Showing posts with label Susie Hamilton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Susie Hamilton. Show all posts

Thursday, 16 April 2020

The impact of Covid-19 on artists. Part 4: artistic responses to the coronavirus and the prescient zeitgeist

16/04/20
Part 4: artistic responses to the coronavirus and the prescient zeitgeist

In the fourth instalment of this five-part essay, comprising conversations with artists around the world, we look at the work artists have made in response to the coronavirus, and the prescient zeitgeist

Unsurprisingly, a lot of art is already beginning to be produced in direct response to the coronavirus. Anita Glesta (b1958, New York) began working on a new film piece, Corona Butterfly, even before New York City – or the rest of the world – was in its current state. In her work, the virus is depicted as an insect or bug that enters and flies through organs in the human body. “The butterfly isn’t beautiful or ugly,” she says, “but it is clearly a presence foreign to the body. It ends its journey in the lungs. I hope that with the juxtaposition of the beauty of the musical passage from Beethoven’s Piano Concerto Number 5 Opus 23 and the lightness of the flight of the butterfly, despite the gravity of its meaning, this work illuminates the paradoxical experience of our shared humanity during this quite terrifying time of crisis.”


Read the rest of part four here




Friday, 1 July 2016

Review of Susie Hamilton: in atoms at Paul Stolper

Susie Hamilton: In Atoms
Paul Stolper
9 June – 9 July 2016

Drips of paint, suggestive brush strokes, thin translucent veils rendering the surface indistinct. Even when clustered together, Susie Hamilton’s paintings evoke a pang of loneliness: they offer snapshots capturing that sense of isolation and existential angst we have all felt during moments of despair. Returning to Paul Stolper Gallery for a 20-year retrospective, the artist offers an overview of her work, showing both its breadth, but also the simultaneous consistency of her preoccupation: lone figures, filled with sadness, exposed in darkness or light; the comedy of human pursuits. As Albert Camus wrote: “At any street corner the feeling of absurdity can strike any man in the face.”



Read the full review here