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There is something else going on between
her and me. Cindy Sherman 1
'This room is going to be very lonely when they go', Viky
Garden, portrait artist reflects. Itıs an insufferable thought at this
stage of the creative process. The characters of her paintings are the
most exquisite creatures and to the artist obviously pose possibilities
and clues to her own identity. Yet they mysteriously occupy a non-comfort
zone between self-portrait and fictionalised subject.
To attempt to elucidate the complex expressions they wear,
I suggest 'reserved, haughty, aloof'. But there is a transparency to this
armour and I soon realise I am being implored by ten sets of eyes so
locked into fragility and timorous spirituality that I find myself both
hostage and potential liberator.
Behind each subject the backgrounds are flat and lack clue
to setting either temporal or spatial. The facial plains are based on
contour drawings. They are moulded with paint from the contours of the
weary heart within and shaped into the face and shoulders without. They
are simultaneously naked and adorned. Each wears a signature head-dress.
One a red turban. Another a fur muff with dangling baubles. A swimming
cap. Wedding veil. A harlequin's cloche. The millinery is voguish and
graphic. It acts as the snag that pulls one into these hauntingly
arresting paintings. They have a certain uncomfortableness very different
from the effortless pose of a glamour shot. These are holocaust faces
enduring a quiet desperation. The whimsical head attire attests to the
fluke of fate which survival is.
Both of the artist's parents came to New Zealand as
refugees of the Second World War. Her mother from Poland and her father
from Greece. Her mother recalls incredible hunger on a crowded train trip
(which Viky's grandmother did not survive) that took her via Persia and
Siberia before she boarded a ship for New Zealand.
The elaborate head-dress of the subjects in A Thin
Disguise is a claim to a heritage that has been a long time erased.
The paintings are fictions based on the 'if' of imagination. They emerge
from that uneasy freedom where an absence of detail consents to a
contrivance of identity. Yet there is a lived and experienced knowledge
behind these constructs. It's not a front, a red herring, or a distraction
but the external attire of an inherited and thereby innate sense of style.
For some, no matter how ugly the world gets, the act of knowing what
beauty is, of how it is achieved, serves as a coping mechanism.
Garden works in a directorial mode. That is she conceives,
models, costumes, performs and paints the work. She is artist as poseur.
And in the relationship that evolves between the artist and the subject a
huge tension is built. She is presenting herself in early Renaissance
Grand Master composure so that the subjects prefigure an eminence and
stature. Yet the expression of doubt and vulnerability signifies an
imposter in this role. The void that acts as background is designed to
activate a sense of loss. The resulting paradox suggests there is a direct
circuit between the heights of artifice and the depths of lived reality.
It's on this shifting ground that New York artist Cindy
Sherman's work also operates. In the referencing between self and
construct there is something inexplicit being played out. 'A game of doing
and being, attracting and rejecting, making oneself beautiful and making
oneself ugly, seducing and retreating into oneself' 2.
The drama is palpable in that it is all locked up within the image.
What isn't secured in this process is the real identity of
the artist. To present so many variations of self only confounds. The
artist becomes actor and evader, promising that the real artist lies in
proximity to all of the images and yet never fully realised in a single
fiction.
Critics have ruminated over Cindy Sherman's earlier Film
Still series asking the same question. Those works are concerned only
with artifice and the spectator there is cautioned that 'the surface is
everything'. 'To go beyond that is to risk all' 3.
In Viky Garden's work to speculate is to be the object of the gaze.
Through the act of looking you enter a fragile territory of seduction and
evasion. The disguise has succeeded in luring the spectator into its
labyrinth and thrown the key, to the real identity of the artist, out of
reach.
Further armoured by a self-possession that takes on an
almost perverse stance, the women in these paintings enact a pride and
dignity that the dispossessed covet. They conceal the fact that they
gamble with the appearance of not gambling. They observe and seemingly
desire nothing from the object of their gaze. Except that is for Edith's
Turban where a small hint of longing for something beyond has crept into
her face. It's the first glimpse of a confidence that the world is
becoming a place to be renegotiated. The healing is almost complete. The
disguise has served its purpose and more.
1. Els Barents. Introduction to Cindy
Sherman, Schirmer/Mosel of Munich for the Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam
1982, p.12.
2. ibid., p. 9.
3. ibid., p. 10. |