My introduction to the exhibition:
" Let me start by stating that I detest walking into an exhibition where you feel like you have to read a long essay to grasp even a bit of what the art is about, or to achieve the correct feeling about it. Please don’t take this as that. On the other hand, sometimes knowing something about the artist's process and intentions can add new layers and open up the work. I’m not into the mysterious artist thing, I feel like that’s just a cover up. If you wish, add some of my perspective below to the reading of the work. In any case I prefer you look at the art first.
Observational painting attempts to capture a changing reality onto a flat surface - and so is an endeavour that points to the unstable or ‘unstill’ nature of existence. While I’m painting, the light changes constantly and so does my view. Each eye on either side of my nose zooms in and out to create a composite image. I sharpen my technique, I try to stay open and to replicate the impression as faithfully as I can, knowing full well that my subjectivity will throw additional veils on top of ‘reality’. The limitations of our perception are evident- after all, when linear perspective was first introduced the resulting images were illegible to those seeing them for the first time, and the colour blue is indistinguishable in cultures that have no word for it.
Everything flows. Heraclitus pointed out that you can not step into the same river twice- the second time both you and the river have changed. In the Christian tradition, the river symbolises salvation- a definitive cathartic break and cleansing rebirth. A before and a forever after.
In this exhibition at Galleri OSs I'm showing a selection of recent works with a focus on compositions that deal with the surface and the limitations of the frame/ canvas/ painting. I’ve been interested in visual echoes, rhythms and patterns and have used fabric as a visual and material ‘reverb effect’ to the canvas cloth. A constant inspiration for me is art history, and in this case the use of fabric in both sculpture and painting where the movement of textiles are employed as a sort of baseline and supporting actor to the plot- one that can be studied individually as pure visual amusement (Van Eycks self portrait in a red turban is a famous example).
To me, the best paintings have inbuilt tensions that achieve some otherworldly spark as if something momentous is about to happen or there is some pent up energy about to bring forth a critical transformation. I paint fully immersed chasing the thrill of that tipping point, hoping some tension will remain on the finished work and be palpable to the viewer: some un-stillness. One of those interesting tensions is that between the painting as a ‘window’ and a surface- at the tipping point of entering in and out of an illusion, between the tangible thinginess and the imaginary space.
Take me to the river!"