Honouring the Name
On Titles, Poetry, and the Stories We Carry (And Why I’m Rethinking my Titles)
There’s a quiet moment in every painting before the brush touches canvas where something unspoken begins to take form. A memory. A light. A question. And often, by the time the painting is finished, that quiet beginning is still humming beneath the surface.
Trogon, Callen Schaub Art, 10ft x 10ft, acylic on canvas
Lately, I’ve been wondering if my titles are doing enough to honour that hum.
Some of them, like Field Marigold No. 3 or Astromerius No. 2, are accurate. They name the flower, mark the series, help me organize the work. But do they carry the feeling or story of the painting? The part that lives between the brushstrokes?
I’m not so sure.
A few weeks ago, I came across the work of Montreal-based artist Callen Schaub. His process is kinetic, even theatrical as paint flung and spun through pendulums, buckets, and trapezes. But what lingered for me wasn’t just the movement. It was the naming.
One piece in particular, entitled Trogons, took my breath a little. Named after a family of birds known for their radiant, contrasting plumage, the title felt both poetic and precise. Schaub often collaborates with his mother to name his work, blending his high-energy process with her poetic lens. The result is powerful: wild colour, anchored in meaning.
It reminded me: a title can do more than describe.
It can gesture.
It can invite.
So I’ve been rethinking the way I title my own work.
Because what I’m really trying to do with a painting is create an experience of resonance. A moment of recognition. A flicker of stillness or memory in the viewer’s body. And I want the title to open that door, not close it with a number.
Lately, I’ve been reaching for names like:
The Orchard Remembers
Where the Marsh Meets the Porcelain
The Stillness That Stayed
These names feel more like companions than labels. They root the work in a specific story, mine, yes, but maybe also yours. They carry a sense of place, memory, and quiet wonder. And they make the piece easier to search for, to return to, to remember.
My titles are evolving alongside my practice.
Less about classification.
More about connection.
Because I don’t just want you to look at the painting.
I want you to feel something in its presence.
And I want the title to be your way in.
Thanks for walking this journey with me.
Warmly,
Pete