Exhibition  February 2007

Copyright  © 2004 Pollock Gallery

Andrew Sibley

“New & Recent Paintings”

 

 

 

 

 

A selection of the paintings follows:

 

Click on an image for a larger view… for any information call or e-mail us


Rosie Waiting

Oil on Linen

100 x 85 cm

 

 

Rosie in Love

Oil on linen

100 x 85 cm

 

 

First Meeting

Oil on linen

51 x 40 cm

 

 

He Leadeth Me

Oil on linen

51 x 40 cm

 

 

Distractions

Oil on linen

122 x 132 cm

 

 

Mrs In Between

Oil on linen

122 x 132 cm

 

 

The Medieval Art of Love

Oil on linen

122 x 132 cm

 

 

Come into the Garden

Oil on linen

100 x 91 cm

 

 

 

Who Needs Classicism?

Oil on Linen

132 x 120 cm

 

 

 

A Window to the Artist’s Retreat

Oil on linen

92 x 100 cm

 

 

Believe Me I’m Earthed

Oil on linen

67 x 61 cm

 

 

Tree Portrait 1 - Ginko

Oil on linen

100 x 85 cm

 

 

Tree Portrait 2 - Conifer

Oil on linen

100 x 85 cm

 

 

Tree Portrait 3

Oil on linen

100 x 85 cm

 

 

Tree Portrait 4 - Poplar

Oil on linen

100 x 85 cm

 

 

Primal Carpet

Oil on linen

92 x 100 cm

 

 

Earthed Lovers

Oil on linen

178 x 107 cm

 

 

First Dance

Oil on linen

132 x 122 cm

 

 

Awkward Andrew

Oil on linen

122 x 132 cm

 

 

Lustscape

Oil on linen

132 x 122 cm

 

 

Light of the Outback

Oil on linen

178 x 107 cm

 

 

I’ll Bring You a Daisy A Day

Oil on linen

100 x 91 cm

 

 

Red Meets Blue

Ink on Paper

44 x 30 cm

 

 

Midnight Love

Ink on Paper

44 x 30 cm

 

 

He Really Loves Me

Ink on Paper

44 x 30 cm

 

 

 

 

Andrew Sibley.

 

A Review by Kate Adams.  February 2007.

 

One need not refer to his illustrious biography to comprehend the creative calibre and competence of Andrew Sibley. Rather, the energy and confidence of his most recent paintings reflect an artist who has, over the course of his career, refined his art to only the most articulate, potent compositions necessary to communicate his ongoing concern with the human condition.

 

Sibley’s slick application and bold separation of colour, combined with his precise and economic use of line, culminate in uncompromising images of contemporary life. He paints with courageous simplicity. A disturbing eeriness emanates with the precision of his final compositions. Figures collapse and become trapped in a world of two-dimensional visual ‘perfection’.

However, if one mistakes Sibley’s simplification of images as decorative or shallow, they must be quick to correct themselves by revisiting Sibley’s subjects and carefully analyzing the disjunctions in their apparently cliché gestures. Lovers’ gazing at each other with eyes that never quite meet; bodies that slide over each other rather than embrace; Sibley uses these subtle inconsistencies to communicate the ambiguities of human relationships and behaviour, to expose the disturbing reality of anything that operates as a surface appearance.

At closer observation, we realise that the true reality of Sibley’s scenes are in-fact playfully contradictory with our initial interpretation of them. A fine example of this is ‘He Leadeth Me’. As the title suggests, this picture presents a situation of a man leading a woman into a bedroom. However, upon analyzing her ambiguous gaze and mischievous smile, we begin to doubt our initial assumptions. At a closer glance, is it not the woman who has devised this plan, knowing all-too-well (perhaps from experience?) the tempting rewards that follow a night of flirtation? Like many of his works, Sibley invites viewers to examine the actions and uncover the motivation behind human behaviour, encouraging us to take an active role in interpreting his art.

