21.9.06

grey areas


diorama thing, originally uploaded by me-jade.


Often I’m asked about the limited colour I use in my work. I have many explanations for why it interests me, I am unsure if any are really true, maybe it is just personal taste.
But then I do like many artworks that use strong colour, I just don’t like to use it myself. I tend not to wear it, but I much prefer to wear it than to use it…..

Anyways here are some thoughts and theories;

I often work in a way that is detailed, even elaborate. Lack of colour is a counterpoint to this, it makes things simpler.

It looks like the work has been subjected to the natural processes of aging and decay, yet it is a selected and contrived appearance. I love a bit of paradox.

Lots of stuff I make is vaguely festive in form…….it is much more interesting to have the counterpoint of sombre colouring, otherwise it might be a bit, well, yuck, if you know what I mean….just too nice and pretty and that’s not what I’m interested in.

I enjoy tricking people. It’s true! I like the way that from a distance my artworks can look like some old relic, an outmoded device or aged ephemera, but on closer inspection it is clear that they are products of the present. Often my work uses recycled materials, so something old becomes new…..but is made to look even older. Tricky, huh? Or maybe just baffling…


I see my work as exploring the meaning of the phrases ‘shades of grey,’ and 'grey areas' etc. Ambiguity interests me.

Part 2 coming soon!

1 comment:

google said...

What a bonanza! For the last week I've been checking your blog frequently and it seemed stuck on the "unfinished" entry. Now all of a sudden I find a bunch of wonderful stuff to read. There must be something weird about blogger.

I love your thoughts about color/non-color. For me they all apply to your work. I would also add that there is a push-pull kind of thing. They look old, very fragile, about to fall apart, and yet I really wish I could pick them up and turn pages, work the parts, and experience them in my hand. Maybe it gives them a kind of preciousness. As in how important old things from our grandmother's attics are. A cracked bowl that was always on the table. Old books, handled and loved by many family members.