Mulling things over from 35,000ft
February was a month of rest and preparation, necessary, I think, before indulging in a year
of art making that I hope will see me create my most ambitious work yet.
The month started with taking Sampling Stylidium dichotomum near Whistlepipe Gully to the framer, which has totally finished off the piece, before jetting off to Thailand for two weeks of exploration and self-reflection. It came at a good time, though I must admit it was hard to pull myself away from the studio so soon after moving in. The reason it came at a good time, though, was because it forced me to pause and reflect on how I was going to spend this year at PSAS.
Previously, I’ve had a terrible habit of getting so excited and fixated on an idea for a painting, that I began making it without pausing at all. My trip to Thailand brought a lot of benefits and wonderful experiences, but in terms of my art practice, it made me step away from the studio at a point when my ideas were so fertile that I was ready to execute them instantly. What I learnt was if these ideas were still hanging around while I’m snorkelling with reef sharks or eating Khao Soi or on a scooter in Chinatown, then they’re probably worth painting. If they don’t, then life has done a great job of editing down my ideas to the ones that don’t matter and the ones that really do.
Longboats were the best and most efficient form of transport throughout the Krabi Province in Thailand
In particular, I find that the time on an airplane, after altitude has been reached and everyone has settled in and finished their evening meal, attempting to sleep, is when my ideas are most potent. It’s the isolation of being in a metal tube in the middle of oblivion, totally unreachable and totally surrendered to a lack of control, that I feel wholly free to let my mind wander and race and explore and dream up all the wildest painting concepts. While some ideas hung around, new ideas sprung up, and when we landed at our destinations, it was fascinating to watch which ideas remained.
So, what has stuck around? The first is an idea that’s not just dominated my thoughts for two weeks across Thailand, but for the last two years. It’s inspired by a famous image from the Old Testament, and the subject of many paintings throughout art history. It’s a gruesome beheading, at the hands of woman enlivened by the holy spirit. It’s a scene that is so violent, and so bound up in history and legend, that is feels merely a story in the psyche of the people who see it. But these stories remain relevant, they cut through history and continue as messages of injustice, freedom, truth and power that demand to be felt. These stories, whether Biblical, mythological or legendary are stories about humanity, in all its gut-wrenching destruction and beauty.
I feel called to make this particular painting for several reasons. My work is often philosophical and quiet, but for a while I’ve been having this recurring dream where I’m pulling stuff outside of myself – gunk and rope and oil – and I know that it’s because I need to make my art scream and shout, like Judith with the head of Holofernes.
The truth is I’m enraged about how our society is systematically set up to keep people enslaved, whether literally or psychologically. Our freedoms and liberties, culture and communities are held between the thumb and forefingers of powerful people who could crush them whenever they wish. And us, with our Netflix and our beaches and our BBQ’s and beer, are quite happy to maintain that dynamic so long as, like fattened battery hens, we have the things that keep up fed and rested and entertained.
The paradox of being on pristine tropical beaches in Thailand, while sensing this so deeply, is not lost on me, and I’m battling how to feel about it all. The best way I know how is to paint it, so that’s what I’m going to do.
Judith Slaying Holofernes by Artemesia Gentileschi, 1614-18