isual Artists' ews Sheet November Deember 019 Regional usin my last months in Frankfurt. These...

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Visual Artists' News Sheet | November – December 2019 Regional Focus County Wexford The Marshland Akimbo Julia Dubsky Visual Artist Panting Aileen Murphy Visual Artist Top: Julia Dubsky, LP, 2019, 200 × 150 × 3 cm, oil on canvas; courtesy of the artist Boom: Julia Dubsky, Brown Ghost Fanal, 2019, 30.5 × 26.6cm, oil and charcoal on canvas; courtesy of the artist AT THE TIME of writing, I have just returned from London, where I had my first solo exhibi- tion in Amanda Wilkinson Gallery (10 Septem- ber – 26 October). Coincidently, the title I gave the show explicitly relates to Wexford. I called it ‘e Marshland Akimbo’. My family home is in Ballymoney, near Gorey, County Wexford, and my mum grew up in Bannow Bay, where she still has a plot of land by the sea. It’s a marshland and wildlife reserve. I titled my exhibition ‘e Marshland Akimbo’ in reference to this, as well as to Rosso Fiorentino’s portrait, A Young Man (1517–1518). Rosso’s painting, which I visited in the Gemäldegallerie in Berlin, depicts a wetland backdrop that percolates though the sitter to his amphibious appearance. He has one hand on his hip ‘akimbo’, which prompted the second part of the exhibition’s title. ‘Akimbo’ simultaneous- ly denotes another meaning: legs splayed open. Pointing to two opposing gestures – both open and closed – the word contains a contradiction. In the exhibition I presented new paintings, de- veloped from semi-automatic charcoal drawings in which I began to notice a somewhat contra- dictory variety of lines and marks. In my opinion, they look as though different people have made them. Some signify cartoon, others esotericism or drawing from life, or a more objective presen- tation of material. It was a sort of style finding exercise, except it didn’t resolve into one; rather it remained multiple. I found this very strange, so it became the focus of my work for the show. e painting I titled Brown Ghost Fanal is one of the initial works that I used as a guide for the other paintings in the exhibition (‘fanal’ is another word for beacon). It was a fun coincidence – or maybe not – that this very small painting of a brown ghost laughing down at the entertainment of a green loop was hung among three other oc- currences of green that are quite large paintings; as though teasing their apparent size. A good friend, Amelia Groom, who is an ac- ademic living in Berlin, wrote an essay to accom- pany my exhibition. 1 She wrote: “ere is some- thing homophonic at work in Julia Dubsky’s recent paintings […] Like sounds that can point in several directions at once, these paintings are sites where multiple appearances coincide in a single set of marks – with gathered elements involving a variety of unsettled figurations.” e motif of a single eye was something I noticed appearing repeatedly in my work. Amelia wrote about this: “Eyes make pictures more like ‘I’s; they animate an agency which implicates us by returning our gaze. When the eyes started show- ing up in these paintings, Dubsky recalls, it was ‘as though the observed picture – like a sleeping subject – had opened an eye to check whether it was being watched.’” at refers to a painting by Nicolas Poussin, depicting Narcissus sleeping. Notes 1 Amelia Groom, e Marshland Akimbo, Press Release, Sep- tember 2019. amandawilkinsongallery.com It can be considered as an allegory for painting and sight: the subject is being observed without being able to gaze back – just like the medium of painting. I studied Painting and Visual Culture in NCAD and graduated with a BA in 2016. I’m currently based in Berlin and I’m doing an MA with the artist Jutta Koether at HFBK Hamburg. After NCAD I went to the Drawing School in London for an intensive term of drawing, paint- ing and tuition in the National Gallery and I worked in the Serpentine Gallery. In late 2017, I was over the moon to received the Recent Grad- uate Residency Award at Temple Bar Gallery + Studios so I moved back to Dublin and I worked in the Douglas Hyde Gallery. e residency gave me time, support and a lot of space to develop my art practice. Next, I look forward to doing a term in Goldsmiths and some smaller group shows in Hamburg and London. WHEN