The Absence of Symbolism

I’m not too interested in forcing symbolism into the objects I paint, some may say that leaves them as mere attractive objects, and I say, so be it. If there is any symbolism in my objects, it is more by chance, that intention – as it comes after the fact.

For example, it suddenly dawned on me why I might have chosen something like chestnuts; they reminded me of a time of playful innocence in my early life. But I initially chose them for aesthetic reasons. They came to symbolise something after the painting was complete. So it was a kind of subconscious symbolism at work, not intended.

Symbols in still life paintings are evident, skulls are mortality, wine alongside bread is likely the blood of Christ, butterflies the soul or transformation. But this code seems too much about the artist, and I prefer my work to be less about the artist, I don’t want cryptic works where viewer has to be detective, to seek out the meaning of the codes within created by the artist.

Its not always easy to tell what the artists meant in his construction of symbols, not at least merely by looking. We can hazard a guess, but symbols have multiple meanings, they can mean one thing for one artist, something altogether different for another.

So how can we know if we’re on the right trail? We can tenuously try to grasp the meaning, but we may miss the mark. Some symbols have a universal meaning, others do not, and context of the object is all important.

If you sought universal understanding in your paintings, it would mean adhering to universal iconography. But that might risk creating stale repetitive art. Whereas creating a more unique art might mean creating non-universal iconography. In which case it might risk being inaccessible.

Of course the artist may add it stimulates the viewer into entering a dialogue with the work, that a viewer should be made to work, regardless of the outcome. But I want to offer instant gratification, not complex indecipherable meanings, regardless if it cerebrally stimulates the viewer. If I wanted to cerebrally stimulate the viewer i might do better to write for a pamphlet.

Alternatively we can do some research on the artist to find out the intentions. But how many of us do that we when look at a paintings? More often than not, I think we want to receive a paintings attributes there and then.

There is only one motivation I am really interested in, and that is Beauty, and it is on this basis alone that I choose the objects I choose, not for esoteric meanings, and certainly not for stale universal meanings.

Finding meanings in paintings can be stimulating, even fun, but not all artists seek to create work embedded with encryptions.

My still life is not about sustenance the consumption of enticing foods, they are removed from consumption, seperate and detached from the viewer.

These are closer to the specimens one finds in jars, there is something about the objects having such a beauty that they somehow need to be symbolically sealed in time capsules, or trapped.

My work is perhaps beyond realism, so people are reintroduced to the things they have become blinded too, as my objects are beyond the things people have become blinded too – these are thoroughly alien objects never seen before.

It was the introduction of specimens preserved in alcohol in glass vials and bottles in the second half of the 17th century that made preservation of “living” forms, in all their rich colors and forms, a reality.

This painting’s roots are from the traditional still life genre, but clearly works outside of it – or perhaps in its extremities. In some respects closer to Abstract art.

The striations from the glass distortion, and the melting of an object’s reality, was tentatively acknowledged in previous works, but always as an accompaniment to the main act.

This painting pursues the undermining of its objects identity closer to its logical conclusion: near complete dissolution.

Familiar objects possess a consistency; we understand familiar objects as having a certain shape or size

The squid is less than familiar, and so its consistency already a little vague. But the abstraction of the objects in this painting ensures a near complete breakdown of consistency – though remnants allow us to piece together the object.

This is puzzling in the way we approach the work, causing a tension between the two ways of representing the objects.

What does it mean to leave behind realism to such a degree? – is it a refute of realism, or realism embraced all the more? And does it even matter, for who cares for the isms as a means to compartmentalise.

Perhaps the reality of an object can be more pronounced against a backdrop of its opposite. Opposites define one another, give their meaning and value.

This painting reveals a greater scope for working within the still life genre – for exploring its polar regions; it offers a gateway for new paths and journeys.

Objects of a still life being swallowed into a cylindrical vortex adds scope to the genre which often subsists on apples and grapes on a table.

But apples and grapes on a table will always possess that simple, timeless beauty which is impossible for me at least to ignore.

So this painting is about observing the balance and tension between two ways of representing objects, and exploring the extremities of the still life genre.

Glass bowl filled with butterflies solid and fluid in transitional states
Poetic flight of butterfly. Reality is the board upon which we are allowed to dive into a fantastical world where our imaginations are set free in imitation of the butterfly freed from the confines of its cocoon. It is in this freedom that the viewer becomes the artist, free to create whatever his imagination dares conjure. they are intended to engage the eye and stimulate the imagination