The Conversation: The Painting
I obey only my own instincts and deep intuition. I know
nothing in advance. Often I put down things which I do not
understand myself, secure in the knowledge that later they
will become clear and meaningful to me. I have faith in
the man who is writing, who is myself, the writer.
Henry Miller,
Reflections on Writing.
Iain Reid is a quiet man, but on first meeting him you
would not know it. Having traveled widely, and being a
prolific artist and Lecturer of Painting at Ballarat
University, he is socially fluent and brimful of anecdotes
and wonderings.
In talking to Iain in a room hung with his paintings, an
understanding of the man and his work slowly unfolds, and
it is somewhat akin to moving through different coloured
veils - finding things revealed. His quietness is
something that's only gradually perceived - as an
atmosphere - as a subtle harmonic behind the gregarious
exterior he uses to negotiate his life - and his paintings
resonate in the same way.
In conversation about his life and work, two idea's kept
reoccurring.
The first was a sense of appreciation for the flux of
relationships that constantly evolve around him, the
ephemeral qualities of the idea of self in time and space
- the intriguing quality of how self works within this
flux, both with himself and all the people around him,
whether it be business, a conversation, love, or a
painting.
The second was the notion of the painting as a diary.
Referring to his paintings, he used the analogy of a diary
a couple of times, and for me, the misty movements of wax
medium and oil in the paintings around us, with evocative
marks and images appearing like memories of themselves,
left a definite emotional tone - almost as if I was
thumbing through the diary of a stranger.
...It's that notion of the painting as a diary that
fascinates me - where the painting notates its own
genesis. It's the movement of abstract elements within an
idea, and the elevation of that idea, or concept, to the
level where it loses its primary definition, and becomes
something more universal, that's become an ongoing theme.
in my work..
'...I look at the making of a painting in a similar way to
the way I look at life - as a continual unfolding. To know
something is to know it for only a moment before you build
on it, and then it's changed. You are always changing the
substance of it - until you stop. And the only signal you
have to stop is a powerful sense of elation, a
satisfaction...
There is very much an awareness, in talking to Iain, that
in referring to the abstract or to the figurative, for him
the two are interconnected, or even aspects of one
another, referring to each other constantly - and he feels
free to use either modality as part of his aesthetic
language. It's not so much the visual language that fusses
him, so much as the depth of the conceptual source from
which it springs.
...The decisions I make along the way in the painting of
-a picture is essentially conceptual decisions that are
made through a sense of proportion that is instinctive. I
find that the work adjusts itself to these decisions
automatically. I believe that the working aesthetic should
be automatic, an almost subconscious thing - how does the
paint go down, how does the mark flow, and so on. It all
becomes very much of a known quality when I am painting
and I have developed a sense of proportion and method
that's mine, and though I challenge it regularly, it
largely remains as a guiding mechanic behind the
emotional/conceptual play between me and the paint...
In the making of the painting, Iain sees the process of
the work as one of directing the painting, not dictating
it.
...I do not like to bring an image up, render it, and
leave it at that. On it's own, an image means nothing to
me. Implicit in any image is a history, a path to and
from, and these are all as important as the image itself.
The sort of work I am doing leads down an emotional as
well as an intellectual path. And then there is the
sensual aspect of the act of painting itself - there must
be that first feeling, of colour, of tone, attitude, and
then events start happening...
Sourced from many drawings and small studies on paper,
Iain's paintings often work out over a number of months.
He sees this lengthy time factor as having almost a
purifying effect on his work, distilling it and allowing
it it's own pace and identity. Over this period the
purpose, the idea, the spirituality, and the intellectual
involvement of the work exists as a part of him, the man,
rather than as simply inspired notions or temporary
fixations of the moment.
...It cannot be a transient thing - it has to be a part of
my life. That's the only way these paintings can happen.
So whatever wondering, or questioning that is happening in
my life, will inevitably go into my work. My
qualifications of myself, my thinking, my presence in my
world, what I am, is all involved in the work as well...
Iain regards the conceptual wellspring of his work as the
source of, and even the main dynamic in the making of his
paintings, but not the intellectual means by which to
interpret the result.
...They exist as reverberations, unconscious motivations,
and the works refer to them, but are not direct
expressions of them...
In looking over Iain's body of work, a sort of visual code
begins to make itself known, and in getting to know this
code and becoming familiar with it, we begin to move
beyond it, and it's then that a personal relationship with
the paintings begins to deepen and assert itself. It's as
if, at that point, the artist is released into the history
of the painting as only a reference point, a subtle
modulation of tones, as marks and ambiguous forms, as the
signature on the bottom of the canvass.
Perhaps the quality of this new and ongoing relationship
between the viewer and the painting is of similar quality
to what was happening with Iain in the paintings genesis,
perhaps not - but the painting continues to resonate with
it's own particular chord, and it's in moving past the
veils of code, that the viewer is set free to embrace this
resonance according to their own life, and their own
spiritual characteristics.
...In abstract or semi abstract pieces, I think it's the
intention of the work that gives it life. My knowledge, my
experiences, my history, my thinking, my spirituality, all
goes into the work. It's naturally a part of the work,
sometimes dominant in one image, and sometimes not so
obvious in others, but the intention of every work is
clear - that experience, that knowledge, feeds the
volition of my ideas, even creating the very need to paint
the pictures...
...When you're building a work like this, or a series of
works, the conceptual aspect, and the physical, sensual
aspect of the making of the work all happens together, and
I find new events along the way - it's like a diary of my
thinking - of the process, both intellectually,
spiritually, and emotionally, and it all works in with
that chaotic physical aspect of the paint that often links
in so appropriately...
The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new
landscapes, but in having new eyes.
Marcel Proust.
Roger Wells.
Paintings ISBN 0 464 23669 5
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