Phantoms 2013
Artist's statement
I prefer - where possible - to paint from life. Mainly because it is subject to the movement of time, to constant change, which seems to animate it with a far more vital complex of relationships for me to engage with. These relationships are, by nature, transient and elusive, and refuse to be captured. I am therefore compelled to stay true to the discreet way in which they suggest themselves to me, and to simply follow. But the stalking of basically invisible things is problematic: you are always on the edge of glimpsing the thing you seem to pursue, but to stay on its trail depends on sustaining this peripheral state. When I succumb to the instinct to view it directly, to frame it, to apprehend it, it simply vanishes. I can only assume that if 'it' exists at all, then the peripheral is its domain.
My work does seem to be gravitating toward some sort of thematic suggestion of drama or narrative, but I find I cannot approach a painting with any preconceived notion of something I might wish to convey - that is to say, I usually do, but it is quickly dismissed - or transformed - as the painting takes over. I have found that for me, it is a mistake to persist in imposing on that process.
For a painting to really work, I find I must surrender to it wholly: it must become a form of ritual possession; a purely passive, compulsive, almost mechanical act.
Artist's statement
I prefer - where possible - to paint from life. Mainly because it is subject to the movement of time, to constant change, which seems to animate it with a far more vital complex of relationships for me to engage with. These relationships are, by nature, transient and elusive, and refuse to be captured. I am therefore compelled to stay true to the discreet way in which they suggest themselves to me, and to simply follow. But the stalking of basically invisible things is problematic: you are always on the edge of glimpsing the thing you seem to pursue, but to stay on its trail depends on sustaining this peripheral state. When I succumb to the instinct to view it directly, to frame it, to apprehend it, it simply vanishes. I can only assume that if 'it' exists at all, then the peripheral is its domain.
My work does seem to be gravitating toward some sort of thematic suggestion of drama or narrative, but I find I cannot approach a painting with any preconceived notion of something I might wish to convey - that is to say, I usually do, but it is quickly dismissed - or transformed - as the painting takes over. I have found that for me, it is a mistake to persist in imposing on that process.
For a painting to really work, I find I must surrender to it wholly: it must become a form of ritual possession; a purely passive, compulsive, almost mechanical act.
