A response to Crossing the line by Arlin Sukarlin at the McKee Gallery, Suter Art Gallery, Nelson Written by Luke Heal It must take care to be this messy. Great gloops of single paint hues in strings, layered, patterned in hoops and pulsed lines. Methodically, black on white - so the black cracks on drying and the white layer peeps through. A misstep (or miss-gloop) would require a serious cleanup. Any smearing would mean swirling tints and mixed shades. This is not painting with strokes, but with deliberate pouring. The fundamental elements of the whole are single drizzles, like syrupy atoms or squishy pixels. But with each careful application, randomness appears as the paint tangles and curls. Randomness to the eye allows the mind to interpret. Abstraction often means ambivalent stimuli, for which the mind is usually ready to give an interpretation and supply a name. A flat line becomes the horizon, a patch of blue behind criss-crossing black tar spiderwebs, the sky. Mightily coloured dribbles on heroically proportioned canvases face off head and tail in the gallery, pushing for a response. But is it symphonious, or cacophonous? So we stare, trying to determine the meaning behind the globules. Like life, they are best understood from a distance - if at all. Is there a meaning? And if not, does it matter? It might be simply a vicarious sense that it must be fun throwing all that lovely bright paint around - like a kid let loose with the golden syrup on pancake day. If there is no specific literal meaning, it seems better somehow for the painting to have energy and movement. A drab abstract painting might seem a little pointless. Then again, less ebullient emotions can carry weight. Experiences that do not necessarily correlate to words: sub-thoughts. You are now entering the realm of abstract expression. Not a subtle form, this particular breed of full colour-catalogue dribble dash, to be sure. To those attuned, who like a good thick skin of spasmodic pigments on hulking canvases, it is no doubt shouting a mighty tune. Unusually though, for abstract art, each composition in this exhibition has a name. A very literal name. The Windows series have the unmistakable grid of window panes. There are neat lines, masked to a sharp edge, overlaying the paint gushes - grids even. Like bars, clamping down the crazy. Reading between the lines has lines, with things in between. This painting is a little different from the others thoughThis painting is a little different from the others though. There is a relief effect where thick ridges of paint have been rubbed clean, leaving pigment in the intaglio valleys. There is more feel at the detail level. Sharp-edged blobs of opposite colour give way to painterly gradients. There are the familiar strong lines, but also spiralling organic leaf-blade forms. As the only organic shapes in the exhibition, the eye is drawn to them, as the eye is drawn to lowercase words on an all-uppercase page. Equally, the big gallery window framing lush leaves and paddling ducks is sweet relief from the fever dream.
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January 2023
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