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CLAIRE CHÊNE: True North, paintings
FIG Gallery, November 15 to December 9, 1995

Claire Chêne, Ocean, 1995
oil on canvas and wood panels
48" x 88" overall (3 panels)

Claire Chêne, Wildfire, 1995
acrylic on wood panels
48" x 104" overall (4 panels)

Claire Chêne, New Forrest, 1995
acrylic on canvas
60" x 60"
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Claire Chêne, Continental Divide, 1995
acrylic and brick dust on canvas
48" x 60" |
Les terribles fremissements de la terre
et les vomissements des cratères
sont le langage qui nos dévoile
les mystè des inaccessibles profondeurs.
--Claude Albore-Livadie
Claire Chêne's large "elemental" paintings in her
solo exhibition at FIG Gallery mark a departure in her abstract-symbolist aesthetic. They
take the elements (earth, fire, water) as their subject, intensifying what would be the
ordinary components of landscape painting and exploring them as forces of nature beyond
human control. They present the viewer with walls of roiling fire, torrents of turbulent,
engulfing water, and mountains of shifting earth that recall the eighteenth-century
definition of the sublime as the representation of overwhelming natural forces that at
first evoke terror, but when "tamed" within the frame of art give rise to a
terrifying beauty. They also recall Immanuel Kant's definition of the sublime as involving
forces too large for the imagination to encompass, thus generating a sense of awe at what
lies beyond human comprehension. Psychologically, the confrontation with sublime nature
becomes an encounter with the idea of our own death, or simply with the anxiety produced
by the earth-bound uncertainties of human life.
Oceanis a three-panel, turbulent Tsunami-like wave,
sufficiently abstracted that viewers may not recognize what it is until it is "on top
of them," so to speak. The upper reaches of its transparently painted wave are offset
by the quieter passages that comprise its undertow. Yet frozen in time, the wave can also
seem like a bluish glacial ice-cave that is ultimately as beautiful as it is threatening.
Landscape presents us with the reddish-brown blocky
planes of a rugged mountain whose vertical escarpments plunge into the middle foreground
like a fluid landslide of muddy earth that provokes the thought of our falling or sliding
to our deaths into a grave of earth that awaits us. Continental Divide is a more
abstract painting of earth-toned planes seamed with black, its fluid brown paint mixed
with brick dust to give us the feel of seeing the earth shifting directly infront of our
faces.
Wild Fire is a four-panel painting of a wind-whipped
wall of fire. It's foreground exhibits a few twisted and charred black branches left by a
fire that is consuming everything in its path, while the heat and terror of the image is
accentuated by patches of sky blue visible through the fire's smoke in the upper reaches
of the painting. Yet the fire is so intense and again beautiful that it carries
psychologically metaphoric connotations of purification in addition to ideas of
destruction.
Forest is a lush green patchwork of verdant forest
in the midst of which a waterfall gushes with incredible hydraulic force, indicated by the
unusually wide parabolic curve of its falls. But the force in this particular painting is
less the destructive force of the water than the sense of an enormous amount of life-force
capable of producing such a surfeit of green. And as the title of another painting, New
Forest, might suggest, the life-force of Chêne's forests may represent a process of
psychological renewal and transformation that may be prefigured in the idea of death that
the more violent instances of the sublime raise.
Also included in the show are smaller acrylics on paper that
pick up the landscape imagery of Chêne's larger paintings. In two, My Boat Coming In
and My Boat Going Out, an empty, sail-less rowboat in a cove becomes a dreamy
figure of passage from one psychological state to another. The incoming boat floats in the
washy small breakers of a relatively calm sea, entering a cove defined by the sketchy
brown outlines of rock, ready for a soft landing on the beach, as if somehow guided by an
unspecifiable force, while the outgoing boat heads into a rougher and darker sea (perhaps
the onset of inclement weather) toward the outline of black rocks in what may be a
metaphor for the kind of anxiety we feel whenever we embark on a new and uncertain phase
of life. A Family Portrait, a large four-panel narrative painting more
characteristic of Chêne's symbolic abstraction, represents members of the artist's family
in imagery (a hot sun, a fragment of Mexican architecture, a moon hanging over a
show-caped peak, barely visible ghosts of human figures, and boat shapes that suggest the
idea of passage) that weaves from panel to panel.
CLAIRE CHENE: Arezzo Paintings: Years of
Exile
FIG Gallery, October 12 to November 5, 1994
Claire Chêne's second exhibition at FIG Gallery in October
will combine her "Arezzo" paintings, based on 15th-century Italian Renaissance
artist Piero della Francesca's frescos for the choir of the church of San
Fancesco, Arezzo, with thematically related abstract work.
From Piero's whole cycle, which spans an enormous narrative
(centering around the wood of the cross) from the death of Adam to the return of the
"true cross" to Jerusalem, Chêne has selected two of the more
"miraculous" scenes, the Finding and Proofing of the Cross and the Dream of
Constantine, and she has painted them in a looser, nonrealist modern style with
significant alterations. In the scene of the proofing of the cross, for example, she has
omitted the very event that is supposed to "prove" the cross
"true"--the resurrection of a dead young man from his casket in a funeral
procession--thus forcing the viewer to make his or her own judgement about the cross.
Similarly, in the Dream of Constantine, she has moved the angel who points down at
Constantine asleep in his tent from the left to the right of the composition, where it no
longer fits the authoritative compositional X of Piero's original that makes the angelic
vision seem somehow "preordained." In an even larger version of the Dream of
Constantine, Chêne dispenses with the angel entirely. Thus, while paying homage to Piero
della Francesca's painting, Chêne subtly subverts the force of dogmatic faith.
Constantine's vision may be in the mind of the dreamer, the transformative dream taking
place in imagination as metaphor rather than as literal event.
Alongside the Arezzo paintings, Chêne has placed abstract
work that explores the tension between our modern experience of social chaos and
fragmentation and our desire for a more stable realm of community. In one work, for
example, what looks like the windshield of a car (a symbol of social mobility) sends
abstract splinters of glass flying while the painting's upper background abstractly
suggests the kind of architecture of the small Renaissance city on a hill that is in the
background of Chêne's rendering of Piero della Francesca's Finding and Proofing of the
Cross.
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