Artists’ Dialogue: The Unhurried Eye of Artist Renée Levin

What makes a flower petal, pearl or sea shell special? On the canvases of Renée Levin, who paints their details in large letters, the composition of these objects becomes a kind of miracle. His approach to her—extremely detailed objects set against a plain background—is a way to explore and share that wonder. As strange as it may sound, Levin tells the Observer, he has felt a deep connection with nature since childhood. “There’s a great narrative about these natural things that has been overlooked for a long time. I want to celebrate them by putting them down to show my audience all these little details that have amazing proportions or patterns created by Mother Nature.”

Levin’s subjects, rendered in two-dimensional paint, have a tactile appearance. To achieve that effect, Levin draws on a palette of subtle colors to emphasize texture—creamy colors, raised by strong light and bright glimmers in shiny areas, exaggerate the shadows. “I always say that my paintings give the audience ‘permission to feel’, and you can take it for granted,” he explains, adding that he almost never paints his subjects in public spaces. Instead, he transports them through a canvas, which gives them another life. “By doing that, it creates a focus. If I paint a flower in the grass, I don’t think people will pay so much attention and look at it.” Sometimes he only paints a petal, not even a full flower, in its imperfect state, “so it makes—or forces—the viewer to really focus.”

Metaphorically, that permission to feel is his way of bringing attention and slowness back into our lives. “These days, our lives have become so fast that they’ve become almost robotic, especially with technology, which is a little scary,” Levin said. Drawing magnified objects is almost like meditation for him—a way to see how these small things in creation add up to everything and how many details are overlooked when our attention is blocked from working properly. Expanding the details allows him to show his audience the beauty and uniqueness of things they might otherwise overlook.

Often, Levin’s painting process begins with the simple act of gathering. He carries jars of natural materials, which he photographs in a dark room where he can control the light source. “Photography is a very time-consuming process,” he says. “I play with composition, see where the light hits the object and create shadows. With my camera, negative space and composition shape things into something I’m happy with.” When it’s time to start painting, he usually sketches an object, then paints from reference photos while looking directly at the object. Photography is especially important when he’s working with timeless objects like pieces of flowers that will decay as he paints, though he says the painting is often the easiest part. “For me, it’s weeks, but it really depends on the complexity of the object, its shape, and size.”

Since he uses a camera, Levin has never considered photography as one of his mediums. “If you are an artist who paints realistically, you are almost in competition with yourself,” he commented. “You’re always trying to get to that point of challenging yourself to see how successful you can be at it. With photography, it’s probably a lot easier.” Levin, significantly, is not a professional painter; went to art school for design and worked as a designer for years before turning to painting professionally in 2019. Still, “he always had an itch to paint. I always needed to use my hands to release my art.” That design background is evident in his work. “The difference, boldness and dramatic side of my work comes from the design. Learning to use negative space while designing helped me create songs with my painting.”

Artists often have ideas or narratives ready, but Levin disputes that. Instead, his work asks for presence and slowness, and he wants viewers to form their own opinions about the things he paints: “In my new collection, these flowers are almost figurative: the bending of the stems almost puts you in these forms. I call them vessels of memory, as they are almost like a reflection of the phases of my life, which I want others to see.” Levin believes that there is no way to look at these flowers other than seeing them as forms that produce feeling—as full of emotion as objects and self-constructing, while also containing little sensitivity. “The biggest misconception about my work is that I just paint beautiful things. It’s more than that. Seeing our relationship with nature and the things around us is a philosophical journey.”

Levin’s work can be found in the hands of private collectors and in the halls of institutions. In June, six pieces with pearls and shells in monochromatic colors will be part of an exhibition at the Hidell Brooks Gallery in Charlotte, North Carolina. He also takes commissions, he needs to know the buyers and how to use the spaces where the paintings will be displayed. “It’s a lot of intimate conversations because ultimately they’re going to be living with the art, so it has to feel right for them.” He recently completed a residential project at the White Elephant Hotel, a family hotel in Nantucket, Massachusetts, where he painted after encountering the owner’s wife’s collection. He freely admits that finding homes for his paintings can be emotional. “I like the juxtaposition of works of art in a commission because often you don’t even know where the art ends up, and it’s sad. It’s my piece. It’s like letting go of a child.”

You started Instagram just before COVID, when people started slowing down and looking for creativity as a way to combat uncertainty. “We live in a society that sets goals that will never end, and people are attracted to the zen type of beauty in my work,” she said. Indeed, her Instagram is a corner of minimalist aesthetics that feels true to her while giving visitors a sense of calm in the midst of busy lives. For Levin, that authenticity—in person, on social media, in the studio—is a necessity for everything. “If I paint something that I don’t like it will be more visible in the work, I have to finish the painting and I am happy that I am ready to leave my studio. He adds, art affects almost all aspects of life. “I am very serious about the way I live to put my creativity in all aspects of my life. Together. The work of an artist is not done: you are always asking, looking for answers, and doing things in the studio. It is not easy, but it creates great satisfaction. You live a full life, even though it’s very difficult to drive yourself.”

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