Lilacs hold a very special place for many people. I am no exception. My mother loved lilacs. So much so she even named me after a “Jeannine, I Dream of Lilac Time” is a 1928 song composed by Nathaniel Shilkret with lyrics by L. Wolfe Gilbert. It is the theme song of the motion picture …theme song from the movie, “Lilac Time” starring Colleen Moore. Written by L. Wolfe Gilbert and Nathaniel Shilkret. To hear the song: https://youtu.be/h_2EBin-KnQ

Same bunch of Lilacs from a completely different angle. A whole different painting awaits. I wanted to start off very loosely almost like applying watercolor washes. Trying to keep the general masses and light and dark patterns foremost. The noonday sun was pouring in and I found it necessary to shade my painting so that I could work. although the light filled arrangement was lovely it wasn’t exactly what I wanted. The light was perfect later in the dat around 6:00. The light was steady and more dramatic. Perfect for the mood of this painting.

“Evening Lilacs” Oil on linen panel ‐ (12 x 16 )

If I remember correctly this variety of lilac is called a “French Lilac”. It grows in my back yard. I like the way the blooms are so organic. It is a challenge to describe the individual flowers without losing the sense of the whole form. It is a delicate balance.

In this next painting I wanted to include the vase as well as the flower so I chose a more vertical format. I also wanted a strong light source coming from the window.

“Lilacs by the window in the Afternoon”. (16×12) Oil on linen panel. I wanted to include the vase in this piece so I chose a more vertical format.

Excerp of Lilacs (by Amy Lowell)

Lilacs,
False blue,
White,
Purple,
Color of lilac,
Your great puffs of flowers
Are everywhere in this my New England.
Among your heart-shaped leaves
Orange orioles hop like music-box birds and sing
Their little weak soft songs;
In the crooks of your branches
The bright eyes of song sparrows sitting on spotted eggs
Peer restlessly through the light and shadow
Of all Springs.
Lilacs in dooryards
Holding quiet conversations with an early moon;
Lilacs watching a deserted house
Settling sideways into the grass of an old road;
Lilacs, wind-beaten, staggering under a lopsided shock of bloom
Above a cellar dug into a hill.
You are everywhere.
You were everywhere.
You tapped the window when the preacher preached his sermon,
And ran along the road beside the boy going to school.