Ralph Anderson - Lucent Umbra Paintings by JGM Gallery

Ralph Anderson Lucent Umbra Paintings

JGM GALLERY

Published by JGM Gallery, on the occasion of the exhibition Ralph Anderson: Lucent Umbra Paintings June 8th - 15th July 2017 Publication designed by Tom Saunders Exhibition photography by Damian Griffiths Additional photography by Alice Wilson JGM Gallery 24 Howie Street London SW11 4AY info@jgmgallery.com ÂŠ 2017, JGM Gallery and the artist. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner without prior permission.

Ralph Anderson Lucent Umbra Paintings

JGM GALLERY

Contents 7 - Introduction by Jennifer Guerrini Maraldi 8 - ‘The Pragmatics of Anderson’ by Juan Bolivar 12 - Exhibited works 40 - Biography and CV

Introduction Jennifer Guerrini Maraldi Ralph Anderson’s exhibition, Lucent Umbra Paintings, is a particularly exciting event for us this June, marking the first major show of a contemporary British artist in the new JGM Gallery space. Indigenous Australian artworks will form a part of the gallery’s annual exhibition program, in parallel with some fascinating, and sometimes unseen contemporary artists from the United Kingdom, Europe, USA and more. Ralph Anderson’s Lucent Umbra Paintings are strong, positive and stimulating, with a definite “WOW” factor to thrill the viewer. This work presents a marvellous spectacular for our first show by a contemporary British artist at JGM Gallery. The exhibition holds an extra magic, as we have been following Ralph’s work and watching it evolve for over nine years during which time Ralph has been working closely with JGM ART. We are delighted to be exhibiting Ralph Anderson’s new work at JGM Gallery this summer. With thanks for your interest and continued support. Jennifer Guerrini Maraldi Director JGM Gallery

The Pragmatics of Anderson Juan Bolivar In linguistics, ‘pragmatics’ studies language from a social point of view. It involves the complexities of using language day-to-day beyond simple meaning, with devices such as ambiguity, intention and ‘sub-text’. It is the aspect of language which requires living with language to understand the idiosyncrasies associated with its use: things that may have meaning but no specific translation, and depend on context for their understanding. ‘Implicature’ is a technical term in pragmatics referring to what is suggested, even though this may be neither expressed nor implied by an utterance. The paintings of Ralph Anderson borrow from familiar expressive elements of ‘painting language’, such as the brushstroke, the mark and the paint-drip. He does this at great speed, like a ‘new wave’ musician sampling sections of music, synthesising a new tune, or in Anderson’s case, a painting. The result plays with the visual familiarity of our lexicon, and its diffusion into new meanings. Like in pragmatics, meaning is not simply translating what is being said, but rather recognising some of the conventions or signs associated within a field of language. In Anderson’s case, the signs and visual language of late 20th and early 21st Century painting; in particular gestural and geometric abstraction - their use and miss-use. In Roland Barthes’ essay ‘The Romans in Films’, (published in Mythologies, 1957), Barthes describes the way in which “Roman-ness” is produced in the films of Joseph Mankiewicz through a series of subtle signs. An example is found in Julius Caesar (1953) where Barthes describes the way in which a ‘Roman fringe’, is a signifier for qualities such as Roman ‘virtue’ and ‘conquest’, and Barthes suggests that the ‘coding’ that guides our reading of everyday life, is punctuated by small gestures such as the Roman fringe, and that it is these subtle gestures which constitute the signs and signals through which we communicate in Western society. Likewise, observational comedy – such as Seinfeld – deconstructs some of the pragmatic gestures, expressions and mannerisms typical of late 20th century metropolitan life. Storylines in this hit series became ‘water-cooler’ conversation topics, by the way in which New Yorkers knew exactly what was meant regardless of the obliqueness or fleetingness of the communication signs. In one episode George Costanza – a key protagonist of the series – is dating a girl that doesn’t complete stories but instead fills in blanks with “yada yada yada”. This expression became a cipher for many things and even the abbreviated ‘yada’ came to have a specific/non-specific meaning. Another trait of this TV series is the way in which elements in storylines were sometimes connected by degrees of separation. In this show about ‘nothing’, stories would often go full circle, or relate to disparate non sequiturs, through absurd or unexpected connections between its characters. In Anderson’s use of pragmatic visual signs, he often employs similar strategies such as the punctuation of concentrated signs found in Barthes’ ‘Roman fringe’ and the connectivity of storylines in Seinfeld, and his paintings are like an orchestra declaring these connections simultaneously. The paintings are an open system for this declaration, but also rejoice in the cacophony and ‘mega-mix’ of sources, making the experience a combination of familiarity and disconcertion. Take for example Anderson’s ‘The Dog of Flanders’, a five and a half metre wide triptych, executed in the style typical of the artist’s recent work, painted with acrylic on aluminium.