I WAS 16 years of age I began taking art more seriously, while taking after school art classes in Gorey Community School, Co. Wex- ford. My family were living just on the edge of Gorey town and my mother would drive me there on Tuesdays and Saturdays. ese classes encouraged me to make a portfolio and earned my place in the National College of Art & De- sign in Dublin. Last July marked my graduation from the Städelschule in Frankfurt am Main. I quickly left Frankfurt to move to Berlin and establish a life there. My first winter in Berlin was mostly grey – the sky was a bright grey in October, be- coming a duller grey in November, and a heavy titanium grey for a long time after that. I re- member painting fluorescent red and cadmium yellow grounds in the studio. When I started to think about what I would make for my current solo show in Temple Bar Gallery + Studios in Dublin (20 September – 16 November), I was already working on paintings that were different to those I had been making in my last months in Frankfurt. ese featured more red, dark greens, medium-format squares, motifs of explosions, giggling and running legs, as well as layers and layers of oil paint that were not always going anywhere in particular. At the time, I was asking myself how I could spend lon- ger on a painting, build structure and weight, but still remain open and light. My studio was in an old apartment where my boyfriend Eric lives and also has his studio. I went there on my days off from my job and sometimes in the evenings, regularly making tea and toasted cheese. e back wall of the studio, in between the windows, was covered in old photo- graphs, drawings and notes – notes like “darker colours!” and “expand the square!” It had imag- es of paintings by Helen Frankenthaler, Arnold Boecklin, Francis Picabia; images of Kate Bush; king charles spaniels; Egyptian drawings; and museum postcards sent by my friend Mikhail, including James Ensor’s De Zonderlinge Maskers – one of my favourite paintings. at wall was a kind of cheerleader in my studio. at winter I was unsure how to approach the show for TBG+S. I was making paintings I was excited about, but was not imagining any destination for them. is exhibition was my first opportunity to show a group of paintings that would be seen together in one large space at the same time. I became interested in this potential. e main gallery space of TBG+S is expansive, with architectural elements that I really enjoy, such as two columns in the centre and three small, oddly-inserted windows. If you turn TBG+S floorplan to the left, it looks like a drawing of a figure. In some way, I think of my paintings as alive. ey should feel active, like they are coming out to meet you, coming out for a dance, looking to make noise and when the lights are turned off, they are secretly doing something. At the end of winter, Eric and I went to Mex- ico for three weeks. When we came back, I had the feeling I was starting again in the studio – a specific feeling of dread and motivation. I really want to know what would happen, but there is a resistance that needs to be pushed past. My tac- tic at the time was to start anywhere and paint large dark crescent moons. Other supportive ac- tivities included cutting up children’s cookbooks and collaging them into figures; listening to ‘Si- amese Dream’; and reading Ninth Street Women. As painting shifted direction towards Dublin, I felt more inspired to play hard. Pinks repeat- edly entered my palette, while the studio floor gained a dirty yellow glow from avid pacing. As work progressed, each painting developed its own question, its own focus, its own figuration and space. How the group worked together be- came important – especially in how they differed from one another. e paintings in my exhibition were made with the intention of being seen together, in order to pose different questions about painting and about making a painting exhibition. Some of them do have a dark crescent moon as an early layer, now hidden. ere are six paintings in my solo show, titled ‘PANTING’. templebargallery.com Top: Aileen Murphy, Ursula, 2019, oil and cold wax on canvas, 150 × 120cm Boom: Aileen Murphy, Scuffle, 2019, oil on canvas, 240 × 200cm (two equal parts). Both photographs by Stafan Korte, courtesy of the artist, Kevin Kavanagh and Deborah Schamoni

