A few days back I talked briefly about a series of pieces from 2006 called Outlaws, small and dark figurative paintings of individuals sometimes looking out windows, sometimes holding handguns. They were a departure and some followers of my work were a bit put off. Some were fearful of the figures, seeing them as menacing. Most saw the fear in these characters, their past haunting them.
There was an observation I made concerning people’s reactions. Those who were disturbed by the images saw the central figure as an intruder peering in through the window. Those who were more empathetic with these figures saw them looking out the window. They saw that these characters were the fearful ones.
These pieces were inspired by some silent films I was watching at the time. These films from around 1918-1927 were made in the aftermath of the first World War, a time when expressionism emerged. Many of these films were dark and gritty, filled with raw emotion and violence. When two figures fought, it was not the clean, one-punch knockouts of later films. They grappled, clawing at one another in a horrible realism. One that stands out is Sunrise from the great F.W. Murnau, probably best known for his vampire classic, Nosferatu. It is the story of a married farmer seduced by a city woman who conspires to kill his wife and go to the city. It’s a great story that is dark and full of wonderful imagery. There is a train ride into the city that is a great piece of film. Though most people think that Wings won the first Oscar for best picure, Sunrise won the award that year as Most Unique and Artistic Production, a short lived award that basically split the Best Movie award into two parts. It was great then and is still quite moving.
Also, around that time I saw a group of Goya’s small pieces at the Frick in NYC. They were done by covering ivory palates with carbon and dripping water on to the surface then manipulating the puddle until an image emerges. I was taken by them, mainly because I fully understood the technique. It was how I had taught myself to paint. I saw it as an opportunity to express the faces and figures that have inhabited my mind for decades.
I only do a few of these a year now and the handful I have in the studio are what I consider personal treasures that still provoke thought from me, time and time again.
Redtree Times 