Zeuxis, a 5th-century BC artist, painted grapes so true to life that birds attempted to pluck them. It is not possible to verify this legend, as none of his works survived, but it certainly set a standard for the genre. Never was Plato’s concept of art as mimesis more relevant than in the rendition of objects and fruit good enough to eat off the canvas.

Apparently a contradiction in terms, still life includes the painting (or sculpture) of anything that does not move. The term is derived from the French nature morte, dead nature, referring to inanimate objects (fruit, cut flowers, vegetables, wine) or dead animals. Often the items are set on a table and include other domestic objects like vases, textiles or books. For the painter, the attraction of still life is obvious: the objects can be arranged to suit the composition, the balance of colour and the direction of light. Once in position, the objects remain unmoved and the artist can take their time to complete the work.

Food, glorious food

From ancient Egypt to Instagram, the strong relationship between humans and food has been documented in appetising images. Egyptian pharaohs prepared for their journey into the afterlife by packing a few provisions: tombs were full of items designed to help the soul’s safe passage to the next world, including edibles. Still lifes of the time, created to honour the dead, illustrate offerings to gods. A painting found in the tomb of Menna, an official who lived over 3,000 years ago, depicts fish (a major element in the diet of inhabitants along the shore of the Nile) ducks, grapes, possibly bread and bottles of wine.

The ancient Greeks valued frugality and regarded as decadent and immoral the excesses of the Persians; they considered this taste for culinary luxury as the reason for the Persian’s defeat in battle. The Greeks were proud of their Spartan diet of bread, olives and fish, but by the 3rd century conversation about gastronomy and toasts to Dionysus became more prominent. Painters like Piraeicus documented aspects of that life. Sadly, none of Piraeicus’ works survived, but we know from Pliny the Elder that he ‘followed a humble line’ and painted ‘low things’, including ‘eatables’. However, in these subjects ‘he could give consummate pleasure’ and he sold them well.

Although their diet was inspired by the Greek one, the Romans were not interested in austerity. The rich attended and hosted luxurious banquets, with copious amounts of food and drink. The frescoes on the walls of their villas (at Pompeii, Herculaneum, Piazza Armerina) depict abundance of fruit—apples, pomegranates, figs—fresh or preserved, fish and seafood, poultry and pulses. The Romans were quite messy eaters, and they littered the floor with bones, crumbs, shells and other bits of food, thus providing an interesting subject for still-life mosaics.

As Christianity became the powerful religion of the Middle Ages and Renaissance, there was a concern that focus on food may be interpreted as gluttony—a deadly sin. Although flowers, fruit and other eatables appeared in historic and religious composition, it was only after 1600 that we find works devoted entirely to these motifs. Soon the theme spread throughout Europe, from Clara Peeters selection of cheeses to Juan Sánchez Cotán and Felipe Ramirez with their exotic cardoons and francolins.

The tactile and sensual qualities of fruit have rendered it a symbol and a metaphor for sex and fertility, especially luscious forms like peaches and seed-rich pomegranates. Cherries and strawberries are also featured as symbols of sweetness and blood, or sacrifice.

The fruit in Caravaggio’s Still Life with Fruit on a Stone Ledge, painted around 1601–1610, is remarkable in its realism, as well as its bold use of religious and sexual symbolism. The ledge on which the fruit rests is solid, yet cracked in a couple of places, suggesting that even a strong structure can break and perish. The fruit is ripe and inviting, the red melon split and exposed, glistening with juices; the long and bendy gourds decidedly phallic. To the left, where the light appears to come from, there are pomegranates and peaches, symbol of fecundity, but also salvation and truth.

Fruit continued to feature in Renaissance, Baroque and Impressionist paintings. Modern artists used the subject of food to represent the mechanical, repetitive mass produced goods like Andy Warhol's Campbell Soup paintings or the scrumptious cakes and ice-creams in Wayne Thiebaud canvases. There is no criticism implied in the paintings of pies and cakes, only an opportunity for the artist to indulge in the sweetness of combined realism and abstraction.

Of colour and composition

The advantage of the still life is that it enables the painter to experiment with the arrangement of elements within a composition. Flowers offered a rich array of colours, while fruit and domestic objects could be arranged to provide interesting exercises in lighting and shapes.

Few things can be more satisfying, for both painter and spectator, than an arrangement of flowers: a bouquet in a vase, on the table, with or without other objects. Jan Brueghel the Elder’s Vase of Flowers, with its delicate petals, insects, jewellery and diamonds, the exquisite detail and range of hues in Still Life of Flowers by Rachel Ruysch are beautiful examples of the naturalistic, exuberant style of the Baroque genre.

Still life played an important role in the work of Impressionists. Most painters of the time (Caillebotte, Cassat, Cézanne, Pissaro, Renoir among them) painted flowers, as well as landscapes —there are roses, irises, water-lilies, peonies, pear, apple and almond blossom. Monet produced his sunflowers in a Japanese vase seven years before Van Gogh’s famous work. More than the specialist detail, the Impressionists were interested in applying their ideas of light and colour to flowers and still life painting.

Cézanne favoured still life because the objects, skilfully arranged over a colour cloth to make the tones contrast and vibrate, remained still. The suggestion of permanence and durability pleased the painter, as it does the viewer.

The influence of Jean-Baptiste Simeon Chardin, one of the greatest masters of still life is evident in Cézanne’s work. Chardin used everyday objects and vegetables to create a stage of balanced shapes, textures and tones. Like all good works of art, his paintings help us look afresh at mundane objects and appreciate their simple beauty.

Memento mori

A celebration of material pleasures and apparently insignificant everyday objects (food, flowers, a glass of water), still life also delivers a warning of the brevity of life. The symbolism of still life developed in the Middle Ages and early Renaissance. Some symbols are more obvious and easier to understand, others are concealed in the composition.

As champions of an early consumerist society, 17th-century Netherlanders commissioned artists to paint jewellery and precious stones, fine clothing, exquisite tableware to illustrate the owner’s wealth. Symbols of science (globe, telescope) education and culture (musical instruments, books) were also examples of people’s earthly pursuits.

But the paintings have to remind viewers that life is short and they will die. A plethora of objects are charged with the symbolism of life’s ephemerality: the watch (sometimes with its hand showing near midnight), wilted flowers, decaying fruit, a toppled glass and, most significantly, the frightening skull.

Today, the decorative function and aesthetic appeal of early still lifes is stronger than the moral lesson. Paintings of fruit and flowers, with their explosion of light and colour are a celebration of joie de vivre and a generous invitation to join in.