Sitting on the train ride home, squeezed uncomfortably near a fellow passenger due to our bulky coats, a painting I had seen earlier at the Art Institute that day flashed across my mind. “Wrapped Oranges” by William McCloskey is a tiny oil on canvas, a mere 12”x16”. It is a still life of six oranges, two completely wrapped in thin paper, another two coyly peeping out their wrappings and the last two unwrapped. And while the oranges are lovely within themselves, the dark blue backdrop and veneer tabletop create a radiated, shining painting. When I stood at the gallery gazing at the painting, the woman alongside me gasped. She smiled shyly over to me and said, “When I saw this picture in the catalogue I didn’t think it was anything much but now that I see here it…well, I understand.” After all, how many pictures of oranges are there that can make a viewer gasp? Not many. McCloskey’s grasp of the beauty in ordinary objects and his ability to illuminate that beauty to the viewer is extraordinary. I too was taken aback by the tiny canvas and out of the hundred pieces I saw that day, “Wrapped Oranges” stood out like a beacon.

Feeling uncomfortable I was intruding on a stranger’s space in a train, McCloskey’s painting rose to my mind and I couldn’t help but smile and relax in my seat.  Remembering his gem was like a dose of good therapy. I recalled that the world is beautiful and that people have a tendency to want to share that beauty. My own present discomfort would soon pass. Perhaps my fellow passenger wasn’t too discomforted by my closeness. It was rush hour and we were all packed in anyway. After a little bit of gentle conversation, I found out she  had been to the Art Institute that day and she too had seen the beautiful “Wrapped Oranges”. We both smiled fondly, remembering the painting. We compared notes on the exhibit going on, “Art and Appetite.” Seeing and remembering art helped me to relax in my skin just bit more. An uncomfortable position became a pleasant one and while a small thing, it felt large. A tiny yet beautiful painting changed the dreary tone of an evening commute.

5 thoughts on “Wrapped Oranges

  1. Cindi Eaton

    I came to your website & saw this painting, and even before reading what you wrote, I just stared at the oranges, at the tabletop, at the way the artist painted the paper wrapping the oranges. Though I’m sure there’s much more when seeing it in person, even seeing it here on your blog I was encouraged to pause, to enjoy the pause, the beauty. It was encouraging. It reminds me of the beauty around us all the time that we can miss. That I can miss. I think there’s something really special (dull word for what I’m trying to say) about seeing beauty, or a glimpse of beauty, and be able to re-create it or communicate it to others. Like the artist did. Like what you just wrote here. Thanks so much for sharing.

  2. Catherine Post author

    You’re very welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I don’t know when you’ve been last to the Art Institute but I highly recommend taking some time to head over there and see “Art and Appetite.” I know you cook a lot and the exhibit covers the history of food in art and how people have thought about food in the United States. It’s a fun and interesting exhibit.

  3. Dan

    I saw this last week at the Amon Carter Museum in Fort Worth. It was in a room that contained other still life paintings. All of them were fantastic! The translucent quality of the tissue paper and the texture of the oranges make this piece stand out. I wonder how long it took to create this single piece – not counting the hundreds of other paintings he made until he achieved perfection.

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