Jessica Gabriel – “art beaut us”
E. Weever writes…
Jessica Gabriel, co-founder of Vancouver’s Mind of A Snail Puppet Co. and accomplished solo artist has dropped by the farm to treat us to her most recent painting, “art beaut us” – a commissioned piece depicting the BC coast (with idiosyncratic flare, both subtle and trumpeted).
With little shock on the part of our readers, the piece has put me in a wordy mood…
Waves break beneath wind curl patterns fraught with still life above. In the clouds I see a bird figure diving under – no, bowing – to a larger bird head that whisps backward into obvious dissolution and careful warming of all space below.
The mountain range background teased with the arbutus branch foreground leafy-mountain juxtaposition is a delight for me.
I feel serene and also in a foreign home.
The tree is quite so alive with muscle fibrous limbs curving and “searching stretching” (synonyms) in vivid, human-like displays. Something about the thickness and shading has me spying human thighs here and there. Arms point the way to sun and then explode into surprise and madness at the outstretches. Blooms of “oh Ahhh” as we/one/it opens to something felt vaguely before (and now it is so intimately real it is all there is).
Swirling faces in water ways below – I hear soft swish and maybe a passing ferry horn. Is this where the magic fish haunts?
Opening to color here.
The obvious face at lower right in the rock is spooky and ancient, popped out to gaze on the grass that grew from her body, rotted and disimbued. Tilting her head to the left with open mouth means she is adapting herself / breathing in new worlds (or new ways of speaking old ones)? So many faces and I admit I find the piece is highly sexual…almost pornographic.
The shore is where smaller rocks can survive. All are worn over time. There is a man with a Victorian wig bottom left (fyi).
All forms in this piece are wild (in that they don’t conform to my decision to view them). The forest’s green hue has clearly been selected for its dark brightness, which stands strongly pinned to give fluid grace to the windy, uproot’d aspects of the piece. In other words, the forest density contrasted with the spacious ocean landscape gives me a sense of restriction and return (an enjoyable dance – here is where I move in and out of the piece and laugh hysterically).
The whole thing breathes with impossible simplicity (for such a complex frame and detailed articulation). Shadow is well-played in the light of day. Warmth and attention are obvious overtones, cradled in the satisfaction of some great tease (do we dare see our coast with our eyes fully open?).
You can tell this painter has been held by this imagery. A strong (sisterhood?) is struggling to announce itself, made easy at the moment of willingness on the part of the observer. So much blood goes into this. If you die here remember the bowing bird. That is almost all that would need to be remembered.
E. WEEVER CONCLUDES.
The Sheet Pope writes…
Mae Dew writes…
is sortuv shifty know-it-all know-it some no-it-none. did dat take you der? what seems is breeze an what is is. wen you drink t with yer pains yu get paints.
oh i see it is tha coast thas my home. did u magine being out on dat limb? u could either jump an paint with pain or sit an watch an what did yu see? e very thing jumped off the limb an thas how it comes here so mite ass swell stay an make a pick sure of it.
wen u brush the sheet with the paint stik do yu think the tree feels dat? u sortuv made a kinduv pick sure here. i cud re view it.
i’m prey sure thas the coast uv be seen. i went there an i liv here. how long did she take on tha leaves? art beaut us is some clever name an true. im hungry. art beau toss toss in thos waves, bye tilal a.