Conscious Play
This is a new series of large paintings on paper for 2021. All of my paintings are primarily borne of the moment I am in when painting them. It is this devotion to the process that gives them their ultimate identity. Yet, I naturally bring my interests and experiences to that sacred space so that the laying on of the paint is a conversation between the fertile emptiness of the almost meditative state that I embody, and the collage of influences within my mind that can’t help but lend their flavour to the painting I am creating.
In this series, you may notice a more playful spirit in the paintings. My motivation was to let my muse run wild with as little interference from me as possible! This felt risky but incredibly liberating. I was above all, curious to see what would come from consciously letting go of my artistic restrictions.
Let me explain what I mean by restrictions. Over time, as a painter, I follow certain whims or I feel drawn to make particular marks or bodies of paint, that behave as compositional anchors. Working with abstraction, there is a desire to impose some form of structure on the surface for the paint to interact with, so as to initiate a journey for the eye or to inspire the beginnings of a story to form in the mind of the viewer. In fact, the very term abstraction suggests that something tangible has been lifted out of context and reworked into something less identifiable. I want to go one step purer than that. There is no beginning with my paintings. No subject matter for the lift off. As far as possible, I want to release the paint and join with its exploration of the surface, so that my presence is as a facilitator rather than the director.
The compositional anchors are fine for as long as they are fresh or alive – active players, but once they become a prop, or imbue a sense of laziness to me, I realise that they have served their purpose and can now be let go of. This is challenging but wonderful because they leave an empty space for the unknown to inhabit! It signifies the entrance of a new mark, or a new colour or a new ‘style’ (although I am reluctant to attribute a style to my work as I like each painting to exist as an individual and confidently stand alone).
The title of the series ‘Conscious Play’ speaks to this desire to activate a playful engagement with the paint, while also getting out of the way of what the painting wants to become. I follow with interest, the discourse of consciousness, non-duality and the extent to which notions of past and future can be said to exist. To me, this exploration has fed into this body of work. You may also notice the introduction of orange, pink and even shades of turquoise! Some of the marks are new to my work: there are curls, loops and some pencil-drawn elements too.
As always, I want only for you to enjoy these paintings on your own terms. Bring your whole self to them or bring a mind empty of needing to interpret, translate or understand them. The experience is yours. Each painting is a space to play. Have fun!
After Hilma
Oil on Arches Huile Paper, 170 x 130 cm, 2021
The Hilma in the title of this painting is the Swedish artist, Hilma af Klint. I had an incredible experience at her exhibition at the Serpentine Gallery a few years ago. It was one of those occasions when I walked into the gallery not knowing what I was going to see and I was absolutely arrested by the paintings I encountered. To the point that I knew they would affect me for a long time. As I learned more about her fascinating life, I felt some puzzle pieces of my own life fall into place. It might sound extreme but I felt connected to her as an artist and as a woman. For the purpose of this short description though, suffice it to say that it was the paintings themselves that impacted me with their confidence, their originality and their whisper of something supernatural. I was completely carried away and I have been such a fan of her work since discovering her in the gallery that day, that I can’t help but be influenced by her as a painter. I wasn’t thinking about her directly when painting this, but as the painting formed itself before my eyes, I was reminded of her series entitled ‘The Ten Large Ones’, with their gestural strokes, their curling almost calligraphic marks and their feminine energy and colour palette. I named the painting ‘After Hilma’ to both acknowledge the influence her work has had on me and to thank her. It is a remarkable and precious thing when we discover someone long gone who we sense may have been a friend or close connection.
Catch Me
Oil on Arches Huile Paper, 170 x 130 cm, 2021
This is the first painting I embarked on after an enforced break from being in my studio due to lockdown and home-schooling. I definitely felt an urge to go wild with the paint without any attachment to outcome. I think I leaned slightly on paintings past as a starting point, but this painting took me for a ride and the final image is far removed from where it began. I love when paintings are so directive in taking the lead. It was my job to keep showing up and trying out new ideas until I landed on what this painting wanted to become. My experience of being physically prevented from painting really broke through some cobwebs and signified a new freedom of expression and desire to just go for it! The title ‘Catch Me’ leapt out at me as a kind of daring, playful nod to the joy of being set free, as well as the flip side of that when there is a need for that same energy to be contained and made safe by another.
