LISA GWEN_

(AG)²

Confessions of an artist

Walking into the Auberge d’Italie a few days before Alfred Chircop’s exhibition opened to the public, I was utterly stunned, shocked even.

Most of his paintings had not yet been hung, they were still propped up against the walls of the airy Auberge’s corridors, yet although the paintings were unmistakably his, they bore little semblance to his previous body of work which is forever impressed in my mind. I searched the large surfaces, for traces of what once was, yet there was little for me to latch onto. My first impression, and I can’t say this any other way, was of utter disappointment. I think back to the last exhibition of watercolour abstracts at Middlesea House, and there seems to be an ocean separating the two shows. Then again, whoever said that first impressions were right? Long-lasting maybe, right not necessarily.

His once intricate works, full of complex sophisticated forms, encapsulating hidden worlds within and beneath gloriously iridescent hues, have been replaced, eradicated even. What I now picture before my eyes is an explosion of colour, a not-so-silent scream which compels you to a point that you dare not look away… and for this reason I am reminded of the oft disquieting yet intensely captivating works of Raymond Pitré.

Yet I have to admit that my initial reaction and impression was hasty and judgemental. I, like many others, expected more of the same, more of the Chircop that Malta has grown accustomed to. Chircop was almost dependable that way. High expectations any expectation for that matter, rarely lives up to what we conjure in our mind’s eye. He is, after all, the man who managed, almost single-handedly, to convert many of those who seemed rebuked, offended and utterly baffled by the abstract idiom when it hit our shores. So I comfort myself into thinking that my initial reaction wasn’t totally unfounded. Looking back however, I was foolish to think that at 70 something, Chircop’s artistic evolution had ceased to unravel.

So I went to see the works a second time, and on that occasion I was shocked for a very different reason: staring at me right in the eye, directly in front of the Auberge’s main entrance, was some kind of football display of all things… It was the first thing to “greet” each and every visitor entering the building and as such thoroughly overshadowed the paintings on display. I cannot understand how the MTA, the ministry or whoever the organiser, could allow for two such inherently jarring exhibitions to co-habit the same space.

Returning to Chircop’s works however… On my second viewing, I tried to look and delve deeper… yet these works, these immense works, no longer have that depth of space in which you can easily lose yourself. The expressive brush-strokes covering large expanses of the canvases, take charge of the senses of passers-by, and the once hovering forms receding deep within the painting’s surface, are now advancing (at times menacingly) into the visitor’s space.

The works have lost their quiet tranquillity – a crucial element also heightened by the artist’s choice of palette – that sense of spiritual abandon; instead they seem to be questioning the very nature of existence and Chircop seems to be questioning his own existence. The strong sensation imparted by these paintings was somewhat explained when I read Mario Buhagiar’s appreciation quoting Chircop’s influence from the writings of Teilhard de Chardin’s as well as the Book of Psalms. The paintings all at once seemed to gain a new-found significance.

Tranquillity has thus given way to an almost aggressive innate force which leaps and bounds. This palpable charge coupled with sheer magnitude is what makes these works so irresistible... yet I do feel that the intensity and immensity of the paintings is such that the individual works required more breathing space. If this had been employed, the visitors’ focus and attention could have been better invested in any one work, before the next explosion of colour whisked you away.

Most of the paintings are densely packed, a quasi vacuum or horror vaquii if you like. Layer upon layer, colour upon colour, with texture abounding in places, while in others the pigment is left almost translucent and the markings of the brush are clearly evident to the naked eye. Weight is distributed accordingly, often shifting dramatically from top to bottom or from left to right of the painting’s surface. 

Chircop is undeniably a purely abstract artist seemingly in search of answers to his lifelong questions, the frustrations of which are clearly manifest in his bold renderings of inexplicable and unfathomable expanses of sheer uninhibited colour. His paintings are public confessions of his every doubt, fear, victory and goal. It is hard to attach some worldly aspect or association to these works; at most one can try to detect an emotion or fleeting sensation… Yet these paintings are visual testimony to a man’s struggle to release the undying artistic passion trapped within an ultimately expiring and withering body.

