|
The Glasgow Art Club Fellowship Exhibition

'...there be Dragons'
Awarded the Glasgow Arts Club Fellowship, RSW 2005.
Walking through the rooms of Christopher Wood's airy,
late Georgian house, perched above the East Lothian
shoreline is not unlike taking a trip through the
artist's mind. Every wall is hung with his work: from
the earliest experiments of the mid Eighties to recent
paintings, some destined for this exhibition. At every
turn you find yourself making cross-references between
the works and so it becomes possible, even without
help from the artist, to construct a time scale of
his development as a painter. Here are the landscapes
with which he made his name and close by one of those
from a few years earlier, painted in southern France,
en plein air and appearing very different from his
latest work.
For the past few years now Wood has worked in an increasingly
abstract format. He readily admits to the early inspiration
of Nicholas de Stael and, while it has taken a little
time to reach a place where he feels comfortable,
it is equally clear that such historical reference
is no longer essential.
The word which most readily comes to mind, as I move
among Wood's new paintings is 'visceral'. There is
something deeply intuitive about these works: alternately
insistent, lyrical, emphatic and searingly emotive.
This is painting from the heart, in its purest form.
Wood is the first to admit that his chief sources
of inspiration are profoundly personal, ranging from
the birth of his first child, three and a half years
ago to recent bereavement. There is certainly a sense
of catharsis here, of painting out the emotion, but
it is also impossible to deny the exuberant optimism
of exploration. The idea that while paint is a means
of self expression, it is also an agent of self-discovery.
|
The first painting in this new direction Wood called
simply 'New Ground'. In it he began
to experiment with collage. The language of his familiar
landscapes was still there as an anchor, but now this
was no longer just a painting. It was an object. Process
too began to become increasingly important. In a similar
fashion to the 1950s master Alberto Burri, Wood applied
large pieces of plain, brown hessian to create a matiere-inspired
abstraction, redolent of the emotional scars which
articulate human experience. Not only though did he
add fabric to his canvas, but he also began to be
more aware of the possibilities of subtracting: scraping
away paint and scoring the surface. Here on occasion
his work seems to move from Burri towards his contemporaries
in post-war Paris: Tapies and Fautrier. At times Wood
stands back and, with an uncanny ability to know precisely
just what is enough, takes up a cloth, and wipes his
surface almost smooth. The prime example is ‘Breathe’,
which he is prepared to leave, instinctively, at a
point where the impasto dries to conjure a hieroglyph
or even, in the spirit of Franz Kline, a Japanese
haiku.
The undeniable, at times almost human presence within
Wood's canvases is not always quite so benign. Paintings
such as the huge ‘Cold Moon Rising’
have an aggressive, dominating spirit, driven perhaps
by inner conflict. Indeed the sense of tension within
such a piece as 'Intrusion' not only
holds it together but ensures that the eye and the
mind are constantly engaged. Similarly, in ‘Equivalence'
he allows us a glimpse of the void - drawing us into
its ambient depths and leaving us breathless with
a vision of the infinite. These are works which demand
time from the viewer and repay it in equal measure.
It is significant that Wood chose
to call another of the early works in his journey
towards abstraction '…there be Dragons',
ostensibly a reference to the old map-makers' habit
of writing this phrase at the ends of their known
world. The title emphasises just how uncertain the
artist was at the time about where his art might be
going. But the words also imply a typically dogged
determination to venture into the unknown. Again this
work can be interpreted in the manner of a landscape,
its horizon simply given a ninety degree turn or seen
from the air as with the work of the great St Ives
artist Peter Lanyon. Indeed, it is not too presumptious
to suggest that the spirit of St Ives haunts Wood's
house. Again the mind constantly makes connections.
Specifically in the fact that, while abstraction is
his principle direction, Wood continues to produce
such paintings as ‘Red Headland, Embrace’
which is obviously intended to function primarily
in figurative terms. While this might come as a surprise
to some, it is not uncommon and significantly an artist
who comes immediately to mind is the late Wilhelmina
Barns-Graham, the St Ives Colourist whose exuberant
abstract paintings were fuelled throughout her life
by studies of the landscape. Like Barns-Graham and
her Cornish coterie: Nicholson, Frost, Wells, et al,
Wood is affected by his surroundings. Rooted to his
place in the world.
Standing in his studio, with the light flooding in
from the seaward window, you begin to appreciate how
this affects not only his choice of palette, but his
consummate understanding of how paint works. How it
reflects and absorbs the light and how it can be manipulated
to create secret harmonies particular to a time of
day or change in the weather. This, surely is what
gives Wood's art its convincing subtlety.
Unusually for a contemporary abstract artist, Wood
delights in titles, although they are not always necessary.
When he does use them though they bring just enough
of a clue to a work to fire the imagination without
numbing the effect. Typical is 'I Can’t
Quite Remember', the title of a sublime,
multi-layered painting whose presence might best merit
the label 'totemic'. More than any of the works here
it testifies to Wood's increasing ability to succeed
utterly in his aspiration to create a painting which
expresses in its simple timeless contrast of form
and facture some nameless, fundamental aspect of the
human condition. In these latest works Wood asserts
himself as an artist fully confident in his command
of his created language of abstraction. Confident,
bold and mature, at their best and in such a work
as ‘The Climb', beyond mere
words, they have the power to burn deeply and unforgettably
into the psyche.
I am conscious that this essay has been peppered with
the names of artists of the past and these should
not be taken to suggest direct influences on Wood,
but should rather be seen as the inevitable praise
which any art historian bestows in his mind as he
encounters references, observed, understood and assimilated.
For while no art can entirely original, by the same
token all art is unique and ultimately this work is
Wood's alone. It could never be anything else, such
is the raw, creative energy to which these paintings
are a lasting testimony.
©Iain
Gale, September 2006
[link]
Iain Gale is the Art Critic for the Scotland on Sunday
newspaper.
|
 |

New Ground

Breathe

Cold Moon Rising

Intrusion

Equivalence

Red Headland - Embrace

I Can’t Quite Remember

The Climb
|
I am very grateful to the following
companies for their generous support of this exhibition


|