Shop in my Suitcase (Chapter 5 - Still life study)
- Pieter A. Pienaar
- Jul 18
- 5 min read
It is Saturday morning, 6:05, 18 July 2026, and I have a task to do. The nomadic observer, and that is myself I am referring to, has to write his last Shop in my Suitcase-post, which will focus on the art of arranging and painting a still life as he sees it. It seems that the still life as a theme faded from popular view or it is no longer part of the art buyers’ preferred list, as you will understand later from the “misery” I encountered.
For any person who is active in any field, there is an aha-moment when it dawns on you that you have already done something similar and you do not have to reinvent the wheel. I found “two wheels” in my archive. During the Covid-19 pandemic, when we all had to look within, I wrote 100 blogs about the art life, the way I experienced it. I found posts 11 and 97 and I was in heaven. Now, I simply have to create another “two wheels” and then I have a vehicle which could “drive” my ideas across this last bridge.
This self-inflicted writing challenge of six posts came about because of a new possibility or maybe future arts adventure that knocked gently on my mind’s matter. I decided that in order to see clearly what all this “candy floss” is about, I need to look at my five genres or styles critically. You see, I have to “defend” my stance soon to a panel of creatives with whom I may be collaborating for the next three years; if they don’t understand where I am coming from it could be a frustrating time for them and I can make them nervous by surprising them each time with a new style or outlook of mine.
I am whispering here: Most artists who make it big in the art world have one style for which they are recognized and valued, but I am unfortunately not that one. I have five windows through which I must look, and I want to keep them all open. I have been living this five-legged-genre-art-life for almost as long as I can remember, but I may seem like an arts alien to the collaborators. So, these blog posts were actually done for the sake of desirable “harmonious future collaboration”.
I think I have said too much already, and “good-bye see you later”, will be much greater, but I have a few more words to get rid of. Back to still life painting. If only we knew or could know that something we create would sell well, then we could prepare a crate full of those items or paintings (as is the case here). In 1997, the painting I include here was one of those that simply flew off the shelf before I could even put the price tag on it.
Whenever I show my friends and prospective clients a record of my previous pieces, they always stop at this one. I know it is a happy and "uncomplicated" piece, but I was surprised. As we all know it is not easy to replicate something that was an instant success - I am referring to creative exploits here. (I am not even sure if we should try!)
The way I paint my still lives is a bit of a “mission” to put it lightly. I don’t know if other artists may feel the same way, but I need to be “psychologically” prepared; the logistics of staging the still life and getting everything ready may compare favourably to arranging “lift off”. I work from real objects, which is nothing new, but in this day of easy fixes, hunting for flower vases, bric-a-brac, vegetables and fruit is not that easy for me.
Once I have arranged the collection to become worthy subject matter, I need about six to eight hours of continuous observation to complete a work that same day. I do not fix anything the following the day. I admire other creatives who keep on working on a piece until it is absolutely perfect according to their standards. The reason for deliberately wanting to complete it on the same day, is because I feel connected to the work and the “conversation” is fresh, and so are the fruit and the flowers. The size I usually prefer is 60cm x 60cm. I feel it is just big enough for me to handle and it easily fits into a car if someone buys it at an art fair. I am including a video of how I go about creating a still life. Still life no 7 #shortvideo #acrylic #naturalism #fruit #flowers #concentration #still life #art
In the introduction I alluded to misery. Well, misery may be too dramatic, I agree, but you will understand the story soon. In the early months of 2025, I decided it was time to activate my still life painting skills again. I did a series of nine pieces (60cm x 60cm), acrylic on board. This body of work I envisaged staging at a national arts festival in Bloemfontein in July 2025. It happened. I set up my stall. My work was beautifully framed – at least in my opinion. I did not sell any of my still lives during that festival.
I do understand the spiel about the economy and all the current uncertainties of life. My prices were not too high. One asks oneself many questions during such a session of FPF or “fantastic public failure”. I did recover from my FPF-spell, and I am still a still life advocate, whether there are buyers or not. The process of painting a still life remains a wonderful opportunity for any artist, I believe, because the process anchors one and forces one to observe and to make credible brush moves to solve an immediate challenge. I prefer using acrylic paint for my still life challenges, because it is just easier when it comes to cleaning up.
I think it is time to conclude this last blog post pertaining to the suitcase. So many ideas are jumping around in my head, and they want to creep through my fingers, but I think I will be brave and keep them locked in for now. Living out of a suitcase literally gave me many privileges and introduced me to new vistas, but it was not just moonlight and roses, as you can imagine. I learned (like many before me) that we can make art wherever we are and that is the beauty of being involved in the arts, it is a gift you can share anywhere – and it secures your own sanity! So, I am off to crossing new bridges – like you and other creatives will do – but I need to say farewell with: Remember, there is art in your heart.
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