Now Came Still Evening On, John Coyle and Gary Coyle @ The Dock, 10th September 2016.
For clarity, I will refer to each artist by his first name.
Gary Coyle’s Into The Woods (which was in the RHA last year, 2015), is continued to powerful effect in the Dock’s largest gallery. As the new iteration of Into The Woods consists of a salon-style display of large charcoal drawings on paper. The works are displayed atop wallpaper of Gary’s own design, consisting of a digital drawing of Coole Park, Co. Galway, AKA “Lady Gregory’s Forest”, or “The Dark Wood”, as Gary himself calls it (during the in-gallery interview conducted on 10/09/16). This digitally-printed wallpaper runs from floor to ceiling at an estimated height of 6 meters and covers two of the four walls in the space (image 1 above). One enters Gallery Two down a short black corridor, itself a sectioned-off part of the gallery, meeting first an enormous floor-to-ceiling heavy black curtain which covers one wall. This gallery is effectively a room without windows or doors, in contrast to Gallery One, where John Coyle’s paintings are displayed. Gallery One has three almost-floor-to-ceiling windows, along with spotlights on the works, and so is a very bright room. Gary’s room seems quite oppressive compared to the open, spacious layout of Gallery One. Furthermore, John’s small paintings are sparse around the white-walled space, whereas Gary’s large drawings seem crowded into the corner on one and a half walls (image 2).
The first image I encountered in Gary’s gallery (and the one I would find most striking overall) is Neo-Con, a very finely-rendered impression of a white Persian cat (image 3). The image as a whole is quite pale, with faint shadows hinting at ears. Likewise, negative white space is created by the jagged shadow at the bottom of the drawing, thus creating the cat’s body without being explicit (image 4 detail). Of course, this means that the drawing’s most arresting feature is the cat’s eyes which are sharply drawn, especially in comparison to the blurry tones used to indicate the rest of its body. The cat seems to address the gaze of the viewer, giving it sentience and perhaps even personality. Like many of the works in Into The Woods’ series, Neo-Con has an elaborate, baroque frame drawn onto the paper.
Beside Neo-Con is a drawing previously to be seen in the RHA; the self-portrait After Watteau (image 5). This drawing shows the artist himself wearing clown make-up, a curly wig and fake nose, but also regular street-clothes including shirt, tie and leather jacket. A prominent detail in this drawing is the large furry hood which covers the clown’s curly hair. This drawing seems to be a study in contrasting textures; the visceral textures of fur and hair contrast with the various fabrics (wool, cotton and leather). Even the smooth appearance of the face make-up is juxtaposed starkly with the figure’s true skin texture of his neck. The content of this self-image is loaded with contrasts also; the entertaining, frivolous occupation of a clown is displayed alongside the figure’s frowning glare and tense, hunched posture. However, the clue in the title adds another layer of differentiation; the figure is not a clown, he is Gary Coyle, an artist. The artist pensively returns the gaze of his audience as is usual for ponderous portraiture. Gary is using clown make-up to throw into high-relief the disparities between a frivolous clown and a serious artist. But, more than this, perhaps the artist is inviting us to look for humour in his work and in so doing, conclude that the one profession is not dissimilar to the other.
The Coyles’ exhibition has placed the work of father and son in side-by-side galleries, and so one cannot help but compare the artists’ works. Perhaps this is why a link formed easily in my mind between Gary’s After Watteau (Self Portrait) and John’s Old Boat Dun Laoghaire (image 6). Old Boat…is certainly different to After Watteau…but it is even different to the other works by John in Gallery One; the majority of the oil paintings have a gentleness which is evident in their light brushstrokes, and Old Boat…has solid, deliberate blocks of colour. The sea, the wet earth and the dark body of the boat are rendered with frankness and a sure hand. The paint is heavy, solid and wet, as the boat and the saturated earth depicted in the painting also are. In a direct, straightforward way, “The medium is the message” for John. This is where I see a disparity between Gary’s self-portrait and John’s Old Boat…; where John’s application of his medium mirrors the theme of the painting, Gary’s medium calls into question that which it depicts. John utilises the oil paint to reinforce the characteristics of the old boat; its stillness and gravity but perhaps also its stagnation and purposelessness. The tones and textures in Gary’s After Watteau (Self Portrait) are high-contrast, despite his subject matter having thematic unity. On the other hand, I can say that the self-portrait has yet another layer; the monotone greyness of the image perhaps suggesting the blurred boundaries of personal identity (further solidified by the depiction of the artist masquerading as that which he may or may not be). In conclusion, all I can state with surety is that the meaning of John’s Old Boat… is intrinsic in the painting itself, whereas Gary’s Self Portrait purposely avoids a clear statement.