WHAT YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE MISSED IN 2008 

I was given the challenge of taking a look at the visual art shows that took place over last year to see which of the shows were on the not-to-be-missed list and which got people talking… 

The Start artists definitely made a come last year, not only with group or collective shows, but also with solo exhibitions. It was a busy year for Raphael Vella who organised Reading Cabinets at SJC and also published an accompanying book among many other projects; whilst Pierre Portelli created a huge concrete structure titled Greymatter, which was placed upon the entire stretch of marble flooring of SJC’s main gallery. Returning to the book-theme and the written word, last year Ruth Bianco set up a show titled Mile of Paper at the National Museum of Fine Arts, which used the ground floor’s picture galleries instead of the purposely designated temporary exhibition space. What these exhibitions had in common was the extent to which the three artists challenged the space at their disposal, either by literally building structures which visitors had to climb on, slalom and weave through or draw open in order to reveal their contents.

2008 was also marked by prestigious commissions to celebrate the year of Intercultural Dialogue for which Norbert Francis Attard created 50 blown-up photographs titled Where are you from? for Freedom Square in Valletta, which became an open-air gallery for three months or so and gave the dilapidated City-Gate some much needed invigoration – an initiative which will hopefully be upheld during the course of the year

Yet the most significant step for art in Malta has been Mark Mangion’s initiative to set up the Malta Contemporary Art foundation in an industrial warehouse in Marsa. The first visual art show was a collective exhibition with 18 participants, nine of which comprising the Start group, who had not collaborated on a project since the Blitz exhibition held in 2005.

In comparison to the conceptual art or installation-based exhibitions, the shows pertinent to the realms of painting appeared to fall short in standards and quality when compared to the vast number of solo and collective exhibitions organised over the span of the last 12 months.

 However, there have been a number of shows which caused a positive stir: one of the more memorable shows was the Scent exhibition which utilised the unprecedented venue of St John’s Cavalier to host a collective exhibition of paintings the likes and calibre of which has not been seen or felt in the country for a number of years. The works of Anton Grech, Austin Camilleri, Vince Briffa, Pawl Carbonaro and John Grima graced the roughly hewn walls of the Cavalier.  There was however, an immediately evident disparity between three of the Start artists who worked in a semi-abstract and figurative idiom and the two Gozo-based artists who worked in a strictly non-representational “style”.

Last year, French artist based in Malta, Laurent Muller, set-up an impressive show with some 96 pieces, titled Itinéraires at the Auberge d’Italie. Here the artist presented series of abstract minimal works and figurative pieces in ink, as well as engravings. Celia Borg Cardona also organised a strong show at Gallery G with her People Watching exhibition featuring paintings with all sorts of precarious and awkward angles or viewpoints; whilst Isabelle Borg’s Strange Cargo at the National Museum of Fine Arts (underway till January 30) saw the return of the artist’s iconic paintings in suitcases.

Caesar Attard was the chosen candidate for last year’s BoV retrospective, which was an insightful journey into the multifaceted and experimental nature of an artist whom I reckon will remain forever young.

Three exhibitions were held in 2008 for artists who passed away in recent times. Grazzi Malta was an exhibition of works by Olaug Vethal, organised by Christine Xuereb as homage to the life and work of the Norwegian artist. Whilst last June an exhibition with Ebba von Fersen Balzan’s sketchbook drawings was set up at NUVO art and dine in Marsascala, and later in the year an extensive publication of her works was also published. Another exhibition to commemorate the life and work of Carmelo Mangion, who passed away in 1997 was held at the Caraffa Stores, Vittoriosa Waterfront, for which a grand mammoth of book was also published.

