Machine Politick

In this article, I am going to be speaking entirely about the merits of the art. Unlike most of my work, there will be no political agenda. I don’t know the painter in question or his politics, but the work is an example of what could be coming out of the art community rather than what is widely accepted as ‘art’.

The artist I am highlighting today is James McLaughlin Way, who is a phenomenal painter living here in Atlanta. I stumbled across his work on Sunday at the Mason Murer Gallery where I was dropping off a piece for the Art Papers Auction this weekend. Here is the story.

Upon entering the gallery, I was immediately impressed by the sheer size of the building. Most galleries in Atlanta are seedy little back alley joints, or cramped spaces in high-end art districts where everything is about status and nothing is about the art. I didn’t get that impression at Mason Murer, which is in a huge converted warehouse. The only things they have added to the interior are a reception desk and display walls. It is a vast and awe inspiring space. All of this from walking in the door on a Sunday afternoon, when most of the lights were off.

The experience with my work will be part of a future article after the auction this weekend. All of this is lead-in however, to impress on you the magnificence of the painting in question. Upon leaving, my friend Alvaro said to me “Let’s go over so you can see my friend James’ work”. Upon stepping around the reception area, I was struck nearly numb by this painting, which loomed over me like a monumental placard of personal anguish and strife. Before you take this as criticism, please bear me out. It is meant to be a compliment.

The first thing out of my mouth was “Why don’t I know who this guy is?” Which was answered by “You know why. It’s realism.” My opinion on that will have to wait for another article as well, but I assure you it is one of my greatest criticisms of the art community. I spent the next several minutes examining the work; getting up close to enjoy the detail and richness of the painting; stepping back to admire the composition and mood. I was continually surprised by details I had previously missed, as if the glazing of the oils were a soupy fog that was twisting and turning about the piece to reveal or obscure the intricacies within.

This painting is of a monumental horse, called The Bow. For you to fully understand the imposing nature of the piece, you must know that it is 11 feet tall and 16 feet wide, hanging up on a wall as if some giant was running the gallery. The base of the painting is about a foot off the ground, so no matter where you stand, this larger-than-life horse is towering over you in his misery. Perhaps the dim lighting in the gallery played a role in the mood, because on going to the web page, I noticed it was very white. Regardless, pictures never do art justice and this is my take on the piece. The great horse is standing in this thick fog, with head bowed and a white cloth draped across his back. He looks beaten down by the world in which he lives, exhausted and stopping to catch his breath. Maybe I’m projecting here, but it is a very moody piece.

I was shocked when I tore myself away from the details long enough to step back. (You see, as a painter, I have this habit of getting right up on a piece to examine the brushstrokes and glazing. I learn something from every painting I look at.) In the depths of that vast and heavy fog is a city that begs the question of where the horse has come from. What is going on back there and how does it relate to the horse, or me, the viewer. I strongly encourage you to take a few minutes to look over Mr. Way’s work because this is what artists need to be doing with their talents. Art for the sake of shocking people is absurd, but art for the sake of beauty speaks to people. It tells a story and conveys an emotion or personal connection. It moves people.

This article will be cross posted at Liberatchik

This entry was posted on Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010 at 11:50 am and is filed under James McLaughlin Way, art, art criticism, classical art, culture, fine art, painting. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.