 

Sibley’s ongoing theme of the disparity between surface appearance and deeper meaning continues to penetrate his recent works. We must approach Sibley’s outwardly clichéd symbolism and sentimentality with a retained scepticism, for, more often than not, these features are clever façades disguising hidden truths. As we penetrate beneath the brilliant colours, apathetic stares and vague gestures, we begin to notice a tension between psychological and physical space. Sibley’s characters seem to stare beyond their immediate surroundings and out of the canvas, expressing an awareness of a world beyond the physical. In this way, Sibley introduces a psychological depth to an otherwise ‘flat’ image.

 

Sibley’s human subjects often appear to emerge on their own account, arising from shapes and features of the landscape. It is Sibley’s role to pluck them from the background and into existence. We see this in ‘Rosie In Love’, whereby the two figures are comprised from the rose-patterned backdrop, before their forms are articulated and solidified by Sibley’s iconic linear contours. This technique allows his subjects to appear simultaneously imbedded and disconnected from their environment.

However, in one of the most remarkable images of this show, ‘Rosie Waiting’, Sibley uncharacteristically abandons his use of line. Instead, he allows texture and colour to give rise to his subject, resulting in a refreshingly delicate image of innocent longing.

 

Sibley’s highly individual, unorthodox aesthetic is not reserved for his human subjects alone. In his Tree Portrait series, Sibley offers a unique vision of the Australian landscape. Privileging almost every shade of green imaginable, these trees thrive with fertility. Luminous lime green and deep olive hues reverberate side-by-side on the canvas, the contrast of light and dark producing a pulsating glow. Each tree takes on a charmingly unique personality. ‘Australian’ in an exceptionally surreal way, Sibley’s Tree Portraits accomplish the most important task of portraiture: to depict the spirit of the subject, not physical likeness.

 

In continuation with his past works, a powerful juxtaposition between visual immobility and liberation, between psychological isolation and social interaction, lies at the heart of the majority of Sibley’s latest works. However his recent investigations, although still darkly humourous, are notably less intense than those works produced prior to 2000. Of past works, it could be said that Sibley engendered a strong satirical criticism of, what in Jungian terms could be described as, “A civilized consciousness [that had] steadily separated itself from the basic instincts [and was] forced to assert [it]self in an indirect fashion”.[i] Presently, Sibley’s satire takes on a less bitter form. The ‘unfinished business’ explored in his earlier autobiographical works seems to have been resolved, clearing room for Sibley and his painted “family” (as Ronald Millar referred to them) to rejoice in the world and all it’s imperfections. And whilst his re-occurring characters retain certain childish or animalistic qualities, they also demonstrate a composed maturity. No longer caught up in the emotional chaos of their situation, they exhibit a cool indifference to their environment, a somewhat existential (particularly Heidiggerian) acceptance of their place in their world. Sibley once explained that “the true escape is to learn to live within the environment we find ourselves in, by coming to an understanding with our own nature and the nature and conditions of all humanity”.[ii] The figures in ‘Who Needs Classicism?’ exemplify this realization. Content with their flaws and differences, these characters suggest that idealism is an undesirable, obsolete aspiration in today’s world.

 

Alan McCulloch’s observation of “the sheer youthful exuberance of Sibley’s work”[iii] still holds true today. Operating between the realms of theatricality and reality, Sibley’s latest works are infused with a redeemed optimism, but do not abandon their task of questioning the complex disposition of the human condition.

Beauty and awkwardness, complacency and anxiety and all other contradictions of human nature are arrested in these satisfyingly fluent images of contemporary life.

 

[1]  Carl G. Jung, Man and His Symbols, Aldus/Allen, London 1964, p. 83

[1] Andrew Sibley quoted in Andrew Sibley: An Epic of the Everyman, David Thomas and Ken McGregor, 2004, p. 31

[1] Alan McCulloch, ‘Brilliance can be tricky’, Herald, Melbourne, 11 April 1962