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The crystal series was started in 2019 with 'I will lead you (out of here)' and the loose, gestural style of this first painting rapidly evolved into a much more precise application of paint during lockdown.
The glowing form of the quartz crystal in ‘All these silent moments’ describes an extremely slow-growing mineral, but reminds us of both a small, momentary splash in a pool and a vast, exploding supernova. ‘Didn’t I give you nearly everything’ describes thin, fragile gypsum filaments as they expand into a solid yet extremely delicate heart-shaped cluster. Both canvases were painted slowly and carefully in very thin glazes during lockdown. My approach changed subtly, reflecting the collective feeling of anxiety arising from the pandemic. The crystal forms are beautiful and strange, emerging from the painted void, they seemed suddenly to mimic the alien appearance of a virus, becoming both ominous and beautiful. More recent works, such as 'There will be no peace', return to a more gestural application of paint, echoing the desolation of cities we have become all too familiar with. Cities are crumbling through human violence, landscapes are collapsing as a result of seismic activity and climate change, and as they do, they become all the more precious.
Encapsulated within a single object, we find our desire to accumulate treasures, tokens of love, displays of wealth and an understanding of our own and our planet's fragility and ultimate demise.
The glowing form of the quartz crystal in ‘All these silent moments’ describes an extremely slow-growing mineral, but reminds us of both a small, momentary splash in a pool and a vast, exploding supernova. ‘Didn’t I give you nearly everything’ describes thin, fragile gypsum filaments as they expand into a solid yet extremely delicate heart-shaped cluster. Both canvases were painted slowly and carefully in very thin glazes during lockdown. My approach changed subtly, reflecting the collective feeling of anxiety arising from the pandemic. The crystal forms are beautiful and strange, emerging from the painted void, they seemed suddenly to mimic the alien appearance of a virus, becoming both ominous and beautiful. More recent works, such as 'There will be no peace', return to a more gestural application of paint, echoing the desolation of cities we have become all too familiar with. Cities are crumbling through human violence, landscapes are collapsing as a result of seismic activity and climate change, and as they do, they become all the more precious.
Encapsulated within a single object, we find our desire to accumulate treasures, tokens of love, displays of wealth and an understanding of our own and our planet's fragility and ultimate demise.
