Artist Statement

Maximum Sun
Recent work by David Blatherwick

The body of work documented from 2012 onward represents new work that hints at representation and natural phenomena in a way that is distinct from past preoccupations . Some of the installation shots come from a recent gallery installation. These new paintings flow from a number of influences and experiences that have resulted in a distinct approach for this particular series.

Lately, I have been looking at the Sun and wondering. To begin with, the Sun has a life of its own that is both fascinating and frightening. Like all stars, it is turbulent and prone to outbursts. This might be a mere curiosity if some these outbursts didn’t cause electrical grid breakdowns on a massive scale here on this planet. Even on a calm day, the rays of the Sun would toast the Earth if it weren’t for the various protective layers in our outer atmosphere. Below those layers we still need other forms of protection- mostly in the form of forest canopy- in order for the surface of this planet not to become an over heated, oxygen depleted dust bowl. It’s a pretty thing to look at, this star, but it carries with it a ferocious capacity. Yet, like most determining things in our lives, the Sun remains pretty much an enigma. It is something we admire and respect but our real knowledge of which remains outside our grasp: thus it is rife with poetry.

It is no small coincidence that I routinely run through a forest near our home in the early morning and have noticed how a spectacular, lyrical light show takes place as our star’s light filters through the dense weave of foliage, falling in a multitude of ever changing patches on the forest floor. It is beautiful beyond compare and, at that moment, it is all mine. Because my eyes are mediocre in low light, the patterns of light and dark become rather blurry semi-abstractions in my perception. Since the ground is all broken up by light splotches this leaves me with a rather floating sensation that is frankly pretty trippy. Or, in looking up at the forest ceiling, I see a constellation of light patterns in the tiny openings between the chaos of leaves and branches. If I could make this into a painting I would.

From this are derived some of the experiences that I want to transmit through this group of paintings. These unassuming patterns of light and shade found in any forested area become meditations on simple phenomena that have complicated implications. I have reduced the amount of information derived from these observations (which I document in photography and drawing) and made these patterns into ethereal monochromes of varying mineral shades. They are musings on something simple that may no always be.