Eric Schindler Gallery

View Original

"If Your Colors Were Like My Dreams" - New Paintings by Ted Randler

Opening Reception

Friday, October 25, 7 to 9 pm

Artist Statement

I don’t paint in a planned series of related works. I use each painting as a stepping stone to the next one. Looking at the pieces in this show, I can see now how there’s a definite lineage of change in technique and subject matter.


Actually, the evolution of genres in “If Your Colors Were Like My Dreams” occurred over the course of  these last three years. “What The Purple Martin Saw In The Garden Mirror Ball” was the final painting of 2021 that led to a new year of my using nature as a resource for motifs. I like to break apart the elements of a landscape – the patterns, space, light, flora and fauna – to create compositions that aren’t necessarily depictions of specific places inasmuch as they are re-imagined garden spaces.


As with all compelling dreams, there are elements of truth that I pull from life. But then the demands of the painting process transform the nature scenes into designed, artificial spaces. I’ll want the composition to swirl out from the center, or I’ll create “almost patterns” of flowers from their original random placement. It is similar to when gardeners try to achieve a type of artificial design over nature’s seemingly chaotic growth.
In 2023, the human figure and domesticated animals entered the compositions. Early on, with the first two works, “Cat’s Cradle” and “Queen,” I can see where the previous year of painting the twisting tendrils of plants and wavy reflections of water had loosened my brushstrokes into spinning calligraphic marks. I continually balance the verisimilitude of what I’m depicting with preserving the painterly marks I use to create the image.


Similar to examining the elements of a landscape, I wanted to explore what constitutes a portrait as opposed to a figure in a narrative format. To me, a single figure in a composition is a portrait; the minute you add a second figure, it becomes a drama.


I have always had an ardent interest in art history and using it as a resource for images and compositions. In some cases, as with “Cat’s Cradle” and “Queen,” I’m overtly interpreting existing historical works. Although, with other paintings like “Floating Flowers,” I’m making subtler references when I incorporate just  the background scenery from the 1852 work “Ophelia” by Sir John Everett Millais.


At some point towards the end of 2023, I noticed that when I source a historical work for images, I have a tendency to mimic the light of the paintings. Gradually, I had replaced the sunlit, saturated hues of the garden paintings with the more somber ambiance of 19th-century tonal portraits.


In 2024, I was watching a movie from the 1950s and it occurred to me that the Technicolor presentation of perfectly-lit figures wearing glamorous makeup and performing on stylized sets was very similar to the Neoclassical features of paintings by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres and Jacques-Louis David.


I began to paint faux movie scenes to capitalize on the Technicolor effect and exaggerated patterns of shadows made by key lights. These works also enmesh the figures in a whirl of patterns and textures as in “The Oracle” and “Tiger Lounge Rendezvous” where the compressed compositions read like woodblock prints from Toyohara Chikanobu’s “Beauty Pictures” series.


While I had tackled landscapes and portraits, there was still another genre to address in the still life – the ultimate artificial space. As a memento mori, the still-life elements of fruits, flowers, pretty collectibles, instruments, and curios are presented to remind the viewers of the brevity and fragility of life. In reality, it was more of an excuse for 17th-century Dutch painters to show off their skills with realism.


In watching Technicolor movies, I am fascinated by the objects in the foreground and background. My still lifes create narrative play between the viewer and the objects and figures in photos, in reflections, or in the background. For example, in “Jolene,” if we follow the logic of the composition, anyone who views the painting is standing next to the woman in the mirror.

 


Exhibitions runs through November 30, 2024.