The Morphology of Fate
August 13th, 2006I am posting pictures of two paintings from my recent series the Morphology of Fate. Below that is a link to an article that briefly mentions one of them:
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What I find interesting is that the writer (?) describes the painting as pensive in the article. I am not really sure how to interpret that. I do, however, think it is accurate although I never thought of the work as being sad per se.
As the article describes, the paintings are exoskeletons of cicadas that are intended to be a reflection on the transitory nature of life. I wonder if the writer in the article describes the work as pensive because the bug shell is on its side and appears to be lifeless. I have to wonder if the writer had seen the second painting in the series, would they still think of this as pensive? I think the aggressive posture of the insects exoskeleton in the second painting exudes a tone of anxiety and otherness rather than of melancholy. Who knows?
I guess the other aspect that lends to the somber mood of the work is the spartan design and the earthy palette. I wanted these paintings to have a serious tone. The Morphology of Fate is my first series of works that has a serious tone.
I am actually excited about the series. In the past my work has either been provocative, funny or just downright strange. Rarely were there quiet moments in the work that leave the viewer to ponder a compelling question. I think these new paintings have that quality.
I am not sure where this drive to making serious, philosophical images comes from. The idea for the project actually evolved around a project I was doing for the advertising company that I work for. We were doing a brochure for a company that sells self-awareness seminars for business leaders. I mentioned in a creative meeting that we should use the husk of a bug as a symbol of change and transformation. The creative director, Tim O’Reilly, thought it was a good idea but that it would be too edgy for a commercial business. I liked the idea and thought it would also make a good idea for a painting.
Several months later I found a cicada exoskeleton lying on a sidewalk. When I saw it I immediately knew that I had to make the painting. I thought it would be really cool to fill a five foot canvas with this image. It just goes to prove the old axiom in advertising that a lot of the best creative ideas are never used. Even though I was disappointed that idea wasn’t used for the brochure, the bug shell idea turned out to be a really cool painting project.
I kept the backgrounds spare and white. I wanted them to look very natural in a gallery setting. Also, I wanted to eliminate any clutter or anything that would distract from the bug shell. I wanted the viewer’s confrontation with the image to be stripped of any distractions. I didn’t want anything in the draw any attention away from that experience.
The scale of the work is another aspect of the work that bears mention. The paintings are 5 feet by 4 feet. I wanted to make sure the scale was substantial so that it matched the serious tone. I think one of the local artists here, Robert Poindexter, described the work as monolithic. But I think the surreal sense of otherness inherent in the strange body forms of the bugs prevents the images from being simple monoliths. Like monoliths, these shells are inert because they lack a living entity to fill the vessel. But unlike a monolith, the appearance of the insect form triggers a biological response of otherness that makes the experience somewhat uncanny. A monolith in its strictest sense would not trigger that kind of a response. I think Pam Price was describing that uncanny experience when she described the first painting as creepy.
But I still think there is a lot of truth to the monolith analogy. The painting has a distinctly abstract expressionist feel. It seems like there is a habit in the art world of describing abstact works with a sense of large scale as monolithic. A viewer can become aware of the interaction of the various shapes and colors that create the form of the bug and experience the work they way they would if it were purely an abstract painting. I had hoped the work could be looked at for its abstract qualities as well as its symbolic, metaphorical and semantic meanings.
I think it is difficult to be a school trained artist in this day and age and not be perpetually aware of the history and impact of abstract art on modern and postmodern art audiences. It just seems like abstraction has tremendous bearing on notions of taste and value in art. In addition to incorporating this aesthetic paradigm, the simple, abstract quality of the forms give the work a contemporary feel.