From Peter Callesen’s paper cut-outs to Jen Stark’s paper sculptures to Christo wrapping the Reichstag,we can see that even the simplest of childhood artistic endeavours becomes eye-opening and mind-expanding in the hands of an artist. Although it would be easy to dismiss paper folding as merely decoration,I am constantly reminded by the artists I meet through our little gallery that every human creation has meaning. Every medium,every colour and texture,sound and pitch,becomes a palette for the expression of our desires and intentions. Art is the thought made real,whether it’s paint or coloured paper,stone,wood or bottle tops. The art exists,flawless,in the artist’s mind;the skill lies in bringing it out into the world. Or maybe it would be truer to say that the skill lies in crafting a window for us to see another world.
If that’s true,the walls of our our gallery display windows to many worlds. On the one hand there’s the crisp certainty of Sam Hicks’photographs,images that can make me feel the warmth of a summer afternoon or the icy dew of morning on a hillside. Right next to those we have Myfanwy Davies’Tumbarumba Memory,a painting that evokes an overwhelming sense of place with only the broadest of brush strokes.The contrast between the artists’techniques is dramatic,but they seem to succeed equally well at communicating to the audience. Just after we hung Davies’painting I saw a woman take a step back in surprise,saying “I know that place!”
I think the artist invested Tumbarumba with something more than just paint. She has captured the memory of the place,created a window to a moment in time and space. Far from being a mere map reference,it has become a world that she shares with us,a place with special meaning.
Joanna Bacher is another of our gallery artists who creates paintings rich in meaning. We have five or six of her works,all of which inspire discussion. Opinions vary about what each image means,and it’s always interesting to hear people’s perceptions. So when Jo delivered a new piece for our gallery wall on Good Friday and offered to explain it to me,you might think I’d have jumped at the chance to hear the ‘real’story direct from the artist. But no,I realised that I didn’t want the artist to tell me exactly what her painting meant because that would take me out of the equation. My enjoyment would be muted because all the potentials of the image would be narrowed down to one,I would have no inner dialogue to engage with.
Having come to that awareness,I think maybe we’re all artists. Every time we look at an image and interpret it we are creating something new.
And in that case the meaning of art is …whatever we want it to be!