Transcript of isual Artists' ews Sheet November Deember 019 Regional usin my last months in Frankfurt. These...

Page 1: isual Artists' ews Sheet November Deember 019 Regional usin my last months in Frankfurt. These featured more red, dark greens, medium-format squares, ... was covered in old photo-graphs,

Visual Artists' News Sheet | November – December 2019

Regional FocusCounty Wexford

The Marshland Akimbo

Julia DubskyVisual Artist

Panting

Aileen MurphyVisual Artist

Top: Julia Dubsky, LP, 2019, 200 × 150 × 3 cm, oil on canvas; courtesy of the artist

Bottom: Julia Dubsky, Brown Ghost Fanal, 2019, 30.5 × 26.6cm, oil and charcoal on canvas; courtesy of the artist

AT THE TIME of writing, I have just returned from London, where I had my first solo exhibi-tion in Amanda Wilkinson Gallery (10 Septem-ber – 26 October). Coincidently, the title I gave the show explicitly relates to Wexford. I called it ‘The Marshland Akimbo’. My family home is in Ballymoney, near Gorey, County Wexford, and my mum grew up in Bannow Bay, where she still has a plot of land by the sea. It’s a marshland and wildlife reserve. I titled my exhibition ‘The Marshland Akimbo’ in reference to this, as well as to Rosso Fiorentino’s portrait, A Young Man (1517–1518).

Rosso’s painting, which I visited in the Gemäldegallerie in Berlin, depicts a wetland backdrop that percolates though the sitter to his amphibious appearance. He has one hand on his hip ‘akimbo’, which prompted the second part of the exhibition’s title. ‘Akimbo’ simultaneous-ly denotes another meaning: legs splayed open. Pointing to two opposing gestures – both open and closed – the word contains a contradiction. In the exhibition I presented new paintings, de-veloped from semi-automatic charcoal drawings in which I began to notice a somewhat contra-dictory variety of lines and marks. In my opinion, they look as though different people have made them. Some signify cartoon, others esotericism or drawing from life, or a more objective presen-tation of material. It was a sort of style finding exercise, except it didn’t resolve into one; rather it remained multiple. I found this very strange, so it became the focus of my work for the show.

The painting I titled Brown Ghost Fanal is one of the initial works that I used as a guide for the other paintings in the exhibition (‘fanal’ is another word for beacon). It was a fun coincidence – or maybe not – that this very small painting of a brown ghost laughing down at the entertainment of a green loop was hung among three other oc-currences of green that are quite large paintings; as though teasing their apparent size.

A good friend, Amelia Groom, who is an ac-ademic living in Berlin, wrote an essay to accom-pany my exhibition.1 She wrote: “There is some-thing homophonic at work in Julia Dubsky’s recent paintings […] Like sounds that can point in several directions at once, these paintings are sites where multiple appearances coincide in a single set of marks – with gathered elements involving a variety of unsettled figurations.” The motif of a single eye was something I noticed appearing repeatedly in my work. Amelia wrote about this: “Eyes make pictures more like ‘I’s; they animate an agency which implicates us by returning our gaze. When the eyes started show-ing up in these paintings, Dubsky recalls, it was ‘as though the observed picture – like a sleeping subject – had opened an eye to check whether it was being watched.’” That refers to a painting by Nicolas Poussin, depicting Narcissus sleeping.

Notes1 Amelia Groom, The Marshland Akimbo, Press Release, Sep-tember 2019. amandawilkinsongallery.com

It can be considered as an allegory for painting and sight: the subject is being observed without being able to gaze back – just like the medium of painting.

I studied Painting and Visual Culture in NCAD and graduated with a BA in 2016. I’m currently based in Berlin and I’m doing an MA with the artist Jutta Koether at HFBK Hamburg. After NCAD I went to the Drawing School in London for an intensive term of drawing, paint-ing and tuition in the National Gallery and I worked in the Serpentine Gallery. In late 2017, I was over the moon to received the Recent Grad-uate Residency Award at Temple Bar Gallery + Studios so I moved back to Dublin and I worked in the Douglas Hyde Gallery. The residency gave me time, support and a lot of space to develop my art practice. Next, I look forward to doing a term in Goldsmiths and some smaller group shows in Hamburg and London.

