- Venue
- Derby Museum and Art Gallery
- Location
- East Midlands
As I ran through the rain in Derby with an umbrella, that was little more than a bit of fabric on a stick with holes in, doing its best to let the rain in rather than keep it out, I headed toward Steven Ingman’s latest solo exhibition at the Derby Museum and Art Gallery.
Nightlight. An intriguing title I thought. Nightlights have always reminded me of camping – torches and lanterns, in the still, dark night, letting off striking beams which cut far into the darkness; or just providing a small, local, segment of light, enough to see two steps in front of you. Was this what I was expecting from the work? I’m not sure. What was I expecting? Well, in favour of this new showcase, I had seen some previous work of the artists’ in the last year or so, so on my journey I tried to wipe the dust off my memory in order to recall the likes of Broadgate Street Lamp, Lincoln.
On arriving, I was immediately intrigued by the artists’ developed and progressive approach to his subject. For those that aren’t aware, to quote the press release, Ingman explores ‘the noise of fast moving traffic, intense colours and glimpses of architectural forms.’ This definitely runs throughout many of the works I have seen from this artist, and this new body of work was no different; though I was immediately aware that there had been a great shift in the artists approach to painting – both in terms of his palette and the way the paint is applied.
Works such as Lego Brick Bollard appear to confirm a departure in oils from a thickly applied approach in Broadgate Street Lamp, Lincoln to focus on the finer details, in order to capture a sense of time, of being in the moment itself. That is to say the palette knife is not lost, it has just retreated to allow the paintbrush to take centre stage for a while. The effects of this approach can also be seen in Treehouse Dreams where reflective patterns from the streetlights have been sharply captured and held in time by the brush. Their detail immediately draws you in, and once close, allows you to explore the built up surfaces of the surrounding trees.
This also reveals the initial capturing of the moment by the camera, of which the artist pays great tribute in many of the works on show. Two contrasting elements can be noticed here – that of movement, and a poignant aura of stillness. Both of these moments are at once captured by the lense, and then reproduced to great personal effect by the artist in the paintings. I could get into a lengthy debate about photography taking the wind out of the sails of painting, but I won’t as we all know that debate has gone on for long enough, plus I don’t have the next week or so to spend writing it. Ingman’s contrasting approaches to the expression of his subject matter appear to be on a par with one another, yet complimentary to that of a visionary. The artists’ attempt to capture the moment, the feeling of purpose and personal significance resonates in each individual canvas alone; each tells a story, each has a history.
Silent Reflections is a great example of the stillness of the night. No movement, no sign of life, only what civilization has left behind. The great void in the centre symbolising the blackness of the night; its varnished glow working very playfully to create an illusion of depth. I can’t deny that this is influenced by the triptych method. The only one in show, it aptly signifies on multiple levels the symbolic nature of the night (on later reflection I realised how naively I’d been instantly drawn to the colour itself, playing to the artists trickery, completely overlooking the ingrained architectural lines scratched into the canvas).
In comparison, Lego Brick Bollard’s main focus appears to be capable of capturing the movement and atmosphere of a gloomy, wet city after hours. The sheer blackness that is the night, seems to protrude like a beacon, yet at the same time recedes deeply into the canvas, existing only within the fabric of the painting. Its layered tones and delicately placed details along the bollard leading into the horizon justify an alternative approach to the artist’s use of perspective and illusion, which begs the question, what does he want us to see? Are we the viewer of the painting, or are we seeing these images through our own eyes? I believe it to be the latter, though you can decide for yourself.
There is a carefully weaved undercurrent of drama surfacing in many of the paintings, whether it be through suggested narratives or an uncanny stillness in the air. The key to this theatrical execution is that split second in time, which the artist has deliberately captured, which is then left hanging in the balance so avidly. Department Store and Memory within the Urban Space both create striking imagery through their manipulation of time, characterised by the artists’ playful use of the oils. The buildings appear familiar, yet are distorted by the blackening air, which creates a much darker aura to the imagery than one might expect, given the generous use of soft, light hues the artist has used. Department Store gives the resemblance of an architectural structure possibly from another place or time, to the point where the title becomes the only grounding to something suggestive of a modern, urban world.
These explorations of a nostalgic modernity, these suggestions of a place in constant flux with itself, are bound together by an emotional current discharged direct from the artist. Does Silent Reflections really exist, or is it a fantastical place cast aside from society to take refuge inside the viewer’s mind?
I could at this stage rally off some artists which the work suggests an influence from, but I’m not going to, as I think I’ve been suggestive enough already. Plus, I don’t believe secondary influences will assist you in developing your own opinions, as the work speaks for itself. I’ve poured out my thoughts, reflections and concerns on this body of work, and some of you are probably none the wiser. So why not let Ingman’s painting’s tell you their story. You might see something different.
