Summer Nights in the Influence of Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose

Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose (1885) by John Singer Sargent

The beauty of the natural is never more apparent than during the summer in the Northeast. The past posts have conjured images of the natural as either stylized or more biased towards autumn for the grand Hudson River foliage, but that is not when the pulchritude of the region is at its peak. It is now that we can dine outside, absorbing the remaining warmth of the sun long after the rays set. This is partly due to my suburban upbringing in Connecticut, but my memories are full of long summer nights nestled among the mossy, soft ground, under the canopy of green but surrounded by my mother’s plentiful gardens whose color was optimized by the setting sun’s shadows. My family would eat outside, around a table, dimly lit with candles and overhead bulbs that shone through our sinewy wisteria poolside arbor.

I must stress that I was young when I did the following before I completely divulge. Caveat complete. Moving along, during dinner, my younger sister and I would rummage through the basement until we found the neatly organized container of random glass containers and would choose the large clear cookie jar types, quickly returning to the outdoors. Above our dining table, we ran among the ivy-covered path trying to scoop up as many fireflies as possible to catch natural light to better illuminate the dessert course (obviously, any child’s favorite). Once a summer, we were allowed to bring our catches inside and let the fireflies out in our rooms (the doors were hermetically sealed to the rest of the house and the four windows of my bedroom were set wide open). We were rhythmically swayed to sleep by the melody of light performance in our rooms. By the next morning, all of the creatures were gone, but the magic was still intact. The simple enchantment of summer nights maintained my captivation with illuminated objects.

When looking at Singer Sargent’s painting, Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose, it is nearly impossible not to inflect my own experience on the captured moment. Even artificial light can hold the same engagement as the natural. Something about summer evenings filled with family and friends guard very dear childhood memories. Although I no longer excuse myself to catch fireflies, the same warmth is holds as we sit around the table, letting the sun sink as we empty our plates. Now we keep the table surrounded with beautiful twelve-inch copper lanterns, each side containing punch work that contributes to the rustic pleasantries of summer evening weekends.

(See: Scofield's Farm Lantern with Candle)

This carefree charm makes the simple elegant and elegant dining rooted in the natural splendor. As we move from dinner to the pool or relax with an aperitif, the portable lighting goes with us, into our backyard, on tabletops or to the beach. The accessory of lighting returns me to time I spent in Italy enjoying food and slowing the built up momentum of the week. In these moments, our family gathers enjoying shared company under the flicker of candlelight and remembering the parts of life that count, together.