"David said to me that if we could unburden our preconceptions of what
the artist is supposed to be, we could get back to the experience of
art."
As has become customary, the marvelous Upon a Midnight Dreary blog has gotten there first and reviewed my forthcoming Purgatorium show ahead of the rest of the World. It did help that Dahlia Jane, had the opportunity to see a couple of the works first hand, whilst she was here for the SD expo. You can read her spiffing review in full from the link HERE. Thank you Dahlia.
In other quarters-the Social Media ones-regardless of algorithm impediments, it's been well received from what I can tell. With that said, I happily welcome any prospective bloggers, writers or editors to cover my show, and should any of my readers happen to know how to get my work before the right ears, eyes and noses for periodicals like Hi Fructose, Juxtapoz (all the usual suspects), I'd appreciate it. Any buzz generated will make all the difference to the outcome.
Here it is-11 of the projected 24 pieces for my show- Purgatorium - opening at
Bash Contemporary September 5th-October 5th, Artist reception 6th 6pm -
9pm-all inquiries to info@bashcontemporary.com, 
(415) 926-8573 www.bashcontemporary.com
Good Wombs Have Borne Bad Sons-oil on canvas
-48"x36" $3500
What's Past is Prologue-oil on canvas-48"x36" $4000
A Thousand Furlongs of Sea, For an Acre of Barren Land-oil on canvas-48"x36" $3500
The Dark and Backwards Abysm of Time- oil on canvas-48"x36" $4000
Brave New World-oil on canvas-48"x36" $3500
Misery acquaints man with strange bedfellows-oil on canvas-48"x36" $4500
So Lie There, My Art-oil on canvas-48"x36" $3000
Poor Worm, Thou Art Infected-oil on canvas-48"x36" $4000
Night Kept Chained Below-oil on canvas-48"x36" $4500
Space Have I to Lie in Such a Prison-oil on canvas
-48"x36" $4000
He That Dies Pays All Debts-oil on canvas
-48"x36" $5000
Purgatorium
"Hell is Empty and all the Devils are here"
The Tempest-William Shakespeare
In his forty-fifth Year, David Van Gough embarked upon a series which
would finally confront the daunting shadow cast by his most famous
ancestor, and the inevitable connotations of that surname.
Adopting the characterization of Vincent Van Gogh as martyr– and
recapitulating stanzas from Shakespeare's Tempest recast as themes of
life's metaphorical exile – Purgatorium (Latin for “the place in
between”) sets a chronological backdrop of re-imagined personal
biography from the desolate mire of his Liverpudlian upbringing to
imagined death and the shadowed here-after.
The series is Van
Gough's manifestation of the artist-as-alchemist via an exorcism of our
contemporary society that suppresses arcane secrets, the ancient craft,
the magical depths. The result is an epic parable of traumatic
realization and purification."
For your eyes only, a little tease banner-pocket size puddles of eleven-a small thread of a big heavy rug. As the proud Dad of this rabble spawn, it's quite something to stand on the periphery of it all-a universe of hope, anticipation and possibility to survey before birth date, before the big hand hits twelve.
It's a vantage point that renders the effrontery of the mundane as mere pettyfog, the hours of knee grazing and tongue gnawing as measured wing waiting.
Art is all about timekeeping, after all.
On the last leg, literally.
Eleven down, final canvas in progress.Hard to believe.
That's the penultimate piece above- 'Space enough have I, in such a prison'-which like the titles of all the paintings in the series-is a line from the Tempest.
Been watching umpteen adaptations, and the Derek Jarman one is still my favorite-like a Dorothea Tanning in chiaroscuro, it has Jack Birkett as Caliban, and a winsome Toyah as Miranda.
This is my version of Miranda...whats that? Looks like my wife? I won't have it - any resemblance to Lani is purely coincidental.
Actually, that's a lie, Lani is in all of the pieces, quite simply because whatever sun that has risen or set in the studio, it has done so with her blessing.
Never a hint of complaint, grievance, or resentment for that other bedfellow, for our muses are like mistresses that we spend our hours bewitched and infatuated by.
For all the "oohs" and "ahs" doled out for those concubines gazing from walls throughout history, the Art widows of the world are the true goddesses.
