The glorious anemone. 

The lavish colours surrounding that intense dark eye at their centre. The delicate formations of their fragile petals.

Their effusiveness that’s matched only by their fleetingness.

Of all the flowers, none spoke to the Dutch of the ephemeral nature of worldly pleasure, of the precariousness of beauty, riches, pomp, joy, art and the fame of majesty more than the fragile anemone. The immortal phrase from Psalm 103, “as for man, his days are as grass, as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth”, might have been written about them.

The anemone’s irresistible charm is celebrated in this glorious still life, that also explores the Dutch relationship with it. The preciousness and luxury of the exotic eastern blooms are brought to the fore with the exquisite things that surround them: the unusual Delft bowl that strays from blue and white tradition, an intricate glass vessel that must have been the pride of any seventeenth-century household, and swags of shimmering silk. All this beauty might pass, it seems to say, but let’s really, really revel in it whilst we can.