In seeking the truth we must embrace both beauty and darkness. Wise words which someone probably said, and which summarise something I seek in my paintings.
In colour; obviously the darker I go, the lighter the lights, it’s a simple act of contrast. But what I’m referring to is richer, like theme, matter, inference and atmosphere.
Truth lies somewhere between actual events and our perception, it is now widely accepted that we fill in gaps according to our imagination, previous experiences, beliefs and expectations. I have little beliefs, far too many expectations and judgement to be believed on anything but I try to stay open minded and pragmatic.
Inference in painting can be an intangible beast. Creating something which speaks your own truth is your only option, yet is incredibly difficult to pin down, which is why painters paint similar images over again, some do it for an entire lifetime. We are trying to create in paint what we feel/think/want to say, without using words. It is an incredibly nuanced game, the slightest whiff of a rogue brushstroke or colour, can ruin the vision- not that I ever have a clear vision to begin with. I just know when it’s wrong, because it feels wrong, but knowing when it is right, can be equally elusive.
To me, truth has to include yucky things we don’t want to think about, like death. Lots of artists paint about death, we are driven to it by our own inquiring minds; searching for something deep will often take you there. We also think about life, light, love of course, but without the resting presence of darkness it is sickly and meaningless. This applies to painting absolutely. To my mind, that is what makes a painting good, or not, whether it is brave enough to also present something dark, something we all know and are drawn to or repelled from. It gives a painting substance. An innocuous, magical, twinkling landscape is boring and emotionally flat, no life exists in this land of toxic positivity, it drowned in cerulean blue. (a pet hate)
This can be alluded to in many ways, through subject, colour, or through mood and nuance, which is perhaps the most difficult to do successfully.
I think about contemporary painters like Joanna Whittle, mysterious, juicy paintings, like Victorian curiosities, you want to pull back the curtain but yet again you really don’t; old boys like Sickert, with the blackest of darks none of which are black, they allude to the unseen, the peripheral vision making stuff up and scaring you; Bonnard, a master of exquisite, clear colour, yet they hold a melancholic longing, like the light is just beginning to fade and it’ll all be gone soon. I hold these painters in a corner of my mind but ultimately, I have to reach into my own darkness in order for it to appear in my work, something I have almost reached lately and now can never go back on. It is compelling and a necessary part of my development as a painter.