I I I

s p a i n


>>>>>>

The Place I first travelled to Spain in 1996 to participate in a studio arrangement owned and operated by an artist from Britain. With a suitcase filled with canvas, and little else, I boarded a bus to follow a narrow, twisting road high into the mountains where Spain's pueblo blancos (white villages) glare surrealistically under the sun. Located in the southern region known as Andalucia, about 1.5 hours northeast of Malaga, my destination was a village of 4,000 people, a lively community set within a fertile area known primarily for its olive oil and wine. Goat paths wind from village to village, lined with various cacti and a profusion of flowers, while the surrounding hillsides are also rich in the production of almonds, carob, oranges, lemons and avocados. With the Mediterranean clearly visible in the distance - the village is only one half hour from the coast - on a clear day one can see Africa. For a Canadian escaping the doldrums of February, the village - its location, its white buildings and circuitous, narrow streets, its people who were warm, genuine and patient with foreigners - seemed almost heartbreakingly beautiful. Indeed, one might describe it as kitsch, and it would have been were it at all contrived. But it was, simply, what it was. For three years, until it closed its doors in 1999, I stayed at Fuente Studios, an old house near the village centre which accommodated up to four artists at a time for periods of two to four months. Here, I had the privilege of meeting and working alongside artists from various countries, most notably England and Denmark but also Tasmania, the US and Japan. Since the closing of the studios I have continued to return to the village where there is a small population of foreign artists residing permanently and several others, who as I, return for a few months each year to work intensely. Inspiration What it is about Spain that inspires is not easy to define. Were I a landscape painter, the explanation would be easy enough as I would then be responding directly to a singular element of the country - a specific region, a particular place, a moment in which that place is observed - and, however abstract the approach, the result would be a form of documentation. Were I a figurative painter of another sort, intent on capturing, realistically or otherwise, the image of life as it exists, then, being in a particular place at a particular time has an obvious purpose, as well. The way I am inspired by Spain, however, is less concrete. Rather than responding directly to my environment, I was able to gain a sense of the culture through interaction and internalization. Spain, as I've experienced it, is not one thing or another - it is a paradox, a place of dichotomies, a place wherein contradictions coexist comfortably, where passions run high in seemingly opposite directions without fear of contention. The Spaniards' devotion to religion and family do not conflict with their lust for life; rather, food, wine, dance and festivities are inextricably interwoven into celebrations of the church. Spain is a place where apparent opposites merge symbiotically, where despite the diverse elements which cohabit their culture, an almost effortless balance reigns. This balance is its secret. It is what accounts for the cultural health of its people - something which, with the steady influx of foreigners, may one day become a thing of the past. The work which transpired from my periods in Spain explored this balance and the merging of contradictions. The Laughing Angel series, (see: Themes, Angels) depicts women who are conscious of their sexuality, yet, who wear the wings of angles. Another theme explored the idea of the Madonna, as the pregnant virgin, as whore, simultaneously saintly and provocatively sexual. The concepts of guilt and innocence inspired, and continue to inspire various works such as Confessions (see: Past Exhibitions, Juten Gallery) and The Confession (see: Past Exhibitions, Amsterdam), works in which the sinner is indistinguishable and undetermined. In Antipodes (see: Themes, Birthday Portraits) I depict myself as the nun, the whore and the person in between, as a range of cohabiting contradictions while in Penultima (see: Themes, Queens, etc.) the subject, a pope, contains his anomalies in a disguise of impermeable grace. If there is a common thread throughout all the Spanish works it is one as equally entangled in my appreciation of the Spanish culture as my susceptibility to it. When an artist is drawn to whatever subject - be it a landscape, a culture, a series of ideas - it is because he or she shares, on some level, an affinity with that subject. Even in cases where the subject is repulsive to the artist, if that artist is driven to react and thus explore that subject further, it is due to an existent connection between the two. My connection with Spain is, on one level, a similarity of perspective while on another, it is the need to investigate what one does not comprehend, not for the sake of an ultimate "answer" but to unearth still more questions.