When a friend was diagnosed with three months to live, Jhenna Quinn Lewis knew she couldn’t ignore her lifelong dream of becoming an artist any longer. “It made me ask myself what I would do if I had three months to live,” Lewis says.
Within a few months Lewis closed her California gallery and started teaching herself how to paint.
“I knew I was getting a very late start but even if I was just the best mediocre artist I could be, at least I tried,” she adds. “At least I could die with a smile on my face.”
Green Heron at Sunset, oil on board, 6 x 12"Unbeknownst to Lewis or not, the seeds of her success as a professional artist—largely known for her darling, naturalistic depictions of birds—had been cultivated for many years before she finally took the leap in 1998.
Lewis grew up in a quaint village outside of Chicago surrounded by forest and riparian preserves. Her mother would send Lewis and her brother packing with lunch wrapped in a bandana and tied to a stick (the bandana could also serve as a tourniquet, and the stick a crutch, should mishaps befall the siblings during their day at the creek). Even then, Lewis was fascinat
ed with the natural world, especially birds, and loved to draw, but being an artist was not encouraged as a viable career.
Finch and Hiroshige, (male American goldfinch), oil on cradled board, 6 x 12"
Lewis didn’t start out painting birds. She began with very simple subject matter—a bowl, a piece of fruit, accents of cloth—but her preference for uncluttered compositions has carried through to her current work.
“I think there’s beauty in things simply stated and not crowded,” says Lewis, who has long had an appreciation for Asian art and Buddhist philosophies. “That’s why the negative space is as important as what I paint—because it defines it. Surrounded by this wonderful, dusky atmosphere, your eye just rests on the composition. People find them very mediative. There’s a peacefulness to them, a gentleness.”
What! Not Us. We Are Vegetarians, oil on linen, 12 x 24"
Lewis’ dear friend Larry Eifert, a naturalist and artist who works closely with the National Park System, introduced Lewis to ornithology. Now living in Oregon, Lewis works from photos, “window strikes,” hiking discoveries and other organic and nonorganic reference materials to bring her goldfinches, sparrows, cedar wax wings, larks, cardinals, titmouses, nuthatches and fairywrens to life on the canvas.
Realistically depicted as they are, Lewis’ unlikely perches and the addition of whimsical elements—pearls, gems, keys—elevate her subjects to a fanciful realm while keeping them grounded in the natural world.
Lewis remembers being in awe of Renaissance paintings of women in their lavish gowns, lace and jewels, which often entailed a string of pearls. “It was fascinating to see how an artist could paint those gems,” says Lewis. “There’s such simple beauty in a pearl, the luster of them. They’re also given as a token of love; they’re precious.” 
Still I Wait, (golden-crowned sparrow), oil on aluminum panel, 16 x12"Lewis sees her birds as bearers of gifts. Her introduction of keys and locked boxes is a metaphor in part inspired by the autistic son of a friend. “In many ways, an autistic child is like a locked box,” she says. “You need to learn how to be with them. The keys are all about locks and unlocking something to see what might be beyond that box, but first you have to get inside and to do so you need a key.”
Lewis’ upcoming show Avifauna: A World Within, will showcase her popular bird paintings as well as pieces featuring bugs, beetles and butterflies and a recent return to traditional still lifes. —
Meyer Gallery
225 Canyon Road #14 • Santa Fe, NM
(505) 983-1434 • www.meyergalleries.com
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