TW: We’ve known each other for some time now, but it has been a while since I saw your work in person. There seems to have been a gradual departure away from the type of work you were making when we lived in New York. I once got a verbal scolding when I said to Mike Goldberg that the paintings he made on the Italian Coast during the summer had a different quality about them to the work he made in New York City - I still believe it to be true despite what he said ;-).  I’m therefore hesitant to ask, but how much has the environment in Israel influenced the evolution of your work? KP: I believe that the geographical and political environment we live and work in has a great influential force on the work, as well as the personal and psychological dispositions of the artist. By geographical I mean both natural and architectural scenery as well as a specific quality of light. if you look at the classical northern European paintings you find a unique  quality of light you won't find elsewhere, and the reason to that is the natural light that these great painters knew. Mike Goldberg was part of the New York school of abstract expressionists, who were very much influenced by the writings of Clement Greenberg. One of these painters' endeavors was to create an arena of painting that is exclusive, in which subject matter can only be painting itself, with regard to its history alone. Personally I think that painting cannot release itself from pre knowledge of vision. however, that ideology may explain the verbal scolding coming from Mike... TW: Absolutely, Mike was a purist in that sense but I totally agree with you. The environment around is inescapable, how could it not influence both his perception and use of space and color. I think in retrospect he might look down and agree. Was that a clap of thunder? KP: A few months after I moved back to Tel Aviv, I felt I had to find new approaches to my work, to come up with a different technique than the one I was developing in NY. I decided to put paint aside for a while and was only drawing for a few months, until I felt that one of the drawings needed a space [see painting below]. That space was very much derived by the seascape seen from my studio window, and the beginning of a long painting period which led to the work you are about to show in your gallery. TW: Your earlier paintings were quite process based, with a lot of spontaneous gestural drawing and layering, where you would scrape away the paint with a large pallet knife or squeegee to build the surface. The resulting abstractions had visual references to the photograph or negative. It looks as through the paint brush has returned in your more recent works. Would you say that the content, or subject matter of your later work has driven the type of materials and tools that you use? That being said, has the content of the work become more interesting to you than the process? KP: It is true that the process or the technique was much more evident and extroverted in the older work, and that the decisions that were made while working were more spontaneous because of the rapid nature of the work. However, the full content always reveals itself through the work, and I never know where the work on a painting would lead me to. It is always the process that really creates the work for me, not so much an idea or prevision, even though every painting begins with one. I think that along my evolution as a painter what mainly changed is the temper or tempo. I would say that the Temper of the older work had more to do with hysteria and hunger whereas now it is stiller. Also, the older work was more physical and it's substance more evident, almost like sculpture, the new work is lighter in substance and tends to the gaze more than to the body. TW: I know your art vocabulary is very extensive. Who have you been looking at recently? Who have you found interesting and/or inspirational? KP: Last June I took part in a project by Gilad Ratman that represented Israel at the Venice Biennale and thus was able to look at the fabulous work of a Belgium painter named Thierry de Cordier  that was shown there. His dark seascapes stayed with me ever since. also, a few years back i saw Peter Doig at the British Museum, which i found very interesting and I believe had touched my work. [caption id="attachment_10455" align="aligncenter" width="577"] Seascape - Thierry de Cordier[/caption] [caption id="attachment_10454" align="aligncenter" width="587"] The Milky Way - Peter Doig[/caption] TW: The horizon has always been a part of your work in some form or another, plastically and or conceptually. I remember a beautiful piece that you did a long time ago (during the more process driven period) where the canvas was seamed together to create an horizon. The horizon has become much more a part of these later paintings. What is it about the horizon that interests you? KP: Wow i really can't believe you remember that, it's fantastic! You are right, the horizon carries a great metaphorical meaning for me thanks to its liminal quality. To me It represents the meeting place and conciliation of endless dichotomies such as mind and matter, knowledge and faith, catastrophe and salvation, etc etc. I think that the clash of such dichotomies lies at the root of our being and is a source of great wonder as well as deep agony and frustration. TW: Your newer paintings have a darker, more brooding color pallet in contrast to the lighter, quite joyous paintings from Series 1. Has this been conscious and where do you feel the work is heading? KP: True, the work has lately become less joyous and more dramatic. The conscious decision, which of course is only part of the full picture, was to examine the roll of color in my work. I wanted to see to what extent the work relied on color, and if I only painted monochromes, when or if  the use of color became a necessity. Also, to me there is something very strong about the vast white fields. They carry the quality of a silent and ambiguous desire craved to be fulfilled, and this is also a good metaphor to end with regarding where the work is heading; It is an ambiguity that I desire to reveal. [caption id="attachment_10476" align="aligncenter" width="708"] Untitled 2014 - Keren Paz[/caption] We are thrilled to be exhibiting Keren's work. For a great art experience, be sure to visit the TWFineArt Gallery in September and see it in person!

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The Codex Coner is one of the most beautiful surviving architectural manuals from the Renaissance. Created around 1510, the illustrated manual was complied in Rome and documents historical and contemporary Roman architecture by the likes of Bramante (1444--1514), Raphael (1483--1520), and Michelangelo (1475--1564). The scope of it's contents and information are unmatched and can be attributed to draftsman & Florentine carpenter: Bernardo della Volpaia (c.1475--1521). The manual was discovered by Michael Goldberg during his time in Italy and influenced a major body of his work from the late 1970's until the mid-late 1980's. 'Codex Coner Piede Vicentino' by Michael Goldberg 1980 [pictured below left] references the fundamental structures of Roman architecture, the divisional lines appearing as abstracted columns supporting the uneven weight of the pink colorfield. The technique Goldberg used to create these works on handmade paper was particularly fresh. Matt medium was applied to the paper with water to create a wet surface that Goldberg would draw into with lecturers chalk - a material that the artist would find an affinity with and subsequently use in paintings for the remainder of his career. Renowned collectors Herb and Dorothy Vogel found particular interest in this work and acquired several drawings for their collection. 'Codex Coner Piede Vicentino' was donated to  Yale University as a part of the Vogel's 50 x 50 - 50 Works for 50 States, after Dorothy's passing in 2012. We are thrilled to work with the Goldberg Estate to include 2 of these amazing and historically important works in our limited edition print collection. Visit our SHOP to see the available work, or enquire with the gallery about sales of the original works.

   

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I recently had the pleasure of meeting South East Queensland artist Gert Geyer. In addition to being a fantastic bubble blower (witnessed at the Brunswick Street mall re-opening) Gert combines an illustrative touch with the whimsy and spontaneous creativity of the fine artist to create these magical, graphic works of art. The border between illustration and fine art has always been a difficult one to define. If I was to define it though, I would say that illustration tells a very specific story by communicating ideas or meaning with visual tools. Fine art on the other hand is quite an open ended exploration of the visual language. Gert is a hybrid of the two disciplines. She skillfully draws reference from the world around her, then utilizes text and hard edge imagery to create beautiful pieces reminiscent of the work of Stuart Davis and Alex Katz. There is a lovely 1970's quality to the imagery, with a great play on space, pattern and color. We will be collaborating with Gert over the coming month to create a unique series of limited edition prints and are looking very forward to having a very talented Brisbane local on our roster of contemporary international artists!      

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Together with this months feature exhibition [The Animitas by Veronica Ibanez Romagnoli] we are releasing a new series of photography by the artist in limited edition print. [caption id="attachment_10132" align="alignleft" width="290"] Animata's # 27, 2009. Photo Print by Veronica Ibanez Romagnoli[/caption] These gorgeous photographs remind us of the enormity of the landscape and our place within it. Focusing on the Animita, Ibanez captures the resting places of the dead. Not dissimilar to the sarcophagi of the Egyptians, the Animitas are homes for the souls of the departed. The Animitas are constructed from basic materials and are often adorned with offerings like flowers and gifts for the spirit. Each dwelling is prepared and maintained by the family and friends of the deceased. Set against the remarkable backdrop of the Chilean landscape, they are aesthetic marvels that defy scale. The humble, miniature dwellings are scattered throughout the landscape, sometimes in the most unusual places - as if all alone in the world. Visit Veronica Ibanez Romagnoli's page in our SHOP to view her complete print portfolio. [caption id="attachment_10138" align="aligncenter" width="800"] Animata's # 30, 2009. Photo Print by Veronica Ibanez Romagnoli[/caption] [caption id="attachment_10126" align="aligncenter" width="800"] Animata's # 26, 2009. Photo Print by Veronica Ibanez Romagnoli[/caption]

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The new work by Michelle Matson 'Untitled' 2014 (below) that is on show now at Postmasters in New York City is not all that it seems at first glance.           What appears to be a sculptural structure made of simple styrofoam cubes littered with food scraps and tennis balls, is actually a carefully crafted sculpture of imitation. We live in a world of imitation - a Louis Vuitton bag in the store may be copied in some backwater factory and sold on the street for a small fraction of the price of the 'original' sold in the store. It's our business to take a high value artwork and reproduce it in a limited edition print that is essentially a replica - only it costs almost nothing compared to the original. To the undescerning eye the copy is as good as the original, it feels the same, weighs the same, looks the same - so isn't it essentially the same? What makes one item more valuable than the other? Duchamp offers a theory - that is one of context; if a run of the mill bottle rack is turned upside down and placed in a Gallery, it is more valuable than the exact same bottle rack that you have sitting in the garage. It's an interesting philosophical question that makes you question the way we assign value to objects. Why do we value one thing more than another, even if they appear exactly the same? I remember being quite taken with some sculptures by Jeff Koons. The pieces were these inflatable pool sculptures that seemed to float around Sonnabend Gallery when they were exhibited in 2003. I was totally convinced that they were appropriated plastic blow up toys until I touched one. They looked like plastic toys, the only difference was that they were cold to the touch - not plastic at all, rather exact replicas cast out of aluminum & steel. He reversed the Louis Vuitton scenario - making a mass produced $5.00 pool toy into a multi million dollar work of art. Matson seems to be playing with the same ideas. In this sculpture she has taken rather utilitarian items, like styrofoam cubes and created hand made replicas, stacking them into a sculptural formation as if they were the real thing about to be carved out. She has then hand made scraps of discarded food like banana peels (from paper) and imitation tennis balls and thrown them atop the sculpture like preciously disregarded trash. Its quite a commentary on the precious verses the utilitarian - like Koons, something rather benign and valueless has been converted into art. This line of thinking is very relevant to our lives at the moment. Mass production techniques have elevated the copy to a state of almost perfect imitation. Retailers have cottoned on to the idea, designers like Stella McCartney not only cater to the exclusive one off, but make high quality garments that can be massed produced through better production capabilities and offer them through other retailers at a fraction of the price of the items in her stores. Just as good as the high end thing - for most of us? I think so. Matson & Koons reverse this thinking and the result is fascinating. Visit Michelle's website to view more of her amazing work.

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