The Arts - Study in Contrast

A Select Look at Santa Fe Arts, Crafts, Tastes and Styles

The Arts
Study in Contrast
With dynamic treatment of opposites, Robert A. Johnson gives new meaning to the term "Still Life."

By Suzanne Deats

Still life painting has a long and honored history. Within its discipline is the widest imaginable range of viewpoints, philosophies, and concerns. Much is conveyed by composition and lighting. The objects chosen for the scene reveal even more.

Robert A. Johnson is one of the more thoughtful still life painters. His treatment of opposites, such as light and dark or delicate and massive, sets up a dynamic interplay that excites the mind more than a simple decorative arrangement would.

Johnson's studies of contrasts might include the swift upward motion of a budding spring branch in a counterpoint to a spent and fallen flower, or a combination of strong complementary colors, or a juxtaposition of the precious and the commonplace. "There has to be a bit of polarity," he observes. "Putting all these visuals at opposite poles gives the painting interest and power."

His compositions are formal, dignified, yet warmly human. He arranges them with a sensitive yet light hand, so the picture seems to breathe. The objects are spotlighted on the neutral background as if on a stage infusing them with drama. He controls his light carefully, setting up one strong source and screening out the rest. This provides a momentary quality, belying the hours that are spent in the painting.

Incidents such as an overturned vessel lend movement and possibility. Johnson arranges his own flowers, choosing garden blooms over commercial ones. He relies on intuition, generating metaphors in the placement of aging blossoms whose fresh beauty has passed, or of bursting buds that reflect the thrill of youth. "If the process is successful," he explains, "it will accomplish a microcosm of life."

He believes that still life should have a dominant mood, a certain feeling that makes him want to paint. If that excitement is not present, he comes up with something else. He chooses his objects just as carefully, and is often attracted to Oriental vessels because of their pure beauty.

Johnson's formal education was rather typical initially, but soon he found his true calling. Thereafter, he studied at the Art Students League in New York, like a long line of distinguished painters including William Merritt Chase and Robert Henri. He developed a love of drawing, at which he excels, and has since produced a canon of oils that are in collections all over the United States and abroad.

He learned the most meticulous handling of materials. Whether working on Masonite or linen, he follows the old-fashioned method of putting down successive layers of rabbit-skin glue and white lead, sanding and smoothing in between. He takes a great deal of pride in knowing that his paintings are absolutely sound because he went through every phase of preparation himself.

Earlier this year, he taught a course in drawing and anatomy at the Arts Students League. It went over well, with people coming up to him after class and expressing appreciation for how much they had learned. The most exciting part, however, was to see his name added to the permanent catalog of teachers, occupying a page with Chase, Henri, and other famous artists. "I was honored to be part of that great line," he acknowledges. It had much meaning because all art experience is important to him.

Johnson's studies have given him a keen appreciation of art history. Of early masters, he is especially drawn to Velazquez, Rembrandt, and Hals. "Art history is an index of a culture's attitudes toward beauty, philosophy, and time itself," he points out. "Artists once had a different concept of time. It had less to do with billable hours than with learning their craft well and doing what needed to be done. The Russians spent six years at the academy. Americans traveled overseas for four or five years with foreign teachers. Chase studied in Munich for six years, and was offered a professorship. Back then, they learned to draw. They learned about materials and the language of painting. Only then could they call themselves painters. Once you had that training, then you could express your own individuality. Now, we're not imbued with the necessity to take that time."

He exhibits his work in several galleries around the country, notably Meyer Gallery in Santa Fe. On October 6, he will open a two-person show with Raymond Knaub, a landscape painter. Although Johnson paints landscapes and figures as well, his part of this exhibition will primarily be still life to furnish a balance.

Floral still life is painting is, after all, his best known achievement. Several years ago, for instance, he entered a nationwide contest sponsored by The Artist's Magazine and won first place in that category.

The magazine remarked about the winner: "The entire span of existence is captured in Robert A. Johnson's first-place painting, 'Dahlia's in a Copper Pot.'" The oil depicts a teapot overflowing with heavy headed, late-summer flowers." Johnson further illuminated the subject, stating, "Some of these flowers are fully blossomed, some are just opening, some are already losing their petals. In one way, I suppose, it's a metaphor for life."

He seems to have found many other ways of expressing this metaphor for life as well. Objects are poised in certain vital relationships to one another. Reflections dance back and forth, and colors from one place crop up in another. Light plunges softly into the deep background only to emerge elsewhere.

It is an instant in time, and it lives. Robert A. Johnson goes for a deeper reality. It is still life, still life. He gives new meaning to the term.