THE SELF-ISOLATION RESIDENCY 19TH JUNE 2021: DAY 447

When does a painting start?

'Somewhere.' oil on canvas, 2015, Antony Clarkson.

Finding a reason to paint, in search of the sublime.
When does a painting start?
 
At what point does a brushstroke on a canvas cease to be merely a brushstroke and become a representation of something, other than an expression of abstract depth? I am asking this question in regard to my own current paintings, although it technically applies to all paintings in the history of the genre. To put this into some kind of context, I am about to begin on a new series of paintings, or perhaps, more correctly, I am about to begin on a new divergence in the development of my current series of paintings, ‘Personal Topographies’. Through this new tangent I intend to begin to explore the notion of personal topographies in a much more surreal way by introducing elements which retain or suggest a greater feeling of tangibility in their relationship to the observer, whilst remaining only just on the boundary of interpretation. By this I mean including elements which perhaps feel familiar to the observer because they conform to universal norms, gravity, light etc., but are in fact totally ‘fantastic’ in their inception. What I am endeavouring to do here is explore this transitory point at which a painted representation attains the character or at least perception of a ‘real object’.

Something else to be considered in regard to this idea is how closely tied to the nature of abstraction the original inquiry actually is?

To be continued...