Maud Lewis Black Cats Giclee Print | Nova Scotia Folk Art

Details

This 1965 black cat and kittens composition captures Maud Lewis at a pivotal moment—the year the CBC Telescope documentary transformed her from local Nova Scotia folk artist to national icon. One large black cat accompanied by two smaller kittens, all with those characteristic bright yellow eyes, peer out from a vibrant garden of tulips and blossoms. It's Lewis painting her most beloved subject during the year that changed everything, channeling a lifetime of love for cats into one of her signature serial images.
The timing of this painting couldn't be more significant. In 1964, the Toronto Star Weekly had featured Lewis in a major article, bringing unprecedented attention to the tiny painted cottage in Marshalltown. Then in 1965, the CBC's Telescope program broadcast her story across Canada, showing the nation this diminutive artist bent over her board, arthritis-gnarled hands somehow creating these explosions of color and joy. Suddenly, people arrived in droves at her roadside home. Orders poured in faster than she could paint. Her quiet life was never the same.
Yet through all this upheaval, Lewis kept painting what she loved most—cats. She made dozens, likely hundreds, of cat paintings throughout her career. The serial nature of her practice meant she returned to successful compositions repeatedly, each time varying the details while maintaining the essential elements collectors recognized and requested. Black cats with yellow eyes surrounded by tulips became one of her most popular configurations.
The composition follows Lewis's preferred formula for cat groupings: one large, two small, typically arranged in a line or cluster. These weren't arbitrary design choices—they reflected her understanding of feline family dynamics, her memories of childhood cats, and her instinct for creating balanced, appealing compositions. The large cat might be a mother with kittens, or simply the visual anchor that makes the composition work. Lewis didn't explain; she simply painted what felt right.
Those bright yellow eyes are unmistakably Lewis. Her cats stare directly at viewers with wide-eyed expressions that range from mildly stunned to playfully alert to, occasionally, charmingly grumpy. The eyes create connection, transforming simple shapes into personalities. Whether these black cats look playful, mischievous, curious, or calm depends partly on Lewis's mood when painting and partly on what viewers project onto them. That ambiguity is part of their endless appeal.
The cats sit against lime-green grass—that characteristic bright, flat green Lewis loved—surrounded by vibrant tulips and blossoms. She painted flowers the way a child might: bold primary colors, simplified petal shapes, no concern for botanical accuracy. Red tulips, yellow blooms, maybe pink blossoms overhead. The flowers aren't background decoration; they're equal participants in creating the overall feeling of spring abundance and natural beauty.
Lewis's love of cats traced back to childhood. Her family kept a white cat named Fluffy, one of her few happy memories from those early years when physical disabilities increasingly isolated her from peers. Cats required no explanations, offered no judgments. They simply existed as warm, comforting presences in an often harsh world. When Lewis painted cats decades later, she was painting companionship, affection, and the unconditional acceptance she'd found in feline company.
By 1965, Lewis had also lost all mobility in her right painting hand—the arthritis that had plagued her since childhood finally making her dominant hand useless. She taught herself to paint left-handed, adapting once again to physical limitations that would have stopped most people entirely. Looking at this 1965 painting, you'd never know she was working through such challenges. The brushwork remains confident, the colors bold, the composition assured.
The technique shows Lewis's mature style fully developed. She coated her board white, drew pencil outlines, then applied paint straight from the tube without mixing or blending. Those rectilinear brushstrokes—shaped by hands that couldn't move freely—became her signature. What began as limitation transformed into distinctive artistic identity. No one else painted like this because no one else had to navigate the same physical constraints while maintaining such creative vision.
The 1965 documentary transformed how people understood Lewis's work. Before, she was a local curiosity, a cheerful woman painting from her roadside cottage. After, she became a symbol of triumph over adversity, a testament to creativity flourishing despite poverty and pain. The narrative shifted from "charming folk art" to "remarkable achievement against all odds." Both readings were true, but the emphasis changed everything.
Black cats held particular fascination for collectors. Where white cats seemed sweet and innocent, black cats appeared more mysterious, playful, even slightly mischievous. Lewis painted both extensively, understanding that different collectors wanted different moods. These black cats with their yellow eyes have personality—they're characters, not just decorative elements.
The painting also demonstrates Lewis's instinctive gift for color and composition. The black cats pop brilliantly against the green grass and colorful flowers. The yellow eyes create focal points. The tulips add vertical interest. Every element balances perfectly within the composition despite the complete absence of sophisticated techniques like perspective, shading, or color gradation. Lewis worked purely from intuition and decades of practice.
By 1965, Lewis could no longer keep up with demand. The documentary created a flood of orders—people wanting pieces by this remarkable artist they'd seen on television. She and Everett still sold paintings for just five dollars, worried that raising prices would reduce interest. They couldn't imagine people would pay more, couldn't foresee that these paintings would eventually sell for tens of thousands of dollars.
This museum-quality Giclee reproduction captures every nuance of Lewis's bold palette and distinctive technique. The black cats maintain their sleek presence with those arresting yellow eyes, the green grass glows with characteristic intensity, and the surrounding flowers burst with primary-color brilliance. The rectilinear brushstrokes that define Lewis's arthritis-shaped style remain visible and contribute authenticity to the folk art character.
Perfect for anyone who cherishes Canadian folk art, cat paintings, 1965 CBC history, tulip gardens, or simply wants their home filled with the kind of pure joy Lewis created during the year she became famous. This painting represents Lewis painting what she loved most at the moment the world was discovering what she'd been creating quietly for decades.
Bring home this piece of Canadian cultural history. Let these black cats with their bright yellow eyes remind you that fame doesn't change what matters—Lewis kept painting cats and flowers because that's what brought her joy, whether the audience was neighbors or the entire nation.