Back in Gallery Two, I was comparing Gary’s self-portrait to I’ll Be Your Mirror, another elaborately-framed drawing of a close-up of an eye (image 7). Like After Watteau (Self Portrait), I’ll Be Your Mirror contains a very interesting rendering of hair and hair-like fibres. This drawing focuses on the eyelashes and the iris, which is shown to be a ring of fibres. The eyelashes could be described as exaggerated both in thickness and in length, some even seeming to reach toward the viewer and grow even larger through forced perspective. This surreal exaggeration of the hairs of the eyelashes contrasts strangely with the beautifully-detailed iris, which the viewer rarely would get the chance to examine or enjoy. Once again, Gary has made a work of high contrasts in I’ll Be Your Mirror.
Another work of John’s which held my attention was Flowers Still Life (image 8). The oil paint seems to have been thinly and lightly applied for this work, as, in places, the natural colour of the canvas appears to be showing through. This suits the subject of the painting which is two small red flowers in a glass upon a grey windowsill. Where light, quick brush-strokes often give a painting energy and movement, Flowers Still Life is a quiet, languid work showing an everyday object which may be overlooked had John not drawn our attention to it. The fragility of the flower is portrayed in its barely-there stem, which consists of nothing more than a green hue on the canvas. In spite of the vivid colour of the red petals, the fine, diffuse application of the paint hints at the delicate nature of the flower. This, as well as the overwhelming greyness of the painting gives Flowers Still Life a melancholic affect. The red flowers are ever more beautiful and hopeful because of their washed-out surroundings.
John’s Model in Studio is also mesmeric in its own way (image 9). This painting is straight-forward and pleasing in its formal rendering of the room in which the model sits. Lines are drawn in perspective to focus the viewer’s attention on the door, which is where the model is gazing also. As I encountered this painting without knowing its title, I became curious as to the narrative implied in the figure and the space depicted. The woman’s (and our) watchfulness of the door give the painting an anticipatory tension; who does she expect to enter? Now the entire image is under investigation and we are suddenly sure of nothing. In what context is the table that the woman sits on a normal table (is it more like a work-top or a doctor’s examination table)? If this is in fact the woman’s bedroom (as the background dresser implies) then why is her door thrown open wide? Again we must ask who she thinks will come striding into her bedroom, when she is not dressed to receive guests. This open-endedness of Model in Studio is generous and shows the confidence of the artist. We the viewer may read the painting in any way we please, our only clues available in the simple formality of lines which gently guide us toward the figure’s object of interest.
On the event of the opening of Now Came Still Evening On, Gary Coyle was interviewed among his installation in Gallery Two. Talking points included his digitally-printed forest wallpaper and comparisons with the work of his father, John Coyle. He discussed the difference between the iteration of The Dark Woods which could be seen in the RHA (2015) and the one on display in The Dock. Differences include colour (blue in 2015, green in 2016) and location (an evergreen forest in Montana in 2015 and a deciduous forest in Galway in 2016). A change that I found quite interesting was the absence of the cabin in 2016’s version of The Dark Woods. This cabin is famous as the hideout and location of the eventual arrest of the Unabomber, a nature-centred terrorist. Gary described this figure as having “lurked in nature”. Gary’s fascination with the Unabomber makes sense when he suggests that nature will take its revenge on humanity soon. Hence, Gary has rendered this quasi-legendary figure as a part of nature itself. His secret cabin is enjoined with the forest in line, shape and colour (image 11) just as his manifesto is shared with nature; to wipe out the technology which threatens nature and to punish humanity.
