George Taylor Art Blog: Charlbury

Showing posts with label Charlbury. Show all posts

Friday, 30 April 2021

Voyager

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Voyager

Mixed media on canvas

Image size 94cms x 94cms Framed size 115cms x 115cms

This work, made in 2010, explores, amongst other things, the two dimensional ‘spatial’ phenomenon which occurs in painting and, especially in abstraction. Obviously, it is not possible to create an actual, third physical dimension from a flat, usually wall hung, two-dimensional object, having only height and width, so this work explores pictorial space on a two-dimensional plane, bounded by distinctly defined perimeters or edges.

As some elements are collaged, literally, stuck to the surface, these do have an actual, albeit minimal, third dimension, but this is a projection forward from the picture plane, not, as it were, behind it.

This is not a constructed illusion or representation, achieved traditionally, for example, via the application of the principles of vanishing point perspective, conventional composition, or the prescriptive use of colour, formulaic modelling and tone to describe and allude to three-dimensional form. These techniques have been prevalent throughout the history of painting to represent, illustrate, stand in for, serve as, or be a proxy for recognisable objects or entities in what may be described as the real world.

But rather, it is the consequence of the juxtaposition and interaction, of a variety of often ambiguous, incongruous, and sometimes, vaguely symbolic coloured marks, shapes and gestures within a given flat surface area. The intention being to produce an image that is intrinsic and self-contained, and which contains no intended narrative, ‘subject’, comment or message.

The title, which is essentially a referential device, may refer to the Voyager space mission, or to a voyage or a journey, or to none of these things.

……………………………………………………………..

The poet and writer John Updike said: ‘What art offers is space - a certain breathing room for the spirit.’

Updike, on hearing a comment made by Patrick Heron, about the paintings of Terry Frost, to the effect that ’Frost’s space is deeper than Poliakoff’s and, not as deep as that of Soulage’s,’ also authored a poem called ‘The Moderate,’ which in a light hearted manner, comprises a short, comparative essay on ‘space’ in abstract painting.

George Taylor

April 2021

The Moderate
‘Soulage’s space is deep and wide –
Beware!’ they said. ‘Beware,’ they cried,
‘The yawning gap, the black abyss
That closes with a dreadful hiss!

‘That shallow space by Poliakoff,’
They added, is a wretched trough.
It wrinkles, splinters, shreds and fades;
It wouldn’t hold the Jack of Spades.’

‘But where?’ I asked, bewildered, lost.
‘Go seek, ‘they said, ‘the space of Frost;
It’s not too bonny, not too braw –
The nicest space you ever saw.’

I harked, and heard, and here I live,
Delighted to be relative.

John Updike.

Monday, 29 June 2020

Wheal Country

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Place and Time: Botallack Mines

I have visited the site of the former mine complex at Botallack a number of times, over many years, and consequently have retained a clear image of that location in my memory, which I can access from my mental ‘filing system’ at any time, almost like a ‘picture postcard’ that I carry around in my head.

Except that my ‘picture postcard’ image is very different to the stereotypical, ready-made ‘composition’ of the dramatically situated, but now long derelict former Crowns engine houses, dropping sequentially and precariously down to the sea, with the tide pounding at the rocks into which their foundations are set.

W.S. Grahams’ poignant poem, The Thermal Stair, about his friend, the Cornish born painter, Peter Lanyon, evokes the unique atmosphere of this and of other nearby places on this ‘Tin Coast’, with their bleak and seemingly, randomly placed archaeological remnants, which speak to me as much about the hardnosed and dangerous industry and fairly recent human history, as they do of an untainted, natural, and sublime coastal landscape.

Peter, I called and you were away, speaking

Only through what you made and at your best.

Look, there above Botallack, the buzzard riding………..

There are numerous, fragmented hints throughout this liminal coastal landscape, (as well as those lost in the mine-workings deep beneath the ocean) scattered bits and pieces, made as much from concrete and wrought iron, as from stone, which now abstracted from their original context, are gradually in the process of being reclaimed by nature and defaced by man, offering only vague clues as to their actual purpose within the whole.