Heritage Malta (HM) also put up some interesting shows: worthy of mention are the Victor Pasmore commemorative exhibition, Victor Koulbak’s unique series of silverpoint works and Anthony Catania’s Piper’s Requiem. HM should also be applauded for making the Tal-Pilar Church available for temporary shows: Anna Nightingale’s exhibition for instance marked a significant departure from the norm, however proper hanging and lighting facilities need to be addressed should the space be considered for future shows.

Nevertheless, 2008 was not only a year of exhibitions, but also one in which new spaces for contemporary art emerged: photographer Alexandra Pace converted a four storey Valletta town-house into a gallery which kicked off with a four show project, which she collectively titled Redprints. The gallery - No. 68 St Lucy Street is open for the proposal of other events and projects. Besides No. 68, BPC opened their own gallery adjacent to the company’s main premises; the designation and function of this gallery however, remains somewhat uncertain and nothing has been heard since the first exhibition - a collective show featuring the works of 22 artists, came to an end.

Although art in Malta is considered backward in relation to other countries, it is rapidly evolving, and Maltese artists are churning out some impressive work and talent. 2008 has been an eventful year for the arts…next on the list is a proper museum to host modern and contemporary art.

Watching people watchers

We are all victims of people watchers. Nevertheless we are often also the culprits who commit the same crime to which we fall victim.

People watching, sometimes also called crowd watching is literally the act of observing people - their actions, reactions and interactions - usually without their knowledge. This does not necessarily involve an element of eavesdropping, however sound and noise pose a significant contribution to the overall ‘experience’ enhancement.

It is often deemed a casual hobby, yet people watching can also be used formally as a means for sociological, anthropological or even psychological research.

People watching is a popular and contemporary practice, which seems to denote that those who do not dare to partake in the action – whatever this may be - just watch. This voyeuristic tendency (minus any sexual connotation) has also been the theme of a British sitcom, simply titled Watching. Moreover, in 2000, a collective exhibition held at the Charles H. MacNider Art Museum in Iowa, was specifically titled People Watchers; the show featured the works of Isabel Bishop (1902-1988), Adolf Dehn (1895-1968), Reginald Marsh (1898-1954), and Grant Wood (1891-1942).

It therefore comes as no surprise that Celia Borg Cardona has dedicated her most recent series of paintings to the art of people watching – a hobby (or habit?) which she seems incessantly preoccupied with and which reveals her fascination with human interaction.

Held at Gallery G, Ms Borg Cardona’s paintings do not fail to reveal her virtuosity and confident handling of the medium of oil, acrylic, charcoal or even pastel. However her virtuosity was never in doubt. The different take on this exhibition is an added veil of self-assurance when it comes to choosing or deciding on that crucial moment – between unfinished or overworked - in which a painting can be declared complete.

The qualities which she displayed in her studies, preparatory sketches or in the occasional and sporadic works shown in previous exhibitions have now become part and parcel of her present oeuvre. She knows when a work is complete even though this may seem otherwise to some viewers; she is not afraid to leave entire segments of the canvas or board vacant and void of paint.

The quality of space distribution plays an important role in many of Ms Borg Cardona’s works. Spaces often create patterns or gaps which seemingly need to be bridged, at least in real life if not in the painting. Space also creates tension and dictates the nature of certain relationships in awkward albeit overt ways.

Gallery G is a very imposing space in which to exhibit, almost on a par with St James Cavalier. I have often gone to view an exhibition there and been more engrossed in the architecture and the general surroundings rather than the paintings or sculptures on display. However, this is not the case with Ms Borg Cardona’s works which have immediate impact and command the whole of the viewers’ attention. This is not only due to the sheer size and magnitude of some of the works, but also to their subject matter, context, chromatic intensity and a particularly sharp angled perspective.

The latter is perhaps the element which sets these works apart from those presented in her previous solo exhibition, Streetlife. Although many of the elements of the People Watching paintings were evident in the past exhibition - including subject matter - an added sketchy freshness and unfinished quality coupled with the aforementioned sharp and often awkward angles largely characterise these works.

