In the spingtime just past, I had this project I imagined curating with all the Iris available in the neighborhood: foraging some and placing them in a antiqued milk pitcher of sorts and photographing it in the spirt of - trying to channel some energy - Van Gogh's "Vase with Irises." When I came accross the work one day, it just struck me: "what are the similarities of our worlds if we each have Iris available in such abundance that we cut them, put them in a vase, and attempt to make representations of the arrangement created?"
This soon lead me to ordering a book on Van Gogh's "complete works," which I first opened one morning at breakfast. What I was looking for was almost a sense of what I see today - where we might imagine Van Gogh as first and formost a floral designer and gardener who struggled to articulate his work through painting representations. Secondly, I was curious. What might we think of in terms of the history of plants and gardening by what Van Gogh had available in the landscape around him.
All this tonight as I was going to write a short essay on value. But as I sat here, all of a sudden I was overcome by a certain romatic feeling, a nostalgia for something I was feeling in the springtime. I looked up to my shelf and the book stared at me. I started leafing through and came accross "Bulb Fields" (1833).
Landscape designer and Proprietor of Buffalo Horticulture