The Series Paintings
Messum’s, Cork Street
The story goes that long ago the brilliant and provocative painter and art critic John Berger met Cotton. (In 1972 Berger's TV series and book Ways of Seeing changed everything for many of us). He admired the young artist's vital and fresh paintings. 'I really think the knife is the way you should go', he said, and that was the beginning of the densely textured impasto effect which is Cotton's trademark.
What I like about Surging Tides is its honesty and grittiness. This artist makes paint and colour luscious, even thrilling. (Alas, these reproductions do not do his work justice - go to Messums website for a more truthful depiction).It's a brave artist who choses to paint beautiful places. You face two stern challenges. How do you bring something new and unique to what is so familiar? And how do you resist being beguiled by beauty in order to bring a deeper, layered appreciation of what you see?
Cotton reminds me that the seaside is much more than picture-postcard prettiness. Those rows of sharp shards of rock point out to sea like bayonets. They defend our shores by joyfully and energetically doing battle with the never-ending flow of tides and waves. At Hartland the coast puts up a fight. There are parts of Devon and Cornwall where the rocks are not to be trifled with. They are rugged and sharp. Slate can slice through an unprotected foot in the most beguiling of pools; rocks find the innards of an unwary ship. Not like the East Anglian shoreline which is soft and crumbling. Sand and dunes move and sway with the waves. Cliffs may finally surrender and tumble into the foam. Here the rocks have seen it all before and are not going to give one inch.
What I like about Surging Tides is its honesty and grittiness. This artist makes paint and colour luscious, even thrilling. (Alas, these reproductions do not do his work justice - go to Messums website for a more truthful depiction).It's a brave artist who choses to paint beautiful places. You face two stern challenges. How do you bring something new and unique to what is so familiar? And how do you resist being beguiled by beauty in order to bring a deeper, layered appreciation of what you see?
Cotton reminds me that the seaside is much more than picture-postcard prettiness. Those rows of sharp shards of rock point out to sea like bayonets. They defend our shores by joyfully and energetically doing battle with the never-ending flow of tides and waves. At Hartland the coast puts up a fight. There are parts of Devon and Cornwall where the rocks are not to be trifled with. They are rugged and sharp. Slate can slice through an unprotected foot in the most beguiling of pools; rocks find the innards of an unwary ship. Not like the East Anglian shoreline which is soft and crumbling. Sand and dunes move and sway with the waves. Cliffs may finally surrender and tumble into the foam. Here the rocks have seen it all before and are not going to give one inch.
Yet it’s a seascape which is almost an abstract. I particularly like the curved lines of the waves as they approach the rocks. It’s as if the sea had found a hollow and the resulting pattern is intriguing, almost vertiginous. And the way the light falls on the golden left hand corner as well as on the sea itself is a delight.
Devon – Hidden Cove at Hartland is also splendidly robust. Look at those waves – they’re firing straight up in the air. The rocks on the left stand like sentinels. Is that the partly submerged spine of a sea monster? And the sea itself is very physically present, rich, solid, shockingly white.
P.S. I noticed how thoughtful and, indeed, useful the lighting was at Messums. This is not true of every gallery I’ve visited.
alancotton.co.uk
messums.com
Ways of Seeing (Penguin Modern Classics) by John Berger
alancotton.co.uk
messums.com
Ways of Seeing (Penguin Modern Classics) by John Berger
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