Moon - les lunes du systeme solaire
Combining art with science (continued)
Just as I blurr the division between art and science when creating my work,
the viewer also breaks down this boundary when interpreting my work. Just
as an astronomer infers the structure of a moon based on images of the moon's
surface (most of our knowledge of other moons is based on images beamed back
from the Voyager and Galileo probes), the viewer interprets the meaning of
my paintings through interpretation of its texture. I use many different techniques
to express the textures of each individual moon - the cracked ice-floes of
Europa (Europa~Seed),
the cantaloupe-like terrain of Triton (Triton~Seed),
the heavily cratered surface of Callisto (Life
on Callisto). The surface structures contain the clues of the moon's
interior structure. For example, the observation of Io's changing surface
lead to the realization that there are active volcanoes on Io, and that the
moon is geologically active. I carry the modification of the surface further
by cutting holes into the canvas and allowing the viewer a view into the interior
of the canvas - and the moon. This modification of "foreground"
and "background" allows me to question the 2-dimensionality the
canvas, reinterpreting the stretched canvas as a 3-dimensional object along
the lines of Lucio Fontana.
Besides the use surface, the circle serves as a tool to interpret my work. It is a central motif in most works, especially the piece "Syntax of Evolution". It links the worlds of the microcosm and the macrocosm: the circle is the basic shape of the very small (atoms) as well as the very large (moons, stars, orbits). The circle transcends the realms of physics (moons), biology (cells) and culture (writing, the rosary). This repetition of form serves to demonstrate the basic link between all that is alive, wherever and whatever it may be. While complex structures may appear to vary a great deal, when pared down to their basic components everything is interlinked and interdependent.
While these conclusions appear to be somewhat esoteric, I am mindful that my work must also be understood by more than a small number of hobby astronomers. It is important for me that the "average person" has an access to my art. In my view, works of art can be understood on three hierarchical levels. The first level is instinctive and based purely on the aesthetic: it is the appreciation of form, colour and composition. The thoughts of the viewer are along the lines: "I like these colours", "There is an interesting tension between the shapes", and "This texture is intriguing". The second level is the "direct" meaning. The viewer compares what they see with what they already know. It is a semantic superimposition of shapes. The viewer asks himself: "What does this shape resemble?", "What does this colour mean?". The third level is that of "inferred" meaning, and of interpretation. Based on what the viewer discerned to be the direct meaning, he now puts into context and comes to his own conclusions. The central question then becomes: "What is this painting about?". It is important to me that viewers can appreciate my work solely on the first level, or on just the first and second level and still value it as a work of art. I also like to make room for alternate interpretations, which is why I like to suggest and juxtapose rather that accurately, obviously depict. It leaves an access to everyone rather than excluding those who come up with the "wrong" meaning.
The physical access to art is also important to me. The reason for my open studio is based in the belief that the public should have access to the artist as well as the art. I like to encourage dialogue with visitors to my studio. This allows viewers of my work to discuss the inferred meaning of my work, listen to my interpretation and background of each piece, and allow observation of my process. Viewers then achieve a sense of ownership of the work and the art process.