WHEN I WAS 16 years of age I began taking art more seriously, while taking after school art classes in Gorey Community School, Co. Wex-ford. My family were living just on the edge of Gorey town and my mother would drive me there on Tuesdays and Saturdays. These classes encouraged me to make a portfolio and earned my place in the National College of Art & De-sign in Dublin.

Last July marked my graduation from the Städelschule in Frankfurt am Main. I quickly left Frankfurt to move to Berlin and establish a life there. My first winter in Berlin was mostly grey – the sky was a bright grey in October, be-coming a duller grey in November, and a heavy titanium grey for a long time after that. I re-member painting fluorescent red and cadmium yellow grounds in the studio.

When I started to think about what I would make for my current solo show in Temple Bar Gallery + Studios in Dublin (20 September – 16 November), I was already working on paintings that were different to those I had been making in my last months in Frankfurt. These featured more red, dark greens, medium-format squares, motifs of explosions, giggling and running legs, as well as layers and layers of oil paint that were not always going anywhere in particular. At the time, I was asking myself how I could spend lon-ger on a painting, build structure and weight, but still remain open and light.

My studio was in an old apartment where my boyfriend Eric lives and also has his studio. I went there on my days off from my job and sometimes in the evenings, regularly making tea and toasted cheese. The back wall of the studio, in between the windows, was covered in old photo-graphs, drawings and notes – notes like “darker colours!” and “expand the square!” It had imag-es of paintings by Helen Frankenthaler, Arnold Boecklin, Francis Picabia; images of Kate Bush; king charles spaniels; Egyptian drawings; and museum postcards sent by my friend Mikhail, including James Ensor’s De Zonderlinge Maskers – one of my favourite paintings. That wall was a kind of cheerleader in my studio.

That winter I was unsure how to approach the show for TBG+S. I was making paintings I was excited about, but was not imagining any destination for them. This exhibition was my first opportunity to show a group of paintings that would be seen together in one large space at the same time. I became interested in this potential. The main gallery space of TBG+S is expansive, with architectural elements that I really enjoy, such as two columns in the centre and three small, oddly-inserted windows. If you turn TBG+S floorplan to the left, it looks like a drawing of a figure.

In some way, I think of my paintings as alive. They should feel active, like they are coming out to meet you, coming out for a dance, looking to make noise and when the lights are turned off, they are secretly doing something.

At the end of winter, Eric and I went to Mex-ico for three weeks. When we came back, I had the feeling I was starting again in the studio – a specific feeling of dread and motivation. I really want to know what would happen, but there is a resistance that needs to be pushed past. My tac-tic at the time was to start anywhere and paint

large dark crescent moons. Other supportive ac-tivities included cutting up children’s cookbooks and collaging them into figures; listening to ‘Si-amese Dream’; and reading Ninth Street Women.

As painting shifted direction towards Dublin, I felt more inspired to play hard. Pinks repeat-edly entered my palette, while the studio floor gained a dirty yellow glow from avid pacing. As work progressed, each painting developed its own question, its own focus, its own figuration and space. How the group worked together be-came important – especially in how they differed from one another.

The paintings in my exhibition were made with the intention of being seen together, in order to pose different questions about painting and about making a painting exhibition. Some of them do have a dark crescent moon as an early layer, now hidden. There are six paintings in my solo show, titled ‘PANTING’.

templebargallery.com

Top: Aileen Murphy, Ursula, 2019, oil and cold wax on canvas, 150 × 120cm

Bottom: Aileen Murphy, Scuffle, 2019, oil on canvas, 240 × 200cm (two equal parts).

Both photographs by Stafan Korte, courtesy of the artist, Kevin Kavanagh and Deborah Schamoni