In fact, I think it is fairly safe to say that Ms Borg Cardona utilises photographs as points of departure on which her paintings are then based. That, or else she possesses a true photographer’s eye.

So much so, that on some occasions, paintings seem to be a continuation of one another and the final result is simply another frame in the series. Aerial, rear and bird’s eye views are favoured, which are in turn coupled with a mixture of long-shots or close-ups.

She has a definite penchant for crowds – the closely knit groups as well as those which are scattering or dispersing. Only one work ‘As you go by’ has a ‘lack’ of people. This does not mean to say that the street portrayed is uninhabited or totally devoid of the human element, but that it seems the only instance in which people are not the main stars of the show – where people are dwarfed in their surroundings and do not have that commanding presence as in the other works.

Her surroundings and chosen contexts are varied and multifarious – the social scenes range from theatre, to village feasts, to passengers on the Gozo-ferry or even to members of a congregation. The surroundings however, take a backseat in the overall work, where the focus and pivotal force of the painting is the human figure. Whether captured in motion, expectant of action or caught in a hand-shake, there is no doubt that these figures are portrayed from reality, and from their natural habitat, not conjured up in some whimsical artist’s fantasy. They are snapshots from everyday life, and in looking out of this window we are looking into the artist’s world.

Through her work, it is as though she is questioning those people who live their lives through others, or at least those who necessitate an external approval in order to proceed in their course of action.

Ms Borg Cardona does not necessitate the approval of anyone however. Her statement is simple and crystal clear, it is not guised beneath some foreign veneer, nor is it enveloped in a sea of alienation. She is simply a painter of people

      When it comes to visual artist Austin Camilleri nothing can ever be taken at face value.

      In 1999, his transportable site(s) specific work which can also be classified under the land art genre, was dubbed, “a stone is a stone is a stone” (Stones exhibition catalogue, 1999). And now, a painting has become a painting painting, or its Maltese and French equivalent pittura pittura / peinture peinture. The latter is in fact the chosen title of his recent solo show currently underway at Galerie GNG in Paris.

   His need to emphasize his return to the painting genre has been manifest since 2006 after an absence of some 10 years. Yet, the time which elapsed in between, Camilleri’s name became somewhat synonymous with babies whose expression is permanently captured in a silent scream, as well as a string of complex and often elaborate conceptual works and installations through which he has distinguished himself as one of Malta’s foremost contemporary artists. 

   Therefore, this is not the first occasion in which Camilleri is showing a new corpus of works. In fact, just last month, Camilleri presented five works in the collective exhibition entitled Scent which was held at St John’s Cavalier, housing the Embassy of the Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of St John of Jerusalem. Some of the Parisian works were already presented in this show whilst a larger collection was featured even prior to this when Camilleri’s new vein of paintings graced the walls of The Sinclair Stevenson Gallery in Għarb, Gozo during the 2006 Open Late exhibiton.

   The time that has elapsed between Camilleri presenting one collection of paintings and the next might be the reason why he felt the need to emphasize his return to painting through the use of repetition in his latest exhibition title – Peinture Peinture - lest viewers or spectators should feel confused by the renewed association of his name.

   When reviewing the Scent exhibition I had commented that Camilleri was reutilising older works as ‘ground’ on which to build his new oeuvre. However, he has taken this a step further by painting on, and reutilising works which he had commissioned other artists to make.

   With this series of paintings Camilleri therefore wants to emphasise the idea of corrupted history – a new pictorial pseudo philosophy which is intended towards the subjectivity and the impurity of the unravelling story of the past written in textbooks or brought down generations through oral traditions.

   The imperfection of history is translated into Camilleri’s paintings whereby small snippets and segments of older works which constitute mere underlayers of the new paintings, are purposely revealed in the surface of the reworked piece. In the artist’s words, he is contaminating the past.

