There is a nice mention of my painting, "Constant Flux" in the review of the group exhibition "Karmic Abstraction" by Edith Newhall in the Sunday Inquirer.
'Karmic Abstraction' will be on view at the recently re-designed and expanded Bridgette Mayer Gallery until December 31, 2011. There will be an Opening Reception on Friday, December 9th from 6-8:30pm
Showing posts with label exhibition review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exhibition review. Show all posts
Monday, November 21, 2011
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Exhibition review
Review of my exhibition at Bridgette Mayer by Edith Newhall.
Philadelphia Inquirer Weekend section
Friday, June 15, 2007
p. W29
Loosening up
Since his last solo show at Bridgette Mayer Gallery two years ago, Tim McFarlane has abandoned the open, three-dimensional grid forms that inhabited that last body of work for a looser, all-over lyrical abstraction that looks vaguely like strands of chains or fishing nets over a gestural abstract painting. He has also jettisoned the square canvas for the rectangular one, which suits his style of painting better. The action seemed to stop short on the square.
A few of these paintings are just perfect, in particular Plume, with its exposed lower corner of a muscular, vividly colorful underpainting, drips and all, which made me think of the painter Melissa Meyer. His small paintings, Mute and Green Whispers, which have thicker, lusher surfaces than some of the large ones, hint at a depth and mystery that are too obscured in other works.
But I'd also like to see an enormous McFarlane. He seems to be stretching out.
Philadelphia Inquirer Weekend section
Friday, June 15, 2007
p. W29
Loosening up
Since his last solo show at Bridgette Mayer Gallery two years ago, Tim McFarlane has abandoned the open, three-dimensional grid forms that inhabited that last body of work for a looser, all-over lyrical abstraction that looks vaguely like strands of chains or fishing nets over a gestural abstract painting. He has also jettisoned the square canvas for the rectangular one, which suits his style of painting better. The action seemed to stop short on the square.
A few of these paintings are just perfect, in particular Plume, with its exposed lower corner of a muscular, vividly colorful underpainting, drips and all, which made me think of the painter Melissa Meyer. His small paintings, Mute and Green Whispers, which have thicker, lusher surfaces than some of the large ones, hint at a depth and mystery that are too obscured in other works.
But I'd also like to see an enormous McFarlane. He seems to be stretching out.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Review review
”The Red Show” has more alizarin per square inch than any show in town, with the possible exception of “Tesoros,” the PMA’s roundup of colonial Latin American art. While “Tesoros” runneth over with blood-red hearts and flowing red robes, the Mayer show—commissioned new works by 13 gallery artists and one outsider—is mostly abstract. By design or by serendipity, the show suggests the season’s festivities: bubbles and ribbons, ebullience, love and optimism. Tim McFarlane’s big, bold All That Could Be—a monochromatic work in shades of pink and wine—continues the artist’s motif of overlapping ladders that suggest teeming masses of people. Contemplative like Rothko but more generous and community-spirited, this piece may have antiwar underpinnings. For me, the title nods to the Army’s old “Be All You Can Be” slogan, and the flow is tinged with blood. Also notable in a solid show are Neil Anderson’s eye-popping Red Dancer and Charles Burwell’s Red Line With Three Figures. (Burwell is a new artist with the gallery.) Kate Davis Caldwell’s faux Polaroid paintings and Michael Manuel’s eco-themed stained glass with audio component by Clint Takeda are reminders of beauty’s fragility. Excellent show. (Roberta Fallon)
I've had a little time to think about what was written about my painting in the above review of The Red Show at Bridgette Mayer. For the most part, I have no problem with what was written about my painting, All That Could Be, or the show, but this line caught my attention:, ...this piece may have antiwar underpinnings. For me, the title nods to the Army’s old “Be All You Can Be” slogan, and the flow is tinged with blood.
I'd like to put another angle on what Roberta wrote, the angle that All That Could Be originally sprang from. At the outsest, I relished the challenge of working within the constraints of a certain color. The next level of meaning didn't surface until I was well into working on it. Sometime between start and finish, the idea of a title came to mind. All That Could Be came to mind because of the open-ended sense of possibility the phrase has. Some of that optimism has to do with recent events in my personal life. The reds, pinks and oranges I used, likened to blood flowing in the review, I saw as being akin to passion and life. As much as red can stand for violence and loss of life, it can also stand for the opposite.
Here is where the world of the artist and the viewer diverge greatly: what the artist is feeling or thinking during the concieving of a work of art means absolutely nothing because every person looking at or interacting with that piece of artwork will bring their own history, beliefs, and ideas to the piece. The work will mean one thing for the artist and can mean a thousand other things once it's out in the public. That's nothing new, but this is the firs time that I felt that the interpretation of my work in a widely read publication was at such a variance from the spirit of which the painting was created.
