More Photorealism

Following on from the recent photorealist ‘portrait’ of Samuel Beckett, the latest painting on and now, resolved, off the easel has been along similar lines, employing similar means, albeit on a reduced scale (having exhausted the existing stock of larger canvases: had one been available, it would have been utilised).  This latter aspect proved itself to be less satisfying than the preceding endeavour – more cramped, less painterly, offering less scope for the brush strokes to just ‘be’, to be representative of the process of the ‘work’ of art, with, rather, virtually every mark having to be more descriptive in nature.

The portrait subject is Nick Cave, with the pose offering the bonus of describing the hands in addition to the head/face, the immediate object of reference being an A3 monochrome print of a colour photograph.

‘Nick Cave After a Photograph’

oil on canvas/20″ x 16″/October – November 2017

Ever since hearing The Birthday Party on the John Peel show, and catching the band live in 1981 (bottom of a bill supporting headliners Bauhaus with Vic Godard and Subway Sect between, at the Liverpool Royal Court), Nick Cave has loomed large on the personal cultural landscape, being a firm musical favourite as his career and repertoire has evolved, and it’s been a profoundly rewarding pleasure to listen, chronologically, to a good deal of Nick and the Bad Seeds’ back catalogue as an accompaniment to the painting process (providing the perfect excuse to indulge), if a bit strange to be looking so intently at an image of the artist as he performs.

Drawing on Memory...

coloured pencil & putty eraser/20x30cm

Following on from a recent post extolling the virtues of the live sound, as experienced, of Vic Godard & Subway Sect, I was thus inspired, albeit somewhat after the fact (but that, in ‘slow’ mode, is the habitual TOoT way), to seek out a photographic image of Vic from which to process a drawing in appreciative recognition of having enjoyed such entertainment & the great man’s talents.

Emerging, then, from the plethora of marks made, with coloured pencil (a quite recalcitrant & thus more labour-intensive medium than most, but of course it’s all about the work of art), the drawing process results in a representation of the figure of Vic Godard in performance, with guitar, the form of his face described colourfully spot- & high-lit in the manner of the Expressionist portraits of Karl Schmidt-Rottluff, for example – the whole image, indeed, being saturated with an intensity of artificial hues, which feature informs the (endeavours of the) drawing in turn.

Regarding, incidentally, matters of sartorial style, it might be noted that Vic is seen here favouring what might be described as the artist-known-as-TOoT’s signature style or traditional dress, on or off-duty, of shirt, tie & V-necked jumper: old school (as in 'worn from the time of') but always on the money.

Soundtrack:

With a musical subject providing grist to the drawing mill, it seems most appropriate to reactivate the old 'Soundtrack' feature that has traditionally attached itself to many a post, having been rather remiss in letting the acknowledgement of such habitual & integral accompaniment to the drawing process slide & pass unremarked. For the drawing in question, then, across the course of the various sessions devoted to, we have been listening to, with a few old favourites included (although, despite the presence of a couple of post-punk peers, not actually any Vic Godard & Subway Sect) & making a reappearance:

Scritti Politti ‘White Bread Black Beer’
Belle & Sebastian ‘Write About Love’
Wire ‘The A List’
She & Him ‘Volume Two’
Laura Veirs ‘Year of Meteors’

Catching Up With Vic

An invitation to Telford’s Warehouse in Chester to attend a celebration last night in honour of the venerable Mr Williamcheese’s upcoming ‘significant number’ birthday offered the opportunity also to witness & greatly enjoy a live performance by Vic Godard & Subway Sect, a band I’d previously seen & heard way back in the day some rather incredible-to-consider (with a slight shudder) 31 years ago, sandwiched, miscast then most inappropriately between the gothic melodramas of The Birthday Party & Bauhaus at the Royal Court in Liverpool (as mentioned here in the recesses of the archive).

On this particular occasion, Vic & cohorts were able to entertain, in a more intimate setting, a small but more appreciative audience with a selection of tunes from a career-spanning repertoire (dating thus from circa 1976) of Northern Soul-inflected yet angular, detouring post-punk toe-tappers – scratchy, trebly guitars, cheesy organ, sometimes off-key vocals & all - & a splendid job they made of it too, cooking up a rare old storm in suitably idiosyncratic fashion.
I must admit to finding such a sound enduringly charming & ‘homely’, it’s a place I know – am, indeed, ‘from’ - & have an abiding affection for, & Vic Godard & Subway Sect’s sheer persistence in ploughing their own particular furrow is to be much admired.
Inspired to research Simon Reynolds' essential ‘Rip It Up’, it was a pleasure to read again too the author’s & Vic’s words on the subject of his artistic philosophy, his influences, his commitment to his cause, his anti-star stance: it’s all good stuff, & thanks for a great gig & respect are due.

Update: September 12th 2012

After the fact, a drawing has been processed, re-mediated from a print of a photographic image of Vic Godard performing live, with accompanying text here:

coloured pencil & putty eraser/20x30cm