The haunting gaze of the cat in Neo-Con stayed in my mind as Gary discussed the Unabomber. In relation to the appearances of cats in his drawings, Gary reminded the audience gathered at his interview that humanity has bred the domestic cat to look as it does. Perhaps, for him, the cat is a representation of chaotic nature, existing under the surface of what humanity assumes is under our control.
“When you look at a cat, you don’t know if it wants you to pet it,
or if it wants to eat you”.
He then went on to state that, after porn, the majority of content on the internet in cat-related. It is inarguable that people find cats funny. If we keep in mind Gary’s use of the cat as a metaphor for “lurking nature” which will eventually emerge to punish us for our carelessness, our enjoyment of cat videos becomes rather depressing. Clearly, we laugh at cats only to assuage our fear of the chaos of nature and our guilt in damaging the planet.
If the blue wallpaper that we saw in the RHA is intended to surround us with the latent revenge of nature and hidden human evil, why did Gary change it to a forest in Galway? In interview as well as in written documentation of the work, it is the supernatural that is of concern in the Coole forest depicted at the Dock in 2016. This new version of The Dark Wood focuses on Yeats’ and Lady Gregory’s hunts in the forest for fairies and other magical creatures. These mythical excursions take on a sinister disposition when we compare them to the FBI’s hunt through the Montana forest for the Unabomber. And so, both iterations of The Dark Wood serve to put the audience right in the middle of a concealed force that we can never truly understand and which is (or has the potential to be) malicious.
So, what does Gary Coyle want? Does he want you to “enjoy the work” as he says, or does he want you to feel nauseated? If he wanted me to be happy, why did he literally surround me with a dark forest containing all the forces beyond human control as well as whatever else you can dream up in the dark? Do you laugh when you look at his cats or do you feel existential dread?
The answer to these questions may be in the exhibition itself. Juxtaposing John and Gary Coyle’s works makes the viewer think inter-generationally. We read works from separate time periods differently. One automatically assumes that John’s work is conceptually uncomplicated; it exists for its own sake and is to be meditated upon and enjoyed. On the other hand, one would assume that a more contemporary artist is out to subvert the very concept of “Art”. And this is somewhat reinforced in interview with Gary, for whom “Pleasure is a dirty word”. We expect subversion from an artist like Gary Coyle, and, even more confusing, we get it to an extent. A fine example of this is the frames that occupy a lot of his drawings which “act as inverted commas”. And so, we have evidence to suppose that Gary makes multi-layered work which has a conceptual profundity regardless of how inane the subject matter appears to be.
John’s work is sincere and Gary must ironise in order to be sincere.
To conclude I will say that a reading such as this causes problems for both artists. Putting the bodies of work side-by-side heightens their characteristics to extremes, making Gary’s works cynical and jaded where John’s are naïve and simple. I don’t think we should assume that just because an artist is contemporary, they are subversive and ironic. Likewise, “being naïve” is not an accusation I would level at any artist, regardless of the time period in which they worked.
The Dock’s inclusion of John and Gary Coyle in Now Came Still Evening On allows for this difficult discussion regarding audience views on artists of various generations. An exhibition such as this helps the viewer to recognise when they are making presumptions.
I’m sure for some people, Gary’s cat is just a cat. I happen to enjoy thinking that it’s the abyss. Precisely what Gary meant it to be isn’t so important.
“Now Came Still Evening On” runs at The Dock, Carrick-on-Shannon, Co. Leitrim, Ireland until 12th November.
All images are mine (Fiona Brennan) except for image 11 which is from https://twitter.com/glucksman/status/712284569651826688
The above review is my own work and my own opinion, apart from quotations from Gary Coyle’s interview on 10th September. Apologies if I have misquoted him accidentally. A recording of his interview may become available on The Dock’s website http://www.thedock.ie/
