Thinking about my next work, I was considering tracing the road route travelled between the two halves featured in my Dwelling Fusion series. In a sense this could be viewed as a negative space as it both joins and separates the two dwellings that constitute the basis of the work.
I remember seeing works from the Air Routes of the World, by Langlands and Bell, exhibited a few years ago at UCS and found it very interesting. The plotted air routes standing alone rendering geographical mapping totally unnecessary so familiar the emergent image of a space so densely plotted with the myriad of commercial air traffic routes.
In keeping with my current minimalist approach to painting I plan to trace the journey of one solitary vehicle on its journey of three hundred miles of ‘A’ roads and motorway; the outcome in stark contrast to that achieved by Langlands and Bell – http://www.vam.ac.uk/users/node/6634
Continuing on with my current major theme entitled Dwelling Fusion, I was inspired by the prominent appearance of curves in most of the paintings. This became evident to me when I started to explore how to represent images using less detail and experimenting with more abstract imagery. The prominence of the use of curves was accentuated by the fact that I began to work with larger canvases than I had used previously. I have included some examples in the paintings below which illustrate this.
Comparing my early work on the Dwelling Fusion series with my current work, it became evident to me that my work has evolved and almost taken a new direction. Whereas the initial work was figurative, very detailed and literal, my current work is now very much minimalist and abstract. It is almost as if my work has added another dimension.
The emphasis on curves resonates somewhat with the work of Oscar Niemeyer, the Brazilian architect, who saw the curve as an extension of the natural physical world around him. He notes that
“I am not attracted to straight angles or to the straight line, hard and inflexible, created by man. I am attracted to free-flowing, sensual curves. The curves that I find in the mountains of my country, in the sinuousness of its rivers, in the waves of the ocean, and on the body of the beloved woman. Curves make up the entire Universe, the curved Universe of Einstein.”
In some of my recent work I have experimented with the use of ‘spectacle frames’ within my paintings. The intention is to two fold. Firstly, it attempts to illustrate what I, as the painter, see when I create the artwork. Secondly, it acts as a mechanism to focus the perspective of the viewer onto a particular part of the painting.
This prompted me to think more about why an artist would wish to almost constrain the viewer’s perspective, rather than to present free rein to the viewer to come up with their own interpretation of the work of the artist. The ‘traditional’ view of a frame is that it is purely functional and merely serves as a way of allowing art to be displayed. However, frames have always been an integral component of a painting. Indeed for artists such as Van Gogh, how best to frame their work was of significant concern. In a sense, the frame acts as the boundary between the art and the rest of the world. At times, the artist may wish to have a smooth boundary that provides a seamless interface between their work and the rest of the world. Other times, it may be more opportune to have a harsh boundary to convey something that doesn’t sit easily with how it would be perceived in the rest of the world.
My use of spectacle frames within my paintings is a way of showing how my work is an interpretation of everyday life. I portray images with which the viewer will be familiar but I present them in a rather abstract fashion. The use of spectacle frames is intended to help the viewer to perceive the images as being standard, fairly common, examples of everyday items.
With the above in mind, and building on my recent blog entry Framed by Frames, I was prompted to visit The National Gallery’s exhibition Frames in Focus: Sansovino Frames. This represents the first in a series of frame focused exhibitions at the gallery. The exhibition features the work of architect and sculptor Jacopo Sansovino (1486-1570) whose work blended architecture into frame design.
It was quite interesting to note that this line of work not only evaluated the importance of frames but in many cases the frame was seen as being more important that the encapsulated artwork. It was illustrative to note that all the items on display were frames; all the canvases were blank.
All of this raises questions about the importance of frames and how they affect the way in which we see a particular art work. To what extent should an artist be incorporating the frame into their vision for a piece of art? Also, how does an artist decide the importance of the frame itself and on what criteria can a frame be judged to assume greater importance than the art work it surrounds? Certainly, this is given me a lot of food for thought.
Organising my sketch books I was reminded of some of the cut outs I was working on recently. These were inspired by my visit to the Matisse Museum in Nice and the Tate Modern, Matisse Cut Outs exhibition. I was struck by the strength of the simplicity of Matisse’s images. Simplicity seems to be carrying through to my current painting and is also the direction Robin is encouraging me to take in tutorials.
My Dwelling Fusion project is evolving into a pared-down style of working. I hope to achieve a certain elegance in simplicity captured so successfully by Matisse.
I have been looking at the concept of ‘frames’ recently. Not in the way that photographs or artworks are framed but rather more in the way that attention is drawn to a specific image or part of an image. Just as spectacles focus the viewpoint of the wearer on what they see through the lens (in addition to them being aware of the wider perspective), I have been exploring the use of frames as a way of capturing several aspects in one piece of work but simultaneously focusing the viewer’s attention on the core theme.
Throughout this exploration, I have been struck by the fluidity of the idea and how it runs far deeper than I had realised initially.
To begin with, I started by looking at incorporating spectacle frames in my paintings as a way of offering the viewer a focused perspective on my work. However, in time, I realised that rather than ‘offering’ a perspective, I was actually channelling the viewer to exactly what I wanted them to see.
During the course of this period of exploring the wider use of frames, I was reminded of a number of examples of works that sought to achieve a similar objective but were actually sculptures rather than paintings.
For example, on a recent visit to Malta, I photographed the White Shadows, a sculpture by Maltese architect Richard England. In one sense, this seems to be the framed image of a family. However, at the same time the negative space formed by the shadow falling on the ground provides an interesting and dynamic interplay between the sculpture and its shadow. Interestingly, this expands the perspective beyond the actual sculpture itself as the constantly moving shadow adds an extra dimension to the work while still existing within the overall frame.
Another image I have included is the iconic Pop Art sculpture, Love, by American artist Robert Indiana. This is actually displayed in several locations throughout the US. I have chosen a photograph I took of the particular installation in JFK Plaza in Philadelphia. In the same vein I have included a similar sculpture bearing the word ‘Love’ by Richard England. The letters are inverted so as to appear reflected in their correct orientation after dark in the water below. I particularly like this interpretation of the ‘Love’ sculpture as it uses the water below as its canvas. This adds yet another dimension as not only is the shadow dynamic but the actual canvas onto which it is projects is also moving constantly.
I have also included some other takes on the use of frames which I photographed on a recent trip to Malta.
