If the only John Wood painting in the gallery was “Shared Experience,” a casual viewer could be excused for thinking him a landscape painter in the Impressionist School. This panel, which is almost twice as wide as it is tall, seems to show a body of water, a lake or marsh, possibly at dawn, beneath a cloudy blue sky, with a shoreline of something orange in the foreground, and just enough detail of reeds or branches to create the feeling of plants in the mist. While it’s not impossible that this arrangement suggested itself to the artist as he painted it, there’s nothing quite like it in the dozen other works at Phillips this month, or indeed in the extensive John Wood archive on the gallery’s website. In fact, the evidence is clear that nothing so representational is intended by this wonderfully inventive, abstract colorist.
In a popular cartoon, a tall building labeled Portrait Gallery stands next to low one labeled Landscape Gallery. The joke, which seems to inform Wood’s predominantly square panels, points up the fundamental importance of vertical and horizontal modes, not only in art, but in perception, and even more in the underlying facts of experience. While not entirely discernible in person, it’s not hard to figure out that essential to Wood’s process is the amassing of layer upon layer of color, largely opaque and transparent oil stick, interwoven with elaborate scribbling and, here and there, words written in pencil and then largely but not completely covered over. What’s not to be discerned by the eye, and so maybe should be dismissed from the mind, is evidence of the original layer that Wood will tell you was a figure drawing, done on the paper that prepares the panel’s surface to respond supportively to all this activity.
The same influence of gravity that organizes “Shared Experience” is visible in “Sense of Being,” where the grays and greens at top and bottom are divided by a mid-ground cut of jagged black that dispels any firm notion of landscape. Unless, that is, this is a mental, even a cognitive landscape, which the title arguably supports. In fact, throughout this collection, predominant horizontals have titles that suggest states of mind, while the more energetic, vertically-figured panels have titles suggesting action: “Believing in Magic,” with its passage from darkness to light; “Shadow Hopes,” with its tumbling blue redirected by a horizontal thrust; “Threads,” with its tangles tinted by verticals behind them; and even “Not Holding Back,” with its suggestion of total dedication.
There’s a temptation, standing in front of “Bright Day,” to violate the rules of decorum by lifting the painting off the wall and rotating it 90 degrees to the right, thereby turning it into a beach scene. Fortunately, the computer achieves such vandalism with the harmless touch of a button, enabling proof that the work is properly hung as is. But such impulses, to reach into a representation and rearrange it, are part of the artist’s intentions. The works are balanced, but not statically so. In life, our senses constantly test the perceptual field, and the pleasure of viewing art harks back to the training we received once upon a time from the natural world. What could this be? Just what is going on here? The realm John Wood depicts is full of sensually fascinating passages for the eye to discover and the mind to interpret.
The best examples may be in “Perception of Reality,” which is at once both a single, unified vision and a congress of discreet recollections, like stanzas in a poem or chapters in a story, the details of which conspire to simultaneously set them apart even as they stitch them inseparably together. Structure, let’s call it architecture, this strong would be futile if no life danced in the space and on the stage it provides. The qualities that makes these vistas so compelling is their completeness: everything is present, the lights are on, and it’s all under way at once.
John Wood, Phillips Gallery, Salt Lake City, through May 11
Geoff Wichert objects to the term critic. He would rather be thought of as a advocate on behalf of those he writes about.
Categories: Exhibition Reviews | Visual Arts