Critical Text On Artists
ANTHONY J. PARKÉ
Jessica Rimondi Text by Anthony J. Parké Looking at the work of Jessica Rimondi one is immediately confronted by an intense visceral encounter. These paintings are designed to extract a certain emotional or psychological response from the viewer. There is little bystanding to be done. They demand the viewer be involved. There is a sense of an obliteration of the portrait, and with that a certain sense of violence in the air. There is something taking place in a temporal sense. A nowness imbued in them, an unfolding of an event. Almost certainly, a psychological event. The fragmentations of the features leave one feeling uneasy. Art can be many things, and a sense of dis-ease is a very viable form of expression to elicit from a viewer. There is an unavoidable deathness within the canvas. The muted background palette renders not only something akin to the classical grisaille underpainting, but also of the prostate cadaver. But unlike the incomplete grisaille, these are very much complete and assured works. They are robust paintings that stand up for themselves. They have a provocative strength about them. I think of the oft-told tale of William Burroughs performing the William Tell act on his wife. A bottle on her head for him to shoot with his rifle. Except that he misses and shoots her in the head. There is something of the ‘explosion’, here, to; an explosion designed to elicit a psychological reading. How would one expect a painter to create these paintings? Slow and genteel? Or vigorous and explosive? Possibly even attacked? The textural rendering gives the clues. They were created with emotion, and naturally elicit a primal response as a result. These paintings are created with an assured hand. They are bold and potent. Completely decontextualised from any recognizable environment, they make their own worlds which is made all the more intense by the absence of ours. For there is nowhere for the viewer to escape, no cupboards, tables, gardens, skies, or swimming pools. You can turn away, or connect. These paintings have an inescapable ‘attraction’. Why? Because we are witnessing real people. Fragmented yes, but all the more real for the fragmentation. Why? Because the fragmentation reveals a truer picture of our human nature than the mere approximation/ inclusion of features. Less is more. An abstract rendering creates a complex psychological focus. Who are these sitters? If there is a psychological struggle, what is it? Note, the psychological condition under scrutiny is not a localised one. It is a universal one. These reflect the psychological encounters which effect us all. They are not calm or still. Every mark, slash, scrape tells its own psychological tale. They appear bloodied, bruised, and battered. But that is the surface reading only. These surface physicality’s are merely the portals into which we discuss there humanity. To stand before one of these paintings is to stand before the very existential nature of our lives. Who are, and how do we exist in this world, is the question these paintings evoke.
Title: Art Fucks Me
Kimi Kurahara Text by Anthony J. Parké Japanese artist, Kimi Kurahara is one of those artists whose paintings work on a peculiarly subtle level. They have the quality of fictional characters, as though extracted from a world of Mad Hatters and March Hares. The surface appearance is innocent and beguiling, befitting perhaps, given the subject matter, which is ostensibly that of young children, of which most are predominantly girls. These paintings are unusual in that they make the subtlest of transitions between the oversized eyes of Anime, and the western illustrative characters found in children’s books. They are essentially doll like in their features. So it comes as no surprise to learn that a childhood Kimi was an avid fan of dolls. For many, the nostalgia for dolls often leads to collecting in later life, but for Kimi it’s a case of creative participation, rather than passive collecting. She is the creator of her own worlds, and we the witness to it. In a sense, Kimi is bringing about the reanimation of her childhood love of dolls; resurrecting them with their own accompanying paraphernalia and history. Why create a world with doll-like figures? Perhaps her characters are designed to soothe a psychological need, or, to speculate further, fill an emotional void (as at times do real dolls). After all, dolls are representations of people. So Kimi creates a beautifully controlled world in which to explore. Innocuous at first glance, but on further inspection, the neutrally expressive, staring characters have the unusual capacity to disarm. They are designed to transfix. As the artist herself acknowledges, she is working around a facsimile of dolls that she grew up with. Dolls can be peculiarly disturbing objects given the right context; and that is expressed subtly here. These are curious lives, opening themselves up to a viewer’s imagination. We are left to create our own narrative around these children. They appear to want to connect. In fact, with their hypnotic gaze, they demand our attention. Kimi Kurahars’s paintings are a two-dimensional continuation of Japan’s great history of Karakuri doll making, dating back to the 19th century. Though she offers a more contemporaneous version, with the added ability to transfix and mesmerize in worlds peculiarly unique to her. Anthony J. Parke’
Title: Territory of Girls