Shadows of the Old World: The Silent Narratives of Paulette Tavormina

In the suspended silence of a photograph, a tulip bends under the weight of its own lush decay, and a finch rests in eternal stillness. To look at the work of Paulette Tavormina is to step through a veil of time, leaving the frenetic pace of the modern world for the shadowy, contemplative quiet of the 17th century.

Still life photography of zebra finches perched on tulips against a dark background

Tavormina does not merely capture images; she constructs vignettes of memory and desire, heavily influenced by the Old Masters of European art history. Her journey began not with the camera lens, but with a visceral reaction to still life painting. Struck by the intensity with which artists of the past depicted their reality, she sought to translate that painterly emotion into photography.

“The Old World is very important to me,” Tavormina reflects. “You see the evolution of society—there’s a thread woven between the past and the present.” This thread is visible in her chiaroscuro lighting and her meticulous compositions, where she channels her own stories of love, loss, and the rich abundance of existence into arrangements of fruit, flora, and fauna.

The Ritual of Composition

The creation of these images is a deliberate, almost ritualistic process. It begins in the halls of museums and the pages of art history books, studying the works of masters like Francesco de Zurbarán, Giovanna Garzoni, and Adriaen Coorte. Tavormina studies Zurbarán’s mysterious, dramatic light and Coorte’s unique spatial placement, internalizing the visual language of the Golden Age.

Close up of dahlias and figs in a dark, moody still life composition

From research, she moves to the hunt. The artist scours farmers’ markets, flea markets, and antique shops, searching for the specific elements that will anchor her narrative. She is not looking for perfection, but for character—a wilted flower, a piece of rotting fruit, or a specific taxidermy butterfly. “Whether it’s a wilted flower… or a beautiful butterfly, the elements create a story,” she notes.

This dedication to the “prop” is not about set dressing; it is about finding objects that hold history. The artifacts she selects become vessels for the “intimate moments” she wishes to explore, transforming personal sorrow or gratitude into universal symbols of beauty.

The Metaphor of the Escaped Fish

One of Tavormina’s most compelling works, Flowers, Fish and Fantasies III (2012), illustrates how deeply her personal interiority informs her technical execution. Inspired by a large canvas by Dutch painter Gerard Spaendonck which featured a fishbowl amidst flowers, Tavormina sought to recreate the scene with a distinct narrative twist.

She envisioned a fish escaping its confinement, a concept that required a specific vessel. “I didn’t want a perfect bowl. I wanted a crack in it because I wanted the fish to come out of the bowl,” she explains. Her search led her to an antique store in Essex, Massachusetts, where she found a fine Delft bowl with a fracture in the upper lip—the perfect gateway for her subject.

A goldfish leaps from a cracked Delft bowl amidst a floral arrangement

The shoot itself was frantic, a stark contrast to the stillness of the final image. Working with strobes to capture the motion of the goldfish, Tavormina did not realize what she had achieved until she reviewed the files later. The tail of the thrashing fish had flung water droplets into a perfect, halo-like circle suspended in the air.

This “happy accident” revealed the subconscious drive behind the image. “It was a difficult summer for me,” Tavormina admits. “I didn’t consciously realize what I was creating until after I finished… But that’s how I was feeling—like a fish out of water.” The photograph became a metaphor for metamorphosis, capturing the chaotic beauty of struggle.

Vanitas and the Fragility of Time

Beyond the autobiographical, Tavormina’s work delves into the philosophical realm of Vanitas—a genre of symbolic art associated with the passage of time and the inevitability of death. In her Vanitas collection, objects are chosen for their allegorical weight: skulls representing mortality, maps signifying earthly wanderings, and butterflies symbolizing the fleeting nature of the soul.

Still life composition featuring a skull, books, and flowers representing the Vanitas theme

“As humans, we accumulate wealth, but we can’t take these worldly possessions with us,” she observes. These images serve as a memento mori, reminding the viewer of the fragility of life amidst its beauty. The objects are lush and tangible, yet they speak of an end that comes to all things.

Tavormina’s hope is that her work will endure as a link in the chain of art history, resonating with future viewers just as the Old Masters resonated with her. She cites a Latin phrase found in a painting that haunts her philosophy: Eram Qvod Es. “I was once where you are now.” It is a whisper from the past, echoing through her lens, ensuring that the conversation between the living and the dead continues in the quiet dignity of her art.