Seen on Campus: A Shatter of Camellia Blooms Arranged Themselves over Tom’s Face

Raymond Grubb,

Raymond Grubb (American, b. 1952)
A Shatter of Camellia Blooms Arranged Themselves over Tom’s Face, 2020
23 x 17 in
Archival ink jet print
Gallery Purchase

A man sits — or perhaps lounges — on the ground, leaning against a rusted bench. Vibrant pink Camellia flowers lay across the man’s face. Vines and branches growing with green leaves curl up around the bench, almost in active, visible motion, like they are conscious, moving in concert with Tom and creating a halo to rest on his head. He is not dressed like an angel; he is a person, just like you or me, wearing regular (albeit fancy) clothes: an argyle-print sweater vest, a white button-up, and a houndstooth suit jacket. Clothes you would not get dirty. Clothes you would not sit on the muddy ground in. And yet the man sits there with purpose; he did not fall, and he will not get up any time soon. He has been there long enough for pink petals to fall across his face — deliberately, as the title of the photograph says that the flowers “arranged themselves,” harnessing the power of the wind to scatter across him. And he will not move these petals; he is a part of them, and the flowers (and the leaves) are a part of him. They will lie together, the flora and the man, for years and years. 

Though I get a bit wrapped up in my ideas of the apocalypse and our connection to the earth, I really do love this piece. A Shatter of Camellia Blooms Arranged Themselves over Tom’s Face is a portrait of a man, Tom, who is the photographer’s partner of over 30 years. I have never met Tom. I am not in love with Tom, and yet I am drawn to the photograph. It is one of the works in our collection that can be hung in a student’s room, thanks to our new art in residence halls program, ArtMate. The piece is perfect for ArtMate. It is a portrait without a face, without a stranger staring at you, which, though enticing when hanging in a gallery, would be a tad creepy to wake up and see in the middle of the night in your bedroom. Instead, A Shatter of Camellia Blooms Arranged Themselves over Tom’s Face is the idea of a face, of having company, and of free will and no rush — of flowers choosing to fall onto your face, and staying there in harmony with them because there is no endless to-do list or meeting to run off to, not for the earth and not for you. 

-Isabel Smith ’24