Biomorphic abstractions

Over the past two years, I’ve pursued color-rich biomorphic abstraction. These carefully crafted, curvilinear forms interact in visually playful ways, sometimes portrayed against wildly gestural backgrounds. The forms are quite abstract, some seeming more animal-like, some more plant-like. I’ve rendered these compositions in acrylic paints, oil paints, or oil and cold wax. Below: Polendra, Parallel Lives, Orbus, and The Color of Void.

Why engage in fanciful biomorphic forms? Viewers are more likely to uncover (within themselves, really) meaning and interaction when the forms seem organic – but are sufficiently vaguely rendered to prevent ascribing characteristics of any particular species. The paintings are also just plain fun to observe!

Through June and July, ryan james fine arts will present several of these large-scale works at its Belltown capsule gallery at 2207 Second Ave. in Seattle’s Belltown (Omni Dental), open MWF 7:30-4; TTh 9-6.  Take advantage of Belltown's second-Friday art walk from 6-9pm on 6/13 and 7/11 -- I'll be there and would love to see you!

Why geometric abstraction?

Solo show Geometrica is on view at ryan james fine arts, Kirkland WA, 1-31 May 2025!

It’s my intense sense of individualism that leads to my focus on visual abstraction – and more specifically, to non-objective abstraction, in which there are few or no visual cues to the relationship between the visual composition and any human or physical objects in the world. I want to interpret paintings my way, and I want my viewers to interpret my pieces in their individual ways.

Geometric abstraction forms the basis of many of my compositions. Geometric shapes interact with plain or carefully mottled backgrounds. Their relative slopes, colors, and heft imply movement or stasis, balance or imbalance, and even power relationships.

Unbridled Joy

I’m especially inspired by non-objective “Suprematism” championed by Kazimir Malevich and his contemporaries in pre-Revolutionary Russia, and generally inspired by 20th-century hard-edge and color-field paintings.

Color, in each of its dimensions, is vitally important – even in its absence. I don’t rely on a generalized characterization of colors. I rely on the juxtaposition of colors and values to convey potential impact. Any color rendered in paint seems ‘warm’ to me, because of the lusciousness of solidly applied paint.

For me, straight lines convey dynamism, simply because they move (and move the eye) directly and expediently from one place to another. Vertical lines are often divisive; horizontal lines evoke the horizon – and thus should be used sparingly (if at all) in non-objective compositions. Diagonal lines move the eye across two dimensions, and are thus inherently more dynamic. I often prefer positively sloped diagonals, because they may be hopeful to any viewer accustomed to reading from left to right.

It's trite to say that circles are “perfect” in their enclosure of space, but they are. Their constant radii are comforting, as is their association with eggs and with the womb. I paint circles as enclosures – more focused on the interior than the figure.

This Place at This Time

However, sided figures – triangles, quadrilaterals, and the like -- behave like figures (actors, if you will), within a composition. They develop characteristics akin to personalities.

Enjoy the lines, bars, rectangles, triangles, circles, and arcs cavorting on color-filled -- or color-less -- grounds. Inspired by Albers, Kandinsky, Malevich, and Mondrian, these compositions maximize viewers' ability to decide what the image and interactions mean to them.

What I'm reading

I've spent the past two weeks finishing a piece (What Could Be – which I originally wanted to title Infinity Awaits) that did not want to end, reading Bianca Bosker's Get the Picture, and reading a set of essays (titled Ways of Seeing) based on a 1972 BBC series of the same name.  

I devoured Bosker's book, though in retrospect I found the first section (about her toxic relationship with a deeply flawed gallerist) painful and useless.  The last quarter or so was uplifting, reminding me of the ways my eyes and mind were opened when I started painting.  I'm glad I read that before our upcoming travels -- reminding me to be as open as possible.

Ways of Seeing (edited by John Berger) takes the format of seven essays - three of which contain only photos.  The first essay essentially interprets Walter Benjamin's "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction."  The other verbal essays are critical screeds on capitalism and sexism in Euro-American beaux arts.  I had to keep reminding myself of the date of the essays:  to me they repeated the critical theory that I read throughout my time as an academic, but actually they were early applications of theory to art.

What a sprint!

After my vision stabilized from January's cataract surgeries, I focused entirely on planning, painting, and documenting new work.  Among them, two large (48"x 60") pieces:  Aqua Dream 1 and Aqua Dream 2.  The tilted backgrounds are acrylic, the biomorphic figures are in oil.  These figures have messages to convey!

In addition to biomorphism, I've continued working in my rectilinear vein, Influenced by Russian Suprematism and International Constructivism.  These movements continue to speak strongly to me.  See Turning (acrylic on canvas) and Dynamo (oil on canvas), each 48"x 36".

These paintings (along with 20 others) will become part of the rental program managed by Ryan James Fine Arts in Kirkland WA.  After they hang in a client's offices for the rest of the year, they'll be available for purchase.