Non-objective art

As you know, I love visual abstraction.  “Abstract” art may reflect something actually seen – but abstracted to heighten the impact.  Impressionist paintings are great examples of this, as are Expressionist paintings.  Further back in time, Mannerist painting elongated limbs and exaggerated human gestures, to heighten the drama of scenes that the viewer can interpret from their own experiences. 

One extreme of abstraction is often called “non-objective,” because it contains no reference to actual objects.  This is discomforting for some viewers, who want to relate a painting to something familiar or even to some thing imagined.  However, it gives the mind totally free rein to interpret meanings or to revel in the visual stimulation without meanings.  Non-objective pieces are “ever green” – always fresh for the viewer, who can see something different at each viewing.

Automaton (https://www.jwharrington.com/other-abstractions/automaton) is such a piece, presenting bold colors against a white background.  (Against white, even black appears as a bold color.)  I painted this as flat as possible, using acrylic gouache, to provide no texture – just color and shape.

Cusp (https://www.jwharrington.com/other-abstractions) is a new favorite of mine, because it uses a mix of pigments (Cobalt Blue and Ultramarine Blue) to yield a blue so “deep” I feel I can swim in it.  To heighten the contrast, I’ve surrounded the blue (graded from pale to deep) with white.  And what role does that bright red circle (or sphere?) play in the composition?

Color Abstraction 30 (https://www.jwharrington.com/color-abstractions) continues the series I’ve been working on for years:  each painting is 24” x 24”, with strictly straight lines or shapes on a solid background.  Here we have interlaced rectangles in white, Cobalt Blue, and a rich, ruddy brown.  I’ve created several interpretations of this composition, and have placed it in the entry of our house, where I can create new interpretations every time I come home.  (I only wish that others could visit and see it – it could be a great conversation piece.)

The Path

I’ve enjoyed the feedback I’ve gotten on The Path. It’s meant to be somewhat enigmatic — in the placement and intent of the “narrator” (who’s on the path? are they on it or above it?); in the nature of the black void on the right; and the ultimate destination of this solitary path. A fellow artist said she sees the texture within the path itself as a reflection — or maybe even an on-the-ground manifestation — of the stars in the sky above. I love that.

A new blue

Recently I discovered my new favorite color — it’s a deep, rich blue that I get from mixing Cobalt Blue with Ultramarine Blue. I get the “true” blue and good opacity from the Cobalt, and depth from the Ultramarine, which has a little red tinge to enrich the mix.

I worked on this to get the depth I wanted for Cusp, where the blue is pushing through white and has to contend with an unambiguously red protuberance (you tell me what it is). I was so excited by this color (it’s what I always wanted Cobalt Blue to be) that I contrasted it to gold in three 12”x 12” panels: for P-Generator, where I graded it with white; for Flora & Fauna, where I poured in onto the panel and then dripped gold over it; and for Quickening, where I mixed the blue with gel medium to create a rough texture around a smooth golden shape.

Lots of potential interpretations of these four abstractions — I’ve tried to use the titles to get your mind started.

Control? (Moving into action)

Life has no “purpose,” it just is.  Linear intellect and instrumentalism are tiny, tiny portions of what is and what can be observed.  “My” “life” is so important to me because it’s all I’ve been aware of – but it’s a tiny portion of what exists. 

First exercise: 

1)    Stretch each of my major muscles.

2)    Stand;  using a wall as little as possible, begin to teach my muscles how to support my body on one foot.

3)    Stand on both feet;  dim the lights.  Close my eyes;  breathe.  After a bit, imagine that I’m dead.  “I” am gone, kaput, a memory in a few people’s minds, but not in my own.  What remains?  A great deal, and what certainly is gone are all my concerns.  (Those concerns were not silly or trivial – when there was an “I” to protect, they made “sense.”  But without an “I,”…)

This was surprisingly successful, though I couldn’t keep it going for very long.