So a pictorial illusion, a realistic representation combining constructed perspective with ‘meticulous craft and miraculous detail’, to paraphrase Robert Motherwell; like a mere ‘picture postcard’, would not for me, do justice to the feelings and responses, these once unblemished natural coastal locations, now scarred and littered with strange and abandoned post-industrial detritus and relics, generate.

Therefore, a metaphorical and symbolic synthesis of what I have felt, and seen as a result of directly experiencing this dramatic location over a long period of time, a kind of abstracted reinvention, rather than a mere illustrative copy, is for me a truer means of expressing my particular sense of this place.

I do not rely on photographs to make an image, that would be disingenuous and counterintuitive, but I have included a few of the snaps I took at Botallack around ten years ago, simply as references for some of the visual elements used in Wheal Country.

George Taylor

Tuesday, 21 April 2015

...and THIS is why I love Artweeks!

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Amidst a sea rolling with giant waves it’s easy to become disorientated, and faced with the Oxfordshire Artweeks guide it’s similarly tricky to orientate yourself. You’re desperate to dive in the enticing waters, but you’re not sure what kind of an experience you’re going to encounter, as the offer is simply overwhelming.

How to find the needles in the haystacks? Separate the wheat from the chaff? Find those diamonds in the rough? Sometimes I think you’ve just got to dive in and hope for the best.

I hadn’t been to Charlbury until last week. What a charming place it is. Bigger than I’d anticipated; and, that Friday, full to the rafters of Artweeks activities and guide grasping gad-abouts, hubby, off-spring and I included. In and around Charlbury we saw some good art, some ‘fun’ art, some inoffensive living-room ‘art’, some garden art… and at venue 161 we saw some stunning art.

Venue 161 offered everything one really wants in an Artweeks venue. A ‘Through the Keyhole’ style insight into who lives in a house like this. Turns out two artists who’ve recently relocated back to the Cotswolds from the Isle of Wight do. They were both exhibiting in different parts of their house, and exhibiting in the glass house in their back garden, which was once home to a hot tub, was the nephew of one of the artists. The artists’ work was unrelated, the welcome was warm, the exchange was fun, and the art was interesting… In a really good way. Practicing artists, at different stages in their developing careers, working through their concepts, and happy to chat to curious visitors about their processes and inspiration. The artists I’m referring to were George Taylor, Janice Thwaites, and Tim Collard – click through to their websites, and return to check their work out as part of the Oxfordshire Artweeks Christmas exhibition in November (there’ll be more info on the Artweeks website in due course), or get in touch with George Taylor through his website as he offers private studio visits by prior arrangement.

Anyway, the work… it was all good, and all interesting, but George Taylor’s was exceptional (see the below images). You know that slap on the forehead between the eyes sensation? That shock encounter of something really quite special that takes you by surprise because you weren’t actively looking for it? That. I sneaked up on George, he was sat at his computer with his back to the exhibition space. This gave me time to roam, inspect and admire his work without that feeling of being ‘watched by the artist’, which is sometimes a bit uncomfortable, particularly if the work’s rubbish and you spend your time circulating trying to think of positive feedback that doesn’t leave you feeling like a liar. Anyway, as I circulated in his direction I found myself moved to exclaim just how much I was enjoying his work. The layers, the textures, the composition, the application of paint and pastels, the scrapes, the scratches, the scalpel cutting away and revealing unexpected colour combinations – bloody brilliant! All works imbued with a very specific sense of place. Waves and washes of atmosphere, abstracted landscapes and seascapes all with a very real sense of history and time. Many of them watery and Isle of Wight-esque, Taylor’s work is sensational, in the literal sense of the word. These sculptural, almost architectural, paintings take the viewer on a journey, they’re mesmeric, captivating. This is highly idiosyncratic, great painting. It’s the kind of work that you want to invest in, and that you want to invest time in. I can imagine discovering new aspects of it as it grows older with you – like an adventure that you and the painting would embark upon together. I could go on, I could definitely invest, and may very well do just that come November, and THIS is why I love Artweeks!

Original post: http://sarahmayhewcraddock.com/2014/05/23/and-this-is-why-i-love-artweeks/

George Taylor website