“Where are these men? Asleep beneath their grounds: / And strangers, fond as they, their furrows plough. / Earth laughs in flowers, to see her boastful boys / Earth-proud, proud of the earth which is not theirs; / Who steer the plough, but cannot steer their feet/ Clear of the grave.”

In these lines from the second strophe of Hamatreya, a poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882), David LaChapelle finds the title for a series of floral still lifes. Earth Laughs in Flowers. The earth laughs in flowers about the presumptuous, foolhardy men who, although they enrich themselves by means of the earth, cannot do anything to avoid being buried in it. It is not by chance that LaChapelle combines the literary motif of the impudence and finiteness of life with the painterly genre of the still life. The nature morte redeems the former in many twistings and turnings. This is due to its contents. Even before it becomes its own subject, it possesses a commenting function, for instance in the case of Biblical events. The still life can serve as an attribute, inasmuch as it consists of individual elements. The things carry significance, and the more self-aware the still life becomes, the more one of these levels of meaning comes to the fore—that of the vanity and transience of earthly existence. Skull, soap bubbles, extinguished candles, overripe fruit, smoke, flowers, and damaged items are only a few symbols of vanitas. The painterly representation of these objects, however, not only instructs its viewers in correct Christian values but, in the Baroque understanding, also teaches them to enjoy life before it is over. Alongside all the symbolism laid upon it, the still life is itself a pleasure for the senses. Masterful painterly achievements—perhaps as an expression of the vanity of their authors—set everyday reality in a new light, celebrate it. The still life, which attained such popularity in the early modern era, itself becomes an object of desire, a precious thing which, in some cases, depicts nothing other than delicacies. Still-life paintings of this sort are doubly vain. And beautiful. Their compositions are immoderate, overflowing, full."

- Thomas Andratschke, Kristin Schrader