post

A Season of Pears

by In still life, Studio Notes Tagged , , , , , , ,

Pear Harvest at Home

It’s pear season at my house, and our Bartlett and Asian pear trees are giving us more fruit than we can count — definately over a thousand this year! The branches have been so heavy with fruit that keeping up with the harvest has felt like its own full-time job.

My picky 9-year-old’s favorite treat is canned pears, so I’ve been staying up until 1am many nights, filling jars for the winter. It’s a labor of love, and one that connects directly to the rhythms of the season and to our family traditions.

Curious how I preserve all these pears? You can find my Bartlett Pear Canning Recipe here ».

Miniature still life oil painting on aluminum of black capped chickadee, Chinese porcelain and bartlet pears by Rebecca Luncan
Coming in for a Landing, oil on aluminum, 5.5″ x 4.5″

Pears as Artistic Inspiration

Over the years, pears have also made their way into my artwork. Their subtle curves, warm colors, and varied textures are endlessly inspiring. From luminous green to the golden blush of ripening fruit, I’ve found that each pear has its own personality.

In this post I’ve gathered a few of my paintings that feature Bartlett pears, including a detail from one of my larger still lifes. These works celebrate the fruit not just as food, but as a timeless subject in still life painting. Like the Dutch masters, I love the challenge of turning something so familiar into something worth lingering over.

If you’d like to see how these pear paintings connect to my ongoing projects, I’ve also included pears in my Monthly Miniatures series.

Pears and Peacock Swallowtail Butterfly framed still life oil painting by Rebecca Luncan
Pears and the Emerald Swallowtail, oil on aluminum, 4.5 x 5.5

Art and Life Intertwined

As I’ve been canning late into the night, surrounded by the scent of pears and the sound of jars sealing, I’ve realized how naturally the cycles of my daily life overlap with my creative work. Harvesting, preserving, and painting all share a common thread: they ask for close attention, patience, and care.

Pears on the table and pears on the canvas — both are ways of preserving something fleeting.

If you’d like to follow along for future paintings and seasonal stories like this, you can sign up for my newsletter here.

detail of bartlett pear oil painting by Rebecca Luncan
detail of Pears and Japanese Porcelain, oil on aluminum, 8″ x 10″
still life oil painting of french pear tart by Rebecca Luncan
French Pear Tart, oil on copper, 5″ x 5″
post

Feast in Orange

by In Monthly Miniature, still life Tagged , , , , ,

Feast in Orange, 5 x 5″, oil on aluminum

Chasing Color is an ongoing series of monthly miniature still life paintings that explores how a single hue can shape atmosphere, memory, and emotion. Each piece focuses on one dominant color, using classical techniques and a personal lens to build small, detailed scenes from fruits, florals, porcelain, and—sometimes—unexpected guests.

This month, I turned to orange: a color often tied to energy and brightness. But in Feast in Orange, I leaned into its softer side. The light is warm, the details are familiar, and the mood is quiet and calm.

A Cat Among the Oranges

I don’t often include cats in my still life work, but this is the second time I’ve made an exception. The first was years ago—a curious feline peeking onto a table, much in the manner of Clara Peters. In this new piece, I originally sketched the cat awake, but he had such a strong presence that the painting began to feel more like a pet portrait with still life elements than the other way around. Once I tried the composition again with the cat sleeping, everything shifted. His presence became subtler, and the overall balance felt right. The still life returned to center stage.

still life paitning floral with waffles and cat by Rebecca Luncan
Snraky Guest, Rebecca Luncan, 5″ x 5″
Still life of fish, oysters and crayfish with a cat, Clara Peters, 13.3″ x 18.8″

Of course, I doubt any cat would actually sleep through the smell of fresh salmon. But he’s good at pretending—as long as he’s being watched.

Creature Comforts Revisited

Looking back, I realize this painting echoes a mindset I had during an earlier series made at the height of the pandemic. That body of work, called Creature Comforts, was all about finding reassurance in simple things: a nourishing meal, a soft flower, a warm cup in hand. Without planning it, I seem to have returned to that space here. The navel orange, the mandarin, the fillets of salmon laid out on a porcelain room plate—they speak to comfort. The ruffled carnations in a green glass vase, the napping cat, the hush of the composition—they speak to peace.

Sometimes we don’t know they why’s of what we’re painting until we’re finished.

A Personal Note

This piece took longer to share than usual. It had been finished for weeks but sat quietly in the studio while we traveled back to the Midwest to visit family. My mom was recently diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Thankfully, they caught it early, and she’s a fighter. As soon as school let out for the summer, we packed up and flew out to Ohio.

It was a deeply meaningful trip. Most of my family is still in the area, and being able to spend real time together—especially after a quick visit earlier this spring with just the baby—made the experience even more memorable.

Painting has always helped me process things I don’t yet have words for. And while I didn’t see the connection at first, Feast in Orange became a reflection of what I needed that time. A longing for closeness. A need for calm. A kind of emotional nourishment.

Thank you, as always, for following along with my work and my story.