I've had a little time to think about what was written about my painting in the above review of The Red Show at Bridgette Mayer. For the most part, I have no problem with what was written about my painting, All That Could Be, or the show, but this line caught my attention:, ...this piece may have antiwar underpinnings. For me, the title nods to the Army’s old “Be All You Can Be” slogan, and the flow is tinged with blood.
I'd like to put another angle on what Roberta wrote, the angle that All That Could Be originally sprang from. At the outsest, I relished the challenge of working within the constraints of a certain color. The next level of meaning didn't surface until I was well into working on it. Sometime between start and finish, the idea of a title came to mind. All That Could Be came to mind because of the open-ended sense of possibility the phrase has. Some of that optimism has to do with recent events in my personal life. The reds, pinks and oranges I used, likened to blood flowing in the review, I saw as being akin to passion and life. As much as red can stand for violence and loss of life, it can also stand for the opposite.
Here is where the world of the artist and the viewer diverge greatly: what the artist is feeling or thinking during the concieving of a work of art means absolutely nothing because every person looking at or interacting with that piece of artwork will bring their own history, beliefs, and ideas to the piece. The work will mean one thing for the artist and can mean a thousand other things once it's out in the public. That's nothing new, but this is the firs time that I felt that the interpretation of my work in a widely read publication was at such a variance from the spirit of which the painting was created.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
the red show-review
I've just come across a link for the first review of The Red Show, the latest exhibition I'm involved with at the Bridgette Mayer Gallery through this Saturday, December 23rd.
All That Could Be, 2006, acrylic on canvas, 60" x 84"
Review on Philadelphia Weekly's website
Same review with photos and additional commentary (scroll down to "weekly update 2-the red show")
“The Red Show”
Through Dec. 23. Bridgette Mayer Gallery, 709 Walnut St. 215.413.8893. www.mayer artconsultants.com
”The Red Show” has more alizarin per square inch than any show in town, with the possible exception of “Tesoros,” the PMA’s roundup of colonial Latin American art. While “Tesoros” runneth over with blood-red hearts and flowing red robes, the Mayer show—commissioned new works by 13 gallery artists and one outsider—is mostly abstract. By design or by serendipity, the show suggests the season’s festivities: bubbles and ribbons, ebullience, love and optimism. Tim McFarlane’s big, bold All That Could Be—a monochromatic work in shades of pink and wine—continues the artist’s motif of overlapping ladders that suggest teeming masses of people. Contemplative like Rothko but more generous and community-spirited, this piece may have antiwar underpinnings. For me, the title nods to the Army’s old “Be All You Can Be” slogan, and the flow is tinged with blood. Also notable in a solid show are Neil Anderson’s eye-popping Red Dancer and Charles Burwell’s Red Line With Three Figures. (Burwell is a new artist with the gallery.) Kate Davis Caldwell’s faux Polaroid paintings and Michael Manuel’s eco-themed stained glass with audio component by Clint Takeda are reminders of beauty’s fragility. Excellent show. (Roberta Fallon)
All That Could Be, 2006, acrylic on canvas, 60" x 84"
Review on Philadelphia Weekly's website
Same review with photos and additional commentary (scroll down to "weekly update 2-the red show")
“The Red Show”
Through Dec. 23. Bridgette Mayer Gallery, 709 Walnut St. 215.413.8893. www.mayer artconsultants.com
”The Red Show” has more alizarin per square inch than any show in town, with the possible exception of “Tesoros,” the PMA’s roundup of colonial Latin American art. While “Tesoros” runneth over with blood-red hearts and flowing red robes, the Mayer show—commissioned new works by 13 gallery artists and one outsider—is mostly abstract. By design or by serendipity, the show suggests the season’s festivities: bubbles and ribbons, ebullience, love and optimism. Tim McFarlane’s big, bold All That Could Be—a monochromatic work in shades of pink and wine—continues the artist’s motif of overlapping ladders that suggest teeming masses of people. Contemplative like Rothko but more generous and community-spirited, this piece may have antiwar underpinnings. For me, the title nods to the Army’s old “Be All You Can Be” slogan, and the flow is tinged with blood. Also notable in a solid show are Neil Anderson’s eye-popping Red Dancer and Charles Burwell’s Red Line With Three Figures. (Burwell is a new artist with the gallery.) Kate Davis Caldwell’s faux Polaroid paintings and Michael Manuel’s eco-themed stained glass with audio component by Clint Takeda are reminders of beauty’s fragility. Excellent show. (Roberta Fallon)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)