gardens of Palazzo Pfanner, a gorgeous villa in the historic walled part of the city of Lucca. The grounds were gorgeous, lovely manicured lawns, fruit trees, flowers, statues and fountains. Everything waiting to be painted. People were finding their spots and setting up, some had eagerly started painting. What was lacking for me was my own inspiration for what to paint. I am the first to admit I am not a plein air painter. I know it is a foundation of many a painter’s practice, but, it does not come naturally or easy for me. Nothing in that beautiful garden spoke to me.
In time, I set up my easel in a hidden corner away from the other artists. An ivy wall was in the background, with flowering plants and a potted blossoming lemon tree in the foreground. I wasn’t thrilled about the composition, but I did like the colors within the landscape and thought, what the heck, why not just do something abstract? So I started putting paint on the canvas randomly and with abandon. After a few minutes I began to see things differently; I slowed down and listened. I didn’t see “flower”, “tree”, “pot”, or “wall”. I saw shapes, textures, contrasting color. The space flattened and in this new quiet the painting started to take form. I went with the emotion of the scene before me and gradually the painting emerged on the canvas.
I had slowed down, quieted my critical voice, and allowed the painting to show me the way. It’s the only plein air painting I have ever done that I truly like, and it is one of my favorite paintings ever.
After over thirty years in Montana, contemporary painter Tabby Ivy now lives and works in Carlton, Oregon. Learn more about her painting practice and Between Artists, Life in Paintings and Prose, her book with Damon Falke, at www.tabbyivy.com.
If you enjoyed this post, hit the ♡ to let us know.
If it gave you any thoughts, please leave a comment.
If you think others would enjoy it, hit re-stack or share:
If you’d like to read more:
And if you’d like to help create more Juke, upgrade to a paid subscription (same button above). Otherwise, you can always help with a one-time donation via Paypal or Venmo.
I love abstracts like this, impressionistic, dancing with the light and shapes. It also appeals to my eyes which are getting blurrier by the day. That kind of world makes sense to my brain. Thank you for showing us this lovely masterpiece.
Tabby, I love this piece so much. Thank you. Hearing about your here, from the thinking to the doing, getting it on canvas, was great. First, it was great from a philosophical point of view - and the world could use a little book of sayings from Damon - but second, from a painterly aspect. Tonya and I are currently taking a beginner's class in oils and we have both loved it. To the point of planning to take some painting supplies with us on our next long trip. Anyway, thanks again, and I love this painting, as well.