This particular body of work was born out of a desire to evoke the beauty of Fontainebleau at the height of its splendour. Naturally, the objects and ornamentation depicted are not faithful reproductions of those found within the palace itself. And yet, in atmosphere, in tone, one feels momentarily transported—to an age of grace, of grandeur, to what might well be called a golden era.

Two of the paintings, The Memory of Fontainebleau and Flora, I gathered under a single title: Golden Wood. It seemed fitting—not only because the paintings were executed on wood panels, but because there is something warm, almost luminous, in their presence. The scale is modest, to be sure, yet the detail is remarkably fine—so much so that at a glance, the surfaces might almost be mistaken for gilt-bronze relief.

There is a certain warmth to the light—intended to suggest the gentle glow of chandeliers suspended in a royal salon. One is reminded, perhaps, of the Sun King himself returning from the hunt, preparing at last to dine. In the scene, cherubs labour earnestly to carry offerings of flowers and fruit—symbols, one might say, of abundance and joy. And beneath it all, a quiet strain of mysticism hums, as if the moment exists somewhere between the earthly and the divine. 

—— A.G