The revival of British painting continues apace with a new show by this innovative landscape artistby David Killen / November 5, 2013 / Leave a comment
A few weeks ago I wrote here that British Painting was back. Of course, it never went away: it carried on quietly and purposefully while the spotlight was trained elsewhere. One of the places it has been flourishing is a small venue at the end of a quiet residential street in Islington. The Art Space Gallery was founded in 1986 by husband and wife duo, Michael and Oya Richardson. Both former architects with a passion for art, their clear-sighted purpose was to show “the more robust and imaginative varieties of figurative painting being carried out by established or emerging British artists.”
I learned about it from The Spectator’s Art Critic, Andrew Lambirth, who has long championed both the gallery and the artists it shows. These are modernist painters with an innate understanding of their cultural inheritance. Anthony Wishaw’s meditative contemplations of nature teeter on the brink of pure abstraction, while tapping into a strain of British Sylvan Romanticism going back to Samuel Palmer and beyond. Jeffrey Camp is 90-years-old but still has a fresh, youthful vision of the British landscape. There are echoes of the Second World War painter Eric Ravillious, but mystery too, with Arcadian nudes and mythical beings providing hints of Chagall, or even Poussin.
What took me there recently was a new show by George Rowlett, one of the gallery’s more regular exhibitors. Born in Scotland in 1941, he attended Grimsby School of Art and then both Camberwell and the Royal Academy Schools. He was taught by Frank Auerbach and Euan Uglow who famously painted a nude portrait of a young Cherie Blair, but his earliest influence was Van Gogh, and it still shows. The way the paint has been moulded on the picture surface is reminiscent of Van Gogh’s restless brushwork. The association is most obvious in Rowlett’s flower paintings, but it’s also there in his series of Canaletto’s Views of Greenwich, where sky, buildings and river flow into each other in swirls and ripples, reflecting and echoing each other.