The work is based on Rubens’ ‘The Descent from the Cross’ (1612-1614), a monumental work depicting Christ’s taking down from the cross. Rubens’ painting is the central panel of a larger triptych comprising ‘The Visitation’, and ‘The Presentation of Jesus at the Temple’, and is a biblical scene which has been used by artists from Fra Angelico to Caravaggio. In Rubens’ version, the figures in this central panel are arranged in a way that they appear connected by slight gestures of hands and by the characters unspoken gazes. The movement flows from the top right to the bottom left of the painting, and round again, resembling a constellation of stars. The painting is both an image and a spectacle of signs that animate this scene and bring it to life. Anderson, in turn, while using Rubens as a starting point, takes the eclectic residue of other more recent painting imagery and language from 20th Century abstraction such as Cy Twombly’s ‘Chalkboard Paintings’, and uses these as components with which to re-enact Rubens’ painting and bring it to life. He cuts away at the aluminium, discarding the support of his work to both reveal and conceal the visual languages employed; making the remaining aluminium skeleton the overt linguistic utterance in his work, but also the suggestion of that which is implied by the omission of other discarded information. Rather than titling the resulting painting ‘The Descent from the Cross’ after Rubens, Anderson’s title ‘A Dog of Flanders’ derives from a Victorian children’s story by Ouida (the pseudonym opted by English novelist Maria Louise Ramé). The story relates the tale of Flemish boy named Nello and his dog, Patrasche. The story is set in Antwerp and has a melancholic tone as the boy and his dog attempt to witness Rubens’ painting, ‘The Descent from the Cross’ (which can be seen in ‘The Cathedral of Our Lady’ in Antwerp). The connection and disconnection of elements – much like in an episode of Seinfeld – take us on a journey to further explore Anderson’s work. Other of his paintings are titled with oblique expressions which operate much like the blanks in a sentence filled in by ‘yada yada yada’; with information compressed with a specific/non-specific meaning; a pragmatic essence. The contradictions inherent in our familiarity with visual language form the argument in Anderson’s paintings. The intricate array of marks, frozen brushstrokes, grids and zig-zags suspended on the frontal picture plane of his work are specific, yet simultaneously generic ‘gestures’ and ‘expressions’ of painting visual language. Colour glows on the wall from behind the painting like an afterthought - a suggestion that there is more that cannot be contained, or maybe the vibration of music coming from a neighbour’s party - and a collision occurs between the abundance of information on the frontal picture plane, and the chromatic-shadow these paintings emanate. Like a traveller abroad, the overabundance of visual sources and ciphers of this frontal picture plane, is set against a backdrop of strangeness and the unknown of a new place. Imagine you are in car, a movie chase, or maybe a gentle drive in a new city - somewhere colourful like Miami or LA. Yours is the car being chased or maybe you are just sitting in the passenger’s seat with the windows rolled down. The air is warm and the light is the beautiful dusk magic hour which the director Brian De Palma captures so well. There are street signs, lights, people walking by and new smells and sounds. It’s almost too much to take in, and you don’t know where to begin. The car swirls through traffic speeding past the view. Some of it is recognisable – like in the movies – but most of is in new. What matters is the excitement, the twists and turns and the mixture of confusion, memory and experience that this acceleration brings. Juan Bolivar, May 2017 Juan Bolivar is an artist and curator based in London 9

The Dog of Flanders 240 x 550 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2017 12

The Dog of Flanders (details)

Picture This 125 x 95 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2017

The One With the Waggly Tail 125 x 95 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2017

Looking at the World from a Human Point of View 60 x 80 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2017

Drive Time 60 x 90 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2017

The Full Whack 170 x 125 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2017

Spatial Station 80 x 60 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2017

Supernatant Relief 250 x 170 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2016 24

Fulgent Relief 100 x 80 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2016

Night Vision 80 x 60 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2017

Gesture and Narrative 40 x 30 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2017

Spatial Station - The Beginning 30 x 25 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2017

Lucid Relief 60 x 40 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2016

Ulterior Relief 60 x 40 cm Acrylic on aluminium 2016

Maybe I Meant Reality (Nuclear Deterrent II) 90 x 60 cm Acrylic on birch plywood 2016

Maybe I Meant Reality (Nuclear Deterrent III) 90 x 60 cm Acrylic on birch plywood 2016

Maybe I Meant Reality (Nuclear Deterrent V) 90 x 60 cm Acrylic on birch plywood 2016

Maybe I Meant Reality (Nuclear Deterrent IV) 90 x 60 cm Acrylic on birch plywood 2016

Ralph Anderson Born 1977 in Glasgow, lives and works in London Education MA Fine Art, Wimbledon College of Art, UAL, 2011 – 2012 BA Fine Art, London Guildhall University, 1998 – 2001 Solo Exhibitions 2017 Lucent Umbra Paintings, JGM Gallery, London 2015 The Future of Drip Pop, ArtKapsule @ Koleksiyon, London I’d Like To Get Off Please, ASC Projects, London 2014 Retrobate, ArtLacuna, London Group Exhibitions 2016 30° Celsius, ASC Gallery, London The Fun Stops There, Art and Craft, London Bonfire of the Vanities, Display Gallery, London 2015 Invited Artist, SEEArt Fair, Tunbridge Wells Doppleganger, No Format Gallery, London Contemporary British Abstraction, SE9 Container Gallery, London 2014 50/50/50, Syson, Nottingham Pareidolia, Pluspace, Coventry The Lion and Lamb Summer Saloon, The Lookout Tower, Aldeburgh Summer Saloon, Lion and Lamb, London Expanded Painting: Mocka-Modern, Oval Space, London Post Canvas Assembly, The Miller, London A5, Lubomirov-Easton @ Art Athina, Athens The Hot 100, Sarah Belden Fine Art/Leonardo DiCaprio Foundation 2013 Auction, C & C Gallery, London Drawing the Line, Art Kapsule, Koleksiyon, London Out of the Blue, Morley Gallery, London 2012 MA Show 2012, Wimbledon College of Art, London Paper Nautilus, Nautilus Press, London Wunderkammer, Bow Arts Trust, London Utterance, Centre for Drawing, London Collections The Hospital Club Cafe Murano Landmark Plc Bolivar-David Collection 40