The Way She Moves
Oil on Arches Huile Paper, 170 x 130 cm, 2021
I have to say, I lost myself in delight when painting this one! Its not easy to admit because there is quite a severe and formal edge to fine art, but it’s true. I delighted in the colours and I delighted in the ‘stuff’ of paint and played with what it could do and got a bit giddy with the exploration without fear of consequence. It was like catching a wave. It was like when you know you shouldn’t meet the eye of your sister at a formal occasion because you can just feel the forbidden giggles bubbling up inside you dying to be released! A massive aliveness. I went with it and I played and I chose not to tame this painting or interfere with the energy, but to let it be. The title ‘The Way She Moves’ is a nod to my young daughters who are fully superb and light me up every time they dance.
Floating Free
Oil on Arches Huile Paper, 148 x 130 cm, 2021
I was intrigued during the process of making this painting. It was as though each element of the composition alighted on the paper without ceremony or fanfare. It arrived and I was the observer. I have been doing a course called The Artist’s Way (not for the first time) with my close friend Lisa, and the essence of the course is about reframing what it is to be an artist. It is about getting to the truth of this very strange occupation that doesn’t naturally fit with the model of ‘work’ in society, but we nevertheless try to contort ourselves to appear normal, to great cost. The effort of feeling valid and accepted by external standards detracts from our capacity to experience our creative energy. The impact of doing the course this time around, has been for me to feel like I can let go of the feeling of needing to be other than I am, and to embrace my life as an artist on artist’s terms. For me, there is a lightness of touch in Floating Free, a sense of cutting the anchor and not minding what happens next.
Beautiful Sting
Oil on Arches Huile Paper, 170 x 130 cm, 2021
I was approaching this painting from a place of curiosity and exploration. I tried to let the marks come without censoring myself or judging the painting as it was evolving. There was almost the thrill of rebellion when painting, for example, a pale blue mark suggestive of petals or feathers. My method has always been to let the paint do the talking. If it wants to run, it runs. If it wants to disperse the pigment, that is what happens. This painting felt uncomfortable to me at times, like having to own the authorship of the painting, in making marks that were more obviously intentional – though crucially, without being contrived. Nothing in this painting was pre-conceived and I tried to stay true to the moment and listen honestly for what needed to happen. The title ‘Beautiful Sting’ references the very aliveness that feels at once exhilarating and threatening. Or put more poetically, the clash of life and death in the moment of awareness of both.
Great White
Oil on Arches Huile Paper, 180 x 130 cm, 2021
For me, a key part of being an abstract artist is to know how much to leave out. The spaces that are left untouched play a vital role in the performance of the painting because they serve as a holding place for the viewer’s imagination. Paintings that tell a complete and fully-formed story can leave us feeling unmoved. Part of the experience of looking at art, is the ambiguous space that is left open to interpretation where the viewer can inhabit the painting, and in that moment, be an active player in bringing it to life. In ‘Great White’, I have created distinct bodies of paint, each with very different energies, but how they interact with each other has largely been left open. That they have any connection at all is merely suggested, and as such, the composition behaves as a gentle invitation for the viewer to bring their presence into the painting.
Precious One
Oil on Arches Huile Paper, 170 x 130 cm, 2021
Occasionally, I work on a painting that has its own agenda entirely! They are the most perplexing and challenging paintings to bring to life because I don’t feel like I have any kind of map. With this painting, I very much felt like the painting was in charge and it wasn’t until finishing it, that I understood what it is about. You can see that areas of the painting have been layered and transformed over and over again until they eventually settled on how they were supposed to behave. I wasn’t sure where the power lay in this painting. Was it the darker hovering forms at the top of the painting that either loomed over or sheltered the space below? Or was it the raw, bold orange strokes down the left-hand side? I painted in and around and through this painting in search of its focal point. And finally, as it drew to a close, I noticed the tiny yellow star shaped mark which appears to hang two thirds down on the right. It felt like a metaphor for looking in a myriad of places, beneath filters and layers and dimensions which are constantly in flux, only to find a spark of what is real and true patiently shining, quietly waiting for you to remember it. Precious one.