Non-objective art

My motivations and their manifestations by JW Harrington

The experience of blackness is more than having a brown body.  I want to engage people in emotions and experiences that transcend the body.  Abstract, non-objective imagery can convey and elicit feelings and understanding that are more universal and permanent than the transitory ways in which we often perceive humanity and nature.  Its power is heightened because it does not preach;  instead, it reinforces the uniqueness of the viewer’s interpretation.

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

Over the past two years, I’ve been pursuing 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.  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!

The Impossibility of Knowing,” the title of one on-going series, refers to the strength of memory and imagination, compared to what is “real” or “observed.”  In these paintings, a solid shape, figure, or silhouette interacts with its mirrored outline, against a shadowed background.  Something that seems substantive is augmented with its mirror, shadow, future, or past.  The interplay creates visual dynamism as each shape is pulled in its opposite direction, and interpretive dynamism as each object or figure interacts with its complement.

The Gallery at TCC Juried Show by JW Harrington

My painting Rending the Fabric received a Juror's Choice award in the The Gallery at TCC's 23rd Annual Juried Show.  The show is up now through the closing reception on Thursday 14 August (7-9pm).  
The Gallery at TCC is Bldg 4 of the Tacoma Community College campus;  parking in Lot G, entered off S. 12th St. near Mildred.  Open TWTh 10-4, Fridays 10-3.

With Rending the Fabric at The Gallery at TCC —

Why geometric abstraction? by JW Harrington

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.

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.

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 by JW Harrington

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.