FLORA IN WINTER: Worcester Art Museum. Worcester, MA.

FLORA IN WINTER 2015
31st January 2015. Worcester, MA.


Outside of my window, the January landscape is nothing but a soft and lovely white. With all the fresh snow New England has been getting in recent weeks, the colour that usually fills up the garden was starting to become a distant memory.  

This past weekend, at the Worcester Art Museum, it was a very different story. For the 13th year, the museum was displaying a breathtaking array of flower arrangements for the exhibition called Flora in Winter. While this was the first year I was able to go, I had heard nothing but rave reviews from my mother, an avid florist herself. As she’s not usually one to rave about museum visits, I thought I’d be in for something special, and my expectations were entirely met. 

The magnificent main hall.

The exhibition pairs local floral designers with a work of art from the museum, asking them to create an arrangement inspired by the piece. I expected the flowers to be beautiful and elegant, but I didn’t realise how clever and amusing some of the designs would be. Even more than that, I didn’t anticipate that the addition of the arrangements would prompt me to look at the paintings themselves in an entirely different light. When you have the interpretation in front of you, it somehow draws your eye to fresh aspects of the painting, making you look at them differently and making you notice new things. 

Here, in no particular order, are my five favourites:

1. Work of Art: The Hull by Hyman Bloom. Arranger: Virginia Orlando and Candace Atchue (Seed to Stem).


I know that I just said that this wouldn’t be in any order, but, if I’m being honest, this was my favourite. How could it not be? I’m a sucker for Contemporary Art, as this blog documents well. More than that though, this arrangement manages to not only draw attention to the intent of Bloom—“the paradox of the harrowing and the beautiful” as he puts it himself, with the corpse depicted in vibrant colour— but also furthers it. Standing in front of the tulips, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Walt Whitman and Leaves of Grass. With the white bone nestled into the arrangement, the flowers did seem like the eventual end point of the body in the painting, the “beautiful uncut hair of graves.” 


I’ve seen this painting before, but I’ve never seen it the way I did this weekend. Orlando and Atchue captured the darkness, the beauty, the movement of the original, but they also managed to do something else entirely: add another layer of meaning.


2. Work of Art: Study for the Venetian Blind by Edmund Tarbell. Arranger: Susan Dewey (Worcester Garden Club and Osterville Garden Club).




This one took a while to grow on me. It’s near the end of the tour (23 out of 24 in the guide), and I think I was expecting something more literal, like many of the others in the museum. Upon some reflection though, Dewey managed to capture something quite subtle about the painting- the hidden colour. The painting, as it is a study, is sketched and painterly. The white of her skin isn’t pure, and the arrangement drew out the underlying colours and textures wonderfully. 

3. Work of Art: Girl Playing Solitaire by Frank Weston Brown. Arranger: Kim Cutler. (Worcester Garden Club).


This arrangement captured the mood of the painting so well for me. The flowers somehow feel elegant and bored and lonely all at the same time. 


4. Work of Art: John Bours by John Singleton Copley. Arranger: Mary Fletcher.


The different textures in the arrangement are what really made it stand out for me. There’s the firm wood of the chair, the opulence of the velvet suit, the leather of the book, the contrasting white elements. The flowers are as confident and as aristocratic as the sitter himself. 


5. Works of Art: William James and Elizabeth James by William Hogarth. Arranger: Sarah Ribeiro.


This was the only designer to do a pair of paintings, and for that reason alone, it stands out. Beyond that, I love the way Ribeiro created the design. The two arrangements are clearly defined as individuals, each having their own gold vase that echoes the gold of the frames, but at the top, where the flowers blend into each other, things are less distinct. They’re different, but impossible to fully separate.

Two Bonus Arrangements:






Work of Art: St. Bartholomew by Rembrandt van Rijn. Arranger: Chrystal Paul and Helen Blazis (Grafton Garden Club).











Work of Art: The Christ of Saint Gregory. Arranger: Jackie Potenzone.







Not only because I’m terrible at sticking to my own rules, but because I simply cannot get over the Birds of Paradise as the angel’s wings. And that Rembrandt? It was so literal, it was daring. 


It was hard to narrow the list to these five because all of the pieces were so joyful and so full of life. It was one of the most enjoyable and unique museum experiences I’ve had in a long time. The contrast between the flowers, with their limited lifespan, and the art which, in some cases, has been around for hundreds of years was lovely and rather poetic. While the paintings were made to endure, the flowers are fragile, alive, limited. 

The arrangements also provided the opportunity to incorporate a more traditionally feminine medium into the exhibition space. In rooms largely populated by male artists, it is an opportunity to expose to people to modes of artistic expression often overlooked. More than that, it’s an opportunity to break people from their habits. I’ve been guilty more than once of spending all my time in the Contemporary wing. With the arrangements spread throughout the building, that becomes impossible. Instead, you’re brought out of your comfort zone, invited to look at things you might be tempted to pass by.


Judging by the crowds, I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it. Flora in Winter, when it comes around next year, is well worth making time for. 













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WHO AM I?

I'm Kaitlyn, an art professional, writer and noted em-dash enthusiast based between London and Oxford. I have many thoughts and a variety of opinions, none of which I can seem to keep to myself.