I recently went to an illustrated talk given by the artist Maggi Hambling, as part of a fund-raising exhibition. She was, as predicted, entertaining, forthright, outspoken, although not as scurrilous as we were led to believe.... She talked about her life from her early art schooling in Suffolk, then on to Camberwell College of Art and the first artist residency at The National Portrait Gallery in London. I sensed a melancholic resolution in her latest series of paintings, North Sea Waves, vigorous and painterly coils of froth, surf and wavebreaks. She visits the coast daily.Unlike JMW Turner, she doesn't paint en plein air (she is realistic about battling with the elements) but instead makes numerous sketches and then works from them back in the comfort of the studio... in these new works there are no references to the people, places or events of her colourful life that we have come to expect, but a quieter reflection of the self mirrored in the forces of nature. These images are paradoxically fresh and sensuous in their use of paint, but with a violent and threatening undercurrent, the variables of the sea.
I haven't been a huge fan of Hambling's work before now; an artist that I was only vaguely aware of, notably from her weekly appearances on the TV show Gallery with George Melly. Then, through the whimsical laughter paintings, and the notorious semi-deconstructed Scallop on Aldeburgh beach changed all that.However, when you get the rare opportunity to understand an artist's work as a whole, inseparable from their character, their life, their experiences, you can see how how all these seemingly different elements of their work come together... the figurative sculptures, the monoprints, the portrait paintings and drawings - each purposeful, brutally honest and true to the moment.There was one pivotal image in the slideshow for me, an early painted portrait of an old woman, crippled by arthritis, hands twisted and gnarled like the roots of an old tree, a defiant and yet vulnerable individual. This broad theme of fragility seemed to permeate throughout her work, a tougher outer shell, much like the Scallop, showing the cracks of time and yet still weathering the storm.Hambling is a great painter, and I think under-rated, perhaps because her many artistic associations, her sharp wit and the prickly personality get in the way of the work; sometimes you need to forget who did it to appreciate it. I turned up the chance to acquire a signed copy of her new book; not because I didn't want it or think it was good but because I am trying to curb my spending on books. Anyhow, I left the event feeling much more motivated to draw, to paint, than I would from any artist's book. If I lived a little nearer to the sea I think I would also be drawn daily to witness its power, awe and solace, as subject and matter.
Wave Breaking, 2008, and Frances Rose II (in the Jerwood Collection, London.)To see specific works from the North Sea Waves exhibition (in aid of charity) go here, or to see more of Maggi Hambling's work, visit her website.
Canvasing, a small means of support
Do you want to show your appreciation of art by making a small contribution? Perhaps you have enjoyed viewing my artwork or have been entertained or informed by my musings on art in my artist journal... then click on the button below. It's not compulsory of course, and there is no minimum amount you have to donate (from one quid or a dollar or two), and it would go towards more art materials as I've used up all of my large canvases - they were kindly donated to me! I would like to develop my photography into limited edition prints, and any contribution would also support the cost of designing and maintaining this website. I'd like to publish a book of paintings and photographs too, perhaps through the website blurb.com... it would be quite good, I promise...[paypal button removed due to spam]
apocalypse, now and again
Every now and again I really look forward to seeing monumental new works by major artists. Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster's newest creation in the Turbine Hall at the Tate Modern in London is a scene of disaster... it seems mismatched, ill-conceived, too referential, derivative, a bargain basement of installation art... She has said in an interview that it's a memorial to previous Turbine exhibitors, set in the future (2058) when it rains everyday, the sculptures have mutated and the space has become the only sancturary for art and people, yet it's not a dark work (yep, the bright lighting doesn't support her dystopian view of London), and viewers will bring their own relationship to the work but the (too) many references to post-apocalyptic novels and movies skew the perspective...Unlike Louise Bourgeois' original Maman spider, her copied, or should one say referenced work seems to rely on scale to convey a message, but it doesn't seem to have any substance (the sculptures are apparently made of polystyrene)... she has seized upon the apparent zeitgeist of doom and catastrophe and tried to create a bleak cultural oasis of the future, but has merely mutated others work, then collated some obvious dystopian fiction which make any message seem as crude as a shopping list, and the books are all shiny new copies; some chewed-up or even water damaged books might have worked better... no doubt they'll have to be replaced regularly - FREE BOOKS at the Tate everyone... and the yellow bunk beds made me think of a quick trip west to Ikea... these objects apparently allude to Henry Moore's war shelter drawings.
TH 2058 at Tate Modern, London 2008 © TateAll in all, this work of works is all the more disappointing because I so wanted to to like it - I connected to the overall premise. Of course, I am relying on what I've read and seen in the press, and perhaps I will eventually warm to it, but I sense a rain check coming on... However, with the post-apocalyptic glow of an Eliasson sun highlighting a few Doris Salcedo cracks, with some Hirst-esque diamond superbugs crawling around a Whiteread style sugar cube mountain, maybe it would work as a chilling memento mori...A much more startling scene of cultural devastation was that of a stash of modern art smouldering in the aftermath of a London city warehouse fire in 2004; art imitates life even after reports of its death...Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster at the Tate Modern View a video clip of the Turbine Hall exhibit at Times OnlineView installation photos at BBC.co.uk