Winchester Galleries in Oak Bay has brought the work of five 鈥渆merging鈥� artists to our attention.
Carollyne Yardley is already well-known locally for her finely painted Squirrealism, in which glossy-eyed rodents sport all manner of costumes. Neil McClelland鈥檚 numinous landscapes of dystopian vacation realities were the subject of this column two months ago. Vicky Christou presents strands of extruded acrylic paint laid down in thick mats. Sean Mills offers sheets of transparent acrylic moulded into simple forms.
My attention was captured by the fifth member of this group, Jeremy Mangan. Mangan is a tall young man from Kent, Washington, now living in Tacoma. His roots there go deep, back to a great-great-grandfather who homesteaded along the Hood Canal. Mangan鈥檚 detailed canvases depict situations set in the local woods and waters so familiar to him.
His paintings are, at a glance, almost photo-realist and are accomplished with considerable skill. Yet each one has an element of the impossible, which interrupts and unsettles the familiar reality of it all. I spent an hour with the artist, getting to know him and coming to terms with what these 鈥渄ispositions鈥� might mean.
Mangan has always been artistic.
鈥淚 was the kid in school whose dinosaur was in three-quarter view with some shading,鈥� he said with a chuckle. 鈥淭here was a lot of artistic talent in my family, but the fine-art world never entered my perspective.鈥� Thus his first training was as a commercial illustrator, but upon graduation he received a Fullbright fellowship to study in Munich, and the experience of studying at the Academy of Fine Arts there completely changed his direction.
鈥淭hings I did not see in suburban Kent, I was seeing every day,鈥� he recalled. He had time to visit Paris, Italy, Greece, Spain. 鈥淚t was a sea change, which opened and changed my paradigm.鈥�
Subsequently, he did graduate studies at Hunter College in New York, living in that city for five years and eventually earning a living doing ice sculpture. New York was important to him, and he had the full experience, but concluded: 鈥淚鈥檓 not a New Yorker.鈥�
Determined not to get lost carving ice 50 hours a week, he returned to base.
鈥淚 love being native,鈥� he confessed. 鈥淚 love where I鈥檓 from, my family and friends. I needed to trade money for time.鈥� Now back in Tacoma, he revels in his 鈥渄ream studio,鈥� located above a fantastic caf茅. 鈥淚鈥檓 glad to be home. It鈥檚 my lifeblood, it feeds my soul: the water and the colour.鈥� His attachment to place is evident in every one of the five paintings on show.
We looked at his Lenticular Cloud, a giant sunset skyscape rising over a distant Mount Rainier. In the foreground is an enormous and improbable pile of chopped wood. There is always a trace of human presence in his landscapes, 鈥渂ut it鈥檚 not an environmental statement,鈥� as he was quick to point out.
The next painting is set in a forest glade like Goldstream. A rustic seat is provided for someone to sit and consider a giant mossy rock shaped like a bear skull. The shape is improbable, but possible.
I noted his skill in rendering the deep woods, and said some people consider such ability as merely 鈥渋llustration,鈥� a pejorative term.
鈥淚 don鈥檛 believe that,鈥� Mangan stated. 鈥淓very two-dimensional visual representation is some sort of illustration.鈥� With his rigorous conceptual grounding, he鈥檚 turned this skill into an asset.
鈥淚 want to portray, to render and make a believable a coherent single experience and image. That鈥檚 the magic,鈥� he told me. 鈥淚聽like to reward the viewer.鈥�
Rigorous contemporary studies were upended upon discovering a painting by Hans Holbein in a museum.
鈥淲hen I discovered I could make the kind of work that I would want to see, my focus shifted, and it became more fun.鈥� His goal is to create a singular visual experience, fully communicating without additional commentary.
The first painting of his series shows the tangled roots of a tree, clasping a pirate鈥檚 chest. It has been pried it open a little, and light bursts out. Through these paintings, an intrusion into the natural world is represented by light 鈥� more spirit than object.
One of the most effective paintings takes place in the slash and waste of a beautifully rendered clearcut. On a weathered stump in the centre, an old wooden chair acts as host to a hovering, buzzing blip of neon. Other blips hover on the margin of the clearing. These beings are some kind of life form. They seem to have a consciousness, and some sort of purpose and organization.
鈥淭hey are strange, even to me,鈥� Mangan admitted. His paintings flirt on the edge of possibility, occasionally going slightly beyond into the supernatural.
He cultivates the tension between the humorous and the melancholy.
鈥淭he interesting places are in the tensions,鈥� Mangan explained. 鈥淲hen I hit that tone, that timbre of disposition, there is a satisfaction. That disposition is the thing I want to land on 鈥� neither romantic nor polemic.鈥�
Finally, we consider his picture of a bonfire floating on the ocean.
鈥淚 do love campfires,鈥� Mangan confessed. Logs heaped and burning with crackling embers, the little zips of sparks, and one burnt-out stick steaming away in the shallows 鈥� all are exquisitely rendered. But how well would a floating fire hold together, he wondered?
鈥淢y mind can鈥檛 solve it. Maybe just enjoy it,鈥� the artist concluded.
And that鈥檚 just the way I like it.
Five, at Winchester Galleries, 2260聽Oak Bay Ave., 250-595-2777, winchestergalleriesltd.com, until May 20.
