STORY BEHIND THE ART OF MARY DILLON

25th Annual International

American Society of Botanical Artists and Wave Hill

Abundance

Punica granatum ‘Nana’

There is something about pomegranates—dripping with ripe promise, hanging heavily from a seemingly fragile hold, stubbornly maintaining a connection, until the trials and tribulations of the seasons pull them from their tenuous grip, or until they catch the eye of a gatherer, who relishes the prospect of the bounty within. It is no wonder that across cultures, the pomegranate is a symbol of fertility and plenty.

I’m fascinated by the notion of temporal change in the plant world. Every moment in the life cycle of a plant is just that, a moment in time; and even when it seems that all life has left the plant, changes continue. The dynamism of growth captivates me, from the sprouting of a seed to the last moment of change in color and form.

Connections are important to me as I paint. The story behind the plant, my cognitive connection with the scientific truth of the plant, and my emotional response in that first moment of inspiration—all come together in the space between each seed, each brushstroke.

This painting captures the pomegranates as I saw them, with one dangling precariously from the tree where I found them in El Poblenou, Barcelona, where I had been teaching. Clearly I find this subject irresistible, having painted them twice before. Their jewel-like seeds, glistening in the fruits as they hung from the tree, sang of bounty, abundance, and ripe generosity. Christmas, family and friends sitting around a table, and times of celebration and joy all come to mind. Don’t forget the taste! I love the sweet, sharp, zingy surprise when I bite into a pomegranate seed. Whether in a tagine, a salad, or a gin and tonic, it’s perfect.

My painting of pomegranates is one-and-a-half times life size. After completing numerous sketches in situ and taking color notes and photographs to record details, I began to work on the painting back in my home studio in Ireland. I worked through several compositional possibilities to reach my decision.

Painting the leaves was my greatest challenge. It took time, but eventually I relaxed into it. Painting the fruit was a joy. Working first with wet, free-flowing washes of color over damp paper allowed me to map out the colors I wanted to capture. I lost myself in the dance of the brush as it floated over the surface of the paper, releasing color when I chose to touch the paper. As I built the layers the movement of the brush became slower and more deliberate, while the consistency of paint also changed. The dampness of the paper eventually became what I refer to as “dryish,” and then dry. My process begins as a dance, a ballet, then becomes a swaying tango, with slower, gliding movements of brush and paint on paper. My brushstrokes then slow further to become like yoga movements. Finally, with the slow deliberation of drybrush, painting is almost a meditation.

I painted this work over many months in 2020, when life had changed for us all. Painting it brought me back to the warmth and color of pomegranate trees and to the warmth of people I’ve met in all the places where I’ve found pomegranates. Listening to stories of sickness and death on the radio, I was able to find resilience, hope, and solace as I worked in my studio. 

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Read more about this artist's work: 22nd Annual