Archive for August 2011
At hyperalergenic, there’s a brief discussion about how grey can achieve optical effects that other colours cannot. And check out the commentary and pictures of work by Julie Shapiro and Stephanie McMahon. In the two paintings shown there, each quite different to the other, they both make use of grey to enliven the other colours.
Thinking of the use of grey in painting, I was reminded of a visit I made to The Hepworth, Wakefield where I saw that wonderful Winifred Nicholson painting.
Grey used here, elicits a muted sensation in the viewer. (I continue to be amazed that a painting can alter ones ’emotional’ state so easily). The grey seems to mediate the contrast of the blue square and the yellow figure-eight shape at the top left, that I tend to read as a sun. In a way it is a very powerful painting. Slowing me down and provoking stillness takes a certain kind of power. And in another sense, it’s the opposite of powerful: unassuming, careful, tentative even.
Then I remembered a grey painting I saw by Mali Morris, entitled Marvell’s Mower,
quite different in its character than Nicholson’s Quarante Huit Quai d’Auteuil, though it shares the main circle motif on a grey ground,grey on grey, and something of the blue/yellow contrast. (It’s likely that this ‘grey’ is in fact black and yellow). It is darker, and bolder, and the central circle shape looks as though it is moving, at speed, and then not. There’s more enjoyment of the paint, and the process of painting, in the Morris. It is almost as if Marvell’s Mower has action frozen in reflection, whereas Quarante Huit Quai d’Auteuil is entirely reflective
In both paintings grey is definitely a colour, not the kind of grey you get on a cloudy day, but the luminescent grey that you might see only when the sun is shining.
what is it about this site Visual Discrepancies that I like so much? Well the interviews are great, and the art is wonderful
but whenever I come across the name Margaret Thatcher, as I did on this post, I shudder. I remember the miners strike, the selling off of supposedly socialised assets to private investors, the poll tax, etc. etc. etc.
Over the pond there’s a Margaret Thatcher I can like a lot more. The Margaret Thatcher Project mentioned in the reblog is a gallery, you can check it out here.
Nice to get featured at Painters table, the magazine of the painting blogosphere.
It is a wonderful site, pulling together lots that is going on at painting blogs worldwide, so it can be seen all in one place. It is easy to get lost in that blogosphere, following the links could serve as a full time avocation.
In my paintings, I have been working with the same simple motif almost exclusively for over a year and I feel that I am just beginning to get to know it. I had no intention of getting into geometric abstraction (I think of it as a soft geometry) it is just where the motif seemed to take me.
I agree with Bob Nickas that “all abstract art is found art”. The forms the abstract painter uses, the geometry (however soft), the language: lines, circles, stripes, bands, squares etc. are (perhaps to varying degrees), pre-existing. But there are an infinite number of ways to arrange them. And even then, for me, those arrangements seem suggested by the previous one: each new arrangement is “found” during the process of painting the one before.
At the National Museum of Wales, Museum of Art, Melissa Munro kindly met me, to take me into the store room to see a wonderful painting: Angel and People by Mali Morris.
Even though I have only seen it before in reproduction its large scale was about as I had imagined it to be. And it was knock-out!
It was painted flat on the floor. That’s how Mali Morris taught me to paint and I can see her now, along with the group in what was the Waverley building at Trent (Now Nottingham Trent University), each of us sitting or kneeling and moving paint around on our respective canvases. Ours were stretched if my memory serves me correctly, whereas in Angel and People Morris was working on unprimed canvas stretched across a solid board, and only later put onto a stretcher. This allowed her to get right into the painting and at the same time to control the flow of the liquid acrylic.
I also learned from her to spend as much time looking at a painting as physically working on it, and again it is easy to imagine her doing just that when making Angel and People, working flat on the floor and then lifting it upright to study it. So, there is both quick physical action and slow meditative looking somehow preserved in the picture. Would it be too fanciful to suggest that there is a dialectic of doing and thinking that is transformed into the experience of viewing?
In viewing this art work we can identify three main forms accompanied by seven smaller forms, veil like, in Morris’s words they “act in various ways as links,bridges, veils or appendages”.
In my recent blog post about David Manley, I noted that his approach was to “abstract from”, starting out with a place, proceeding to a manipulated digital image of the place, and then to the painting, where the connection to the starting point is transcended. In Angel and People, Mali Morris’s approach is almost the opposite of that. Here there is no “abstracting from”. The picture develops over time into what it is and then a title is found that in some way resonates with the experience of it. In this case a friend visiting Morris’s studio had said that the left hand form had “wings like an angel”.
At the museum, Melissa had appeared like an angel to transport me to the store where the painting could be revealed.
After viewing it, I looked round the rest of the collection. This place is really worth visiting. I particularly liked the painting by Howard Hodgkin entitled Bedtime. Like Angel and People it has three main forms, but in the Hodgkin painting they seem constrained by the frame, almost as if they were imprisoned by it. If it weren’t my bedtime now I might say more about the similarities and differences… perhaps another time.