Roses by Louise van Vliet-Templeton

If you have been attracted by the reality of the roses painted by Maria Johanna Smit then you should see the one’s that she hasn’t yet painted! What I mean by that is simply that having created her very own version of perfection within the world of ‘fijn schilderen’, Maria Johanna has no plan to fix either her vision or herself in a rigid still life.
Just as the beauty of a rose changes from day to day, so too do her painted roses appear about to open further or even fade in colour and start to lose their petals. Commentary about fine painting often includes phrases such as, ‘it looks so real that you think that you could pick the cherry off of the plate’. With these roses the opposite has been achieved – fragility. The difference between true art and a skilled copyist must be this ability to make the viewer want to play games with their own mind; letting the mind free to defy the reality of what you know that you are looking at and entering into the alternative reality of the artist.
Judges in Horticultural Shows have the assignment to look for and ‘weed-out’ the imperfections amongst the flowers that they have been asked to judge. The artist on the other hand revels in the mystical beauty of the same imperfections and if truly sighted (in the sixth sense), presents that beauty to us in order that we too have the chance to glimpse ( if only fleetingly ) her own true vision. If a tree grows crooked then it is still always true to nature – a year of drought, lack of sunlight, few minerals in the soil; all impact the possibility to grow tall and straight. The twisted, stunted form of an island tree fits perfectly into the setting in which it grows. By definition it is perfect in nature. In human terms it is an abberation of what it could have been under better conditions. With an artists’ eye we are given the chance to see it differently. It is not our human understanding of biology that helps us to see the beauty.
Each living thing, no matter how delicate, has its own strength. What is so touching about these paintings is that they too have a sort of living energy. The term ‘still life’ when interpreted literally implies that what you are looking at still has life. Still has contact with the living.
The ‘Constance Spry’ rose of Maria Johanna asks you to cup its beautiful head in your hands and to smell its powdery sweet scent of summer as it wafts into your eager nostrils. The cool silken petals layer one on the other like the protective feathers of a brooding hen and deserve our gentleness and respect to prevent them from being crushed and bruised.
How easy it would be for Maria Johanna to become a famous painter of small things. The perfection however is just the first step of a long and colourful journey. Who knows what will happen when the roses mature, when the microscopic brush strokes expand and the world of the rose becomes a source of energy for those searching for their own sight.
Next time you view one of the rose paintings of Maria Johanna at an exhibition, don’t forget to look down – maybe one of the petals have already fallen on the floor, feel free to take that vision with you.

Written by Louise van Vliet-Templeton
May 2006