Artists’ Artists: Cinga Samson on Jan van Huysum

I want to talk about a painting of Jan van Huysum’s that I’ve looked at for years. It’s called Still Life with Flowers and Fruit. I think it was created around 1715. It’s in a book that I’ve always had open in my studio – every time I walk in, I see it. Here, you’re seeing an artist who, all his life, was devoted to creating paintings; his father was a painter, his brothers were painters, and they did still lifes. But out of all his family members, he alone got to a point where he was really, truly able to transcend and create a painting that moves from what it is ‘about’ to become something much more powerful than mere representation.

In Van Huysum, I see an artist who has used light – not just light coming in, but light that he himself has created – out of his desperation to create the image. Every small corner he has painted with so much care. He was so secretive that he wouldn’t even allow his brothers in the studio. He wouldn’t allow anyone in the studio. A simple explanation is that he was guarding his technique in some way. But I think it was more than just that. This is somebody who really loved what he was doing. I think he also knew it would be something we would go back to when he was gone, because it took so much time to create.

The painting is small, but his approach to it was to create something monumental. And that influenced me, that thinking, you know? The way he plays with how gentle he can be, but at the same time how daunting the whole thing could be in terms of weight and the deep darkness in it.

To me, as a painter, I think he was really amazed by looking at fruit and flowers. You can tell he was truly captured. But there was also an understanding: ‘I can use this; I can exaggerate it a little bit.’ He’s not just painting nature as is, there’s a very designed element to his work: in the way we understand composition, it’s well balanced. You can see the competition between the flowers, the fruit, that leaf, that plant: the way he gives them different tones so that they can give way to each other. There are moments when you see a flower lit up behind the shadow of a leaf. These concerns create a standard. So, for me, when I make my own work, I look at these powerful artists and I hold myself to the same standards.

In the 1990s, they used to sell prints door-to-door of religious figures by classical painters. They sold curtains, cutlery, feather dusters, brooms and prints. My older brother once said to me, ‘You’re an artist.’ But I really hated the idea, seeing the men selling those prints having such a hard time getting their money. But that’s how I came across art, those were my first images. They were beautiful.

I’m seeing an artist who has used light – it’s not just light coming in, it’s also light that he himself has created.

I find it very interesting, as a painter, as an artist, that I have to confront this: what do you do when these great artists have created such monumental works, such exquisite paintings? One, you learn. You learn but you try to understand what you are learning from, and the way to think. It’s not a situation of just taking it and applying it to your work. We see how Van Huysum has been very sensitive, very fragile, but also how he has balanced all of that to create something very strong: the visual impact of it is very strong and not anything we can point to in this world, it’s something beyond. It’s like meeting a bit of God. And it surpasses everything else; everything compared to this becomes nonsense.

_{Main image: Jan van Huysum, Still Life with Flowers and Fruit, c.1715, oil on panel, 79 × 61 cm. Courtesy: Patrons’ Permanent Fund and Gift of Philip and Lizanne Cunningham}