Artists Researched

Cornford and Cross
The White Bear Project
In visual representation, perspective is used to produce the illusion that the picture plane is transparent, allowing imaginary access into the three-dimensional space depicted. One of the functions of a screen is to obscure what lies behind it. Yet in this installation the screen consists of LEDs set in an open framework of clear plastic tubes, presenting the viewer with a shifting interplay between the illusory and the actual. Moving freely around the installation, the viewer can take a range of subject positions, including spectator, observer, watcher and performer.


Ackroyd and Harvey
Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, London
“A tree marks time. This artwork will grow year by year, transform as the seasons change, reflecting the evolving nature of the Olympic Park. These trees embrace metal rings which have been engraved with a record of the site’s history, held in the branches for successive decades to come.”

Oceans’ by Tania Kovats, below

Justin Carter, above
Mark Wilson
Neil, below

Snaebjornsdottir & Wilson
Anne Marie James, above
Andrew Cranston, above
Edwina FitzPatrick, below 

Jeffrey Dennis, above
Dougal McKenzie
The Isenheim Altar by Grunewald
Ikeda Manabu
Maruki Iri and Maruli Toshi
Ged Quinn
The collages of
Tom Lubbock
Icons of the 6th century
St. Catherine’s Monastery, Sinai

Between 1512 and 1516, the artists Niclaus of Haguenau (for the sculpted portion) and Grünewald (for the painted panels) created this celebrated altarpiece for the Antonite order’s monastic complex at Isenheim, a village about 15 miles south of Colmar. This polyptych, which decorated the high altar of the monastery hospital’s chapel until the French Revolution, was commissioned by Guy Guers, who served as the institution’s preceptor from 1490 to 1516. Established around 1300, the Isenheim monastery belonged to Saint Anthony’s order, which had been founded in the Dauphiné region of France in the 11th century. The monks of the Antonite order ministered to victims of Saint Anthony’s fire, a horrible illness that was common in the Middle Ages. This calamity’s cause is now known to be poisoning from a fungus (ergot) that grows on rye grass, thus contaminating the rye flour used in making bread. Ergot contains a chemical that drives its victims mad and results in gangrene of the hands and feet due to constriction in blood flow to the extremities. To care for the sick, the Antonites served them good quality bread and had them drink a concoction called saint vinage, a holy fortified wine, in which the monks had first macerated a special blend of herbs and then soaked the relics of Saint Anthony. They also produced a salve from herbs possessing anti-inflammatory properties.  The altarpiece tells the story of the spread and effects of the disease which was originally thought to be plague and to which the Aids epidemic of the 1980s was compared because it took the medical profession so long to find out what it actually was.

‘Meltdown’ by Ikeda Manabu, above
This was painted after the Fukushima Daichi nuclear disaster which followed the Great East Japanese Earthquake of 2011.  Manabu’s concern is increased urbanisation and the release of radioactive particles into the atmosphere.

‘Nagasaki and Hiroshima’ by Maruki Iri and Maruki Toshi, above
A series of panels depicting of the consequences of atomic bombing in Nagasaki and Hiroshima and nuclear disasters of the 20th century.  Each panel measures 18 metres by 27 metres.

 ‘The Raft of the Medusa’ by Gericault 1818-1819, above
491 x 717 cm
The wreck of the Medusa became an international scandal involving many deaths, starvation, dehydration and cannibalism.

‘The Great Art of Light and Shadow’ by Ged Quinn, above
Oil on canvas 183 x 234 cm, 2007
Quinn takes a work by Ruisdael (The Jewish Cemetery c. 1679) as the host for a depiction of the Stammheim cell where German terrorist leader Andreas Baader was found dead in 1977.

‘It’s That Man Again’ by Tom Lubbock 2001, above
Collage, The Independent
“The passing seasons and their ritual observances are honoured by Tom, sometimes coloured by undercurrents of the news, sometimes with a chary kind of wonder at their stubborn endurance. It’s That Man Again. Spooky Christ-in-a-box at Easter, or the expectant repeated eyes evoking a more innocent 1950s Christmas in Advent. The economy of the observation and the joy in the making are all part of the impact – a rare sensibility that finds purchase in acute personal detail.”  Mark Wallinger.
Before his early death Tom Lubbock had been  chief art critic of ‘The Independent’ since 1997, and had worked in newspapers, as critic and illustrator, for 25 years. He wrote the weekly Great Works column in the ‘Independent’ Arts & Books magazine, and was shortlisted for the British Press Awards’ Critic of the Year.

Christ Pantocrat, above,  6th Century, St. Catherine’s Monastery, Sinai, unknown artist.
The monastery has the best collection of icons in the world many of them in encaustic.  They date from the 5th and 6th centuries.  St. Catherine’s was an important centre for the development of the hybrid style of Crusader art.  Examples exist from the 13th century.
Peter Doig, Gustav Klimt, Wayne Theibaud, James Hugonin,
Briony Marshall, Mark Wright, Paul Shepherd,
Simon Periton, Dylan Goodwin,  Nigel Coates,
Ryan Gander, Simon Starling, Nelson Qiplