Memory in my work
de
Kristian Purcell
My work is concerned with memories and images that seem somehow burnt on to the retina of my mind’s eye. I’m searching for a visual language that conveys the essence of a familiar person or situation that still carries meaning long after it has passed, trying to render the remnants that we are left with once the moment is gone. The finer details fade so quickly, but a sensation remains. I’m increasingly looking for my work to act as echoes of moments in my life. Maybe it’s a way of holding on to things.
I am preoccupied with this sensation: it hangs on like the glowing embers of a fire waiting to be re-ignited by a chance reference or random moment of a dream. Sometimes this doesn’t happen, or sometimes it happens so late that all we are left with is the feeling of absence of a memory, a vacant lot from which every last detail has departed. The random mark-making and spontaneity in my work obscures the details and allows me to explore the spaces in-between areas of detail.
The colours that I use – the browns, reds, oranges, greys and blues – strip the images of a naturalistic appearance. Things that should be dark are instead sometimes an intense red, sometimes they have their painted surface stripped away to reveal the lighter surface of the canvas. The lack of naturalism, alongside the random mark-making and still visible lines of construction, holds the images firmly in the realm of painting.
Though photography is sometimes a source, actual memories of situations, people and performances are increasingly become the source of my work. The photos I do use are often my own or those of friends, taken on mobile phones or in social situations. Photography and memories are interwoven in the modern world. They take the place of memories for us, and fill in gaps – how many of us have photographs of situations we would be too young to remember but feel like we can actually remember being there because of the photo. This happens with stories too, and the visualisation of situations we weren’t in, or the images conjured by reading, are things I look to draw from in the future.
Retour