    This notion of exposing small windows for viewers to see previous, past works - whether those made by Camilleri himself, or even those by another artist - accentuates and heightens the manipulative ways of society. Here, Camilleri might be hinting at the artist-rivalry or even the ‘plagiarism’ and uncanny similarity of artworks which often sprouts in a small country like Malta or Gozo.

   The quest to retain originality coupled with gaining the approval from the art community is a harsh and tricky balance to strike; unfortunately I feel too many artists succumb to the claws of that which is ‘safe’ or commercial.

   The same can not be said of Camilleri’s work however, which is positively aggressive and charged with a fervent energy which ripples beneath the surface (or should I say surfaces?). Yet this strength is not always immediately noticeable, and many of his works require that the viewer becomes fully engaged in their entirety; his paintings necessitate a thorough inspection, from corner to corner, side to side. Once up-close and personal, the paintings reveal a multitude of detail which from a metre or so away could have appeared inexistent. Details comes in subtle doses such as scratch marks, often revealing words and phrases which could then be repeated several times within the same work. Camilleri also makes use of typography in many recent works, through which he submits his non-subliminal random and messages.

   In these paintings, there is very little trace of the Austin Camilleri who produced the intricate and chiefly abstract works dating to the 1990s. At times there is similarity in the overall choice of palette and the general ‘spirit’ of the work, other than that however there is nothing to remind us of his old ‘style’.

   Colour, tones and quasi decipherable forms are some of the recurring elements in this body of work, which often contains force and sheer contrast of chromatic intensity especially when Camilleri uses a particularly vibrant  red pigment, very unique to his recent work, coupled with the luminosity of pure, almost blinding white. Other elements include the stylized eight-pointed cross, the weightless yet monolithic-like mandorla shapes, and others reminiscent of severed limbs or pulsating organs.

   In most of these paintings, shapes, contours and ‘outlines’ are almost rendered in cut-out form or silhouette; simultaneously however, these sectioned-off areas possess few of the harsh qualities of a silhouette. Rather, these forms are enshrined within a sea of paint and contrast is only created through the elimination or application of pigment upon chosen portions of his surface, therefore revealing the work’s previous skins and layers.

   After viewing this series of works, there is no doubt that Austin Camilleri is a painter – actually, he is a painter painter.  His strong, fine painterly technique shines through the myriad of qualities and elements which he chooses to impart upon his works, with a random precision yet sheer gusto for art.

Published in The Sunday Times of Malta, December 7, 2008.

Girl… not woman, not female, but girl

This word suggests the period of transition between childhood and puberty; that crucial period of change leading to the complete metamorphosis of the body into one replete with physicality, sexuality and ultimately, fertility. 

Girl is the protagonist of this series of ‘interviews’

Interviews generally denote formal meetings; exchanges of information between consenting (or non consenting) persons, through elicitation or the capabilities of direction (linguistic or artistic) of a ‘master of ceremonies’.

Girl comes in different shapes, sizes.

Sultry and seductive; carefree and bohemian; poised and dignified; exotic and mysterious: mere sets of adjectives… possessing distinct and diverse nuances of lure and fascination.

Girl in monochrome versus girl in colour

Bright 80s flavoured posterised images, combining popular culture with textured surfaces akin to a digital silk-screen juxtaposing a collage of rich and intricate detail. Colour is contrasted by carefully orchestrated ‘exercises’ of artistic direction evidenced by plays of light, shadow and a multitude of tones and in between gradations.

Girl under scrutiny = girl laid bare

These are complementary couplings of contemporary elements in urban environments, sparse landscapes or abstracted backdrops. Placed in a variety of surroundings and settings, she takes on an air, an attitude, she becomes part of the framework, of the structure, of nature. She becomes one of us.

Girl… not woman, not female, but girl*

*Foreword to the Girl; interviewed exhibition catalogue by Kenneth Borg and Paul Mizzi. The exhibition runs till November 21 at The Malta Maritime Museum in Vittoriosa.