Pas De Deux

I wanted to paint a couple dancing together. It had struck me how most of my pieces I had painted so far, were solitary. I’d just had some success painting the red lady without the picture doing too much by itself. Could I manage to repeat that process? Could I paint my idea, my view of a couple, holding centre stage, fully emerged from those shadows. I had a go. There’s some fairly deliberate symbolism of dark and light, reaching for the earth, reaching for the sky, support, elevat-ion, all while surrounded by fire. Again thanks and inspiration are due to Alvin Ailey’s American Dance Theatre.

Emerging from Shadows II

Red Lady / Flamenco

This just sat as a black canvas for a few weeks, when I was in a particularly black phase. I really wanted colourful life to burst forth. It took its time and eventually it did. Inspired by  flamenco from the Ballet Nacional de Espana of this year’s Arts Festival (and maybe a little bit by the three flamenco lessons I had, when I was on a cruise ship to celebrate my mother’s 80^th birthday last year), this woman clicks her heels and it happens. Simple, unpretentious, just a wild red dance emerging from the shadows.

Bejart’s Bolero I & II

Did anyone see the Bejart Ballet Lausanne at this year’s Arts Festival? It was their performance of ‘Bolero’ that had me utterly determined to paint dance. The dance piece is set to the music of Maurice Ravel’s Bolero* and comprises 36 half naked men, plus a soloist. Initially the men are slumped over, faces hidden, sitting on 36 red chairs. These red chairs are set squarely around a red raised circular dais, on which a solitary androgynous figure carries the melody of the Bolero. As the music builds, the men move, crawl, are irrevocably drawn, to the dais where the solo performer is spotlit. The night I saw it, the soloist was a woman; I learned later that Bejart alternates this central role between male and female. Quite frankly, I found this piece the most sensuous, most erotic, most exhilarating performance of dance I have ever seen. I was desperate to paint it. Thus naturally….these are the paintings that have caused me the most frustration.  In fact I had to be persuaded to include them in this exhibition.  I want to paint sounds… I want to paint an atmosphere…I want to paint a crescendo…and I want to give a sense of the visual effect of that night.  I have a feeling I could go on painting homage to Boleros for the rest of my life and still not be satisfied that I have expressed what I experienced that night of the dance.

Harlequinne

One of the earliest paintings I did, or did most of it. I had nothing in mind except colour and movement and somehow it happened. I didn’t even know what it was. I just knew it was important. I kept it out on display as I painted others (or just painted black canvases) and somehow it influenced most of them. A few weeks ago, sitting looking at it, I realized what it reminded me… a circus type move-ment, Cirque de Soleil or the clown  figures of commedia dell’arte… Pierrot… Harlequin. I did a bit of research. Harlequin is associated with the god Mercury, alchemy and the underworld; he is a trickster with powers of invisibility, the ability to travel the world and to take other forms; an unruly emissary between life and death, the conscious and sub conscious minds; Harlequin is an individual destined to live outside mainstream society. The figure in my picture is obviously female, so “Harlequinne” will do nicely as a title.

Spotlight

Snake Dance

This picture, in some ways doesn’t seem to fit with the rest; perhaps because it is less about performance, yet it still is about movement and dance. It came out of a drawing I’d made on a meditation course of a blue flowing woman. At that time she was headless, possibly influenced by a body print painting I’d recently co-created (ask me about that later, if interested). Then when I painted her, she had a head.  And then by chance the snake appeared, as they wont to do at significant moments. So another picture, laden with potent symbolism…I leave you to appreciate.  Oh just one final comment, as I was looking at it recently, thinking ‘oh it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t fit….where on earth did it come from?’ - it suddenly reminded me of Georgia O’Keefe’s work. I’m not making comparisons just connections…perhaps something to do with the superficial emptiness and flow? 

Tango Life

Two Dancers 

This is one of the few that has no sense of movement, yet they are obviously dancers. I like its contrast with the life of the tango. This has a stillness and a sadness about it. I half wonder if the picture has soaked up some-thing that was imbued in the canvas. Originally I’d started a painting on it that was influenced by a friend who had cancer. He died last year and I never finished the paint-ing. Instead every so often I would add a layer and then another layer of grey to cover the canvas. And then one day, it said ‘time to be painted’ and the dancers appeared. I really rather like them, and I particularly like that they chose that canvas.

Man Facing Night