| |
What makes Charles Goolsby's
images so compelling is the fusion of bold, often brutal, execution
with subtle nuances of mood. He responds to the landscape and life
around him -- man-made structures, landforms, people -- yet his
work transcends the particular, evoking a larger vision of human
isolation and mystery. Although reminiscent of the Bay Area Figurative
artists and their interest in the physicality of paint, Goolsby's
expressionism is markedly personal, reflecting his own inner life,
observations, and pictorial preferences. His gestural brushstrokes
transform viscous paint into light, space, and emotion, and any
motif he chooses, becomes a point of departure for an aesthetic
and expressive exploration.
Common sights -- an intersection of roads, railroad equipment, buildings
in the landscape -- become uncommon in Goolsby's paintings. Hillman
Highway Crossing's dynamic stillness is created by powerful
diagonal thrusts of hill and road anchored by a vertical railroad
gate. The steely blues and blacks are punctuated by a fictional
pale yellow light, adding to the canvas's eerie, highly charged
mood. A railroad tower's double lights set against a bluish-white
sky is the subject of Tower. In this work edges dissolve,
dark merges into light, and geometric shapes fuse with the tangible
space. A familiar scene is transformed. And in Abingdon Crossing
the vigorously brushed dusty pink and gray paint conceals rather
than reveals the motif of house and road.
It's the game of looking we play when vewing the painting Night
Hoop, a study of a basketball net seen from below. The web
of spaces dissected by the net becomes a veritable study of advancing
and receding shapes. In places sections of the rope disappear as
the paint in the ground overlaps the lines. And the one small ovoid
shape on the left locks the whole composition into place with its
deeper blue hue. This work tells us that the process of painting
is as important as the finished product itself.
Indeed it's the process of subtracting light from a dark ground
that becomes the starting point for the velvety darks and luminous
lights of Goolsby's monotypes. In Crossing Gate the light
virtually splashes like a liquid spray from behind the central railroad
gate and signal. throwing a glassy reflection below. The mysterious
mood in Tower is achieved by placing the view beneath the
object and immersing its dark silhouette in an explosion of light.
In some of the landscape monotypes a bright sky illuminates buildings,
land, and trees, in planes of light and shadow. Especially evocative
is Screen; in it the strong black and white patterns create
an architectural composition, with ominously dark trees and slender
poles fortifying the central house. Though Goolsby's recent monotypes
form a cohesive series, they vary in atmosphere and mood, from the
dynamic perspective that sucks the viewer in Abingdon Bridge,
to the gentle poetic mood of Deck and Ball, with its small
touches of ochre and red. In all of the prints, no matter how free
and painterly the stroke or sweeping the interaction of value contrasts,
pictorial space remains solidly structured.
Why do Goolsby's motifs -- signals, crossings, bridges, intersections
-- work not only as subjects for painterly investigation but also
convey symbolic meaning? It's that they become correlatives of the
human journey, a journey which is a groping in the dark while hurtling
through space and time. It is a journey marked by enigmatic signals,
transitions, and unknown encounters. And he achieves a perfect union
between this metaphorical suggestiveness and pure painterly experience,
which is often a stumbling block for lesser artists.
When Goolsby chooses to render the figure, it's with a similar combination
of mood and abstraction. And although there's no clear narrative,
the viewer does feel a palpable psychological tension. Amid the
gestural marks, drips and scumbles, in Camper II, stands
the isolated figure of an adolescent boy wearing a faintly visible
baseball glove, poised looking over his shoulder into an abyss of
darkness, as if peering into the unknown. The painting suggests
an inquiry into sexual transformation and the loss of childhood,
as well as the ominous nature of seemingly innocent games. All we
see of the boy's shadowed facial features is his slightly opened
mouth -- a small but focal detail that seems to disclose the vulnerabilityof
puberty.
Charles Goolsby's large scale paintings and small monotypes blur
the distinction between abstract and figurative art. They merge
a passion for the physical nature of paint and art-making with a
response to the visual world. And add to that equation the emotional
and metaphorical nature of his images. In our time when painting
competes with the dazzle of the electronic flicker, this artist
reminds us that the use of brush and paint remains a powerful way
of exploring art and life.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Suzanne Stryk is a painter and critic who resides
in Bristol, Virginia. Her art has appeared in numerous juried exhibits
throughout the United States. She has been included in shows at
the Southeastern Center for Contemporary Art in Winston-Salem, N.C.
and Ralston Fine Art in Johnson City , TN. Her reviews have frequently
been Published in Art Papers, Atlanta, GA. This essay originally
appeared in "Landscape Transformations: The Paintings and Monotypes
of Charles W. Goolsby" Published by the William King Regional
Art Center, Abingdon, Virginia, 1998.
|
