

The result is, in part, something approaching a mini Rothko-esque emotional encounter.A Royal Experiment: The Private Life of King George III George crosses the boundaries between high and low, combining a refined abstract aesthetic with humble stitch work. The frames on the smaller ones are not quite so extravagantly demonstrative, but still in bronze, heavily textured, and following the eccentric contours of the asymmetrical wonky borders of the enclosed work. This exhibition is a little more minimalist than the last show at the same gallery, if one discounts for the moment the florid frames, particularly displayed around the larger embroideries. In these works, depth and modulation of colour work their sensory nuances and overtones on the mind. Other works reference the colours of flowers, fallen petals left bruised on a pavement or the changing tints and shades of a mutable sky. These connect to the subject of memory-hollows, dents and depressions made by objects no longer present-marks that allude to a past now unrecoverable, known only by the pockmarks left by a previous life. They are, essentially, abstract creations which display subtle colour ranges, employing sometimes ridged formations that look like aerial views of walled paddocks or labyrinth-like configurations. There are various ways one can interpret this, but the artist has chosen to read it as somehow endorsing abstract practice, while she works in colours that allude to floral blooms.Īnd this is exactly what she has done in her tapestry-like textile pieces, that are hand embroidered, where the stitching gives the appearance of fur. He enjoyed playing “language games” after the Tractatus proved too linguistically confining. This comes from one of those gnomic sayings Wittgenstein constructed. There is also an unmistakably organic element in their forms, and as such they find a kind of kinship with elements that make up the title of the show: The Rose has Teeth in the Mouth of the Beast. They declare emphatically that they are integral to what you are looking at. There is nothing demure and understated about these borders.

They are made of brass-winding, curling and disporting themselves in bold and inflated fashion-and in so doing become an art work in themselves. As a consequence, some displays present an extravagant and theatrical scaffolding that in its art nouveau configurations, gives a deliberate nod to the melodramatic and overblown framings of the past. Her mantra is: If you are going to have a frame, then let’s do it properly. The work of Australian textile artist, Teelah George, embraces the practice of mounts, edgings and enclosures-and does it with knobs on. This trend is exemplified in an exhibition currently showing at the Laree Payne Gallery, Hamilton. After decades of devaluation, the frame has returned, though not necessarily as a window on the world. The frame, after centuries of service, was dead.īut now, in the twenty-first century, the frame is back. Nothing was to complete with the aesthetics of pure colour, line and form. With the arrival of the Abstract Expressionists, however, the frame was discarded altogether. These boundaries encompassed everything from the ‘Old World Cathedral’ look-complete with gilded curls, baroque swirls, and carved acanthus leaves thrown in for good measure-to the rawer and unsentimental style favoured much later by members of the American Ashcan School in the early twentieth century. Sometime in the second century BC someone drew a border around an Etruscan cave painting, and thus was born the frame which decorated and protected works of art up until it was deemed a distraction in the late 1940s. The Rose has Teeth in the Mouth of the Beast
