Floral echoes: mcewen’s tulip and a century of botanical obsession

Don’t think flower paintings are stuffy. Rory McEwen’s ‘Tulip (Helen Josephine)’ at Kettle’s Yard is a jolt to the senses — a taste of strawberries, the velvet of petals beneath your fingertips. It’s an experience that transcends mere decoration, revealing a surprising depth of human emotion.

A legacy of delicate observation

McEwen’s lifelong fascination with plants is evident in every brushstroke. He wasn’t simply depicting flowers; he dissected them, altering their form with a scalpel and surgeon’s spectacles, driven by an almost obsessive need for precision. The result is a startlingly vibrant tulip, gleaming under the gallery lights, a testament to his meticulous approach.

The exhibition, ‘Handpicked,’ gathers over 40 artists, spanning from the early 20th century to the present, all united by a shared passion for the floral. It's a vibrant, unexpected collection, a kaleidoscope of styles and techniques, showcasing a century’s worth of exploration through blossoms. From the wild irises and lilies of Cedric Morris to Christopher Wood’s carefully arranged bouquets, and Vanessa Bell’s strikingly abstract still lifes, there’s a remarkable range on display.

But the true power of ‘Handpicked’ lies in its ability to layer meaning onto the seemingly simple act of painting flowers. Alison Watt’s ‘The Springtime of Flight’ – a single, drooping tulip – feels profoundly weighted, a poignant meditation on mortality and loss. It’s a direct echo of McEwen’s own piece, yet imbued with a far more somber resonance, referencing McEwen’s wife’s cancer diagnosis and his husband’s tragic death in a search-and-rescue mission.

Delphinium, by Celia Paul, is particularly arresting. The intense blues and smudged pastels speak of grief, of a Valentine’s Day shadowed by sadness. The artist’s hand, visible in the strokes, hints at a deeply personal experience – a stark reminder that even the most beautiful subjects can be intertwined with heartache. Gluck's ‘Convolvulus’ reveals a fascinating backstory, driven by a love affair with Constance Spry and a desire to provoke jealousy within her relationships. The tendrils, meticulously rendered, seem to reach out, almost pleading.

The exhibition isn’t just a display of pretty pictures; it’s a profound exploration of human experience, filtered through the lens of botanical beauty. It’s a challenging, rewarding experience, prompting reflection on themes of life, death, and the enduring power of art to capture fleeting moments of grace and vulnerability. A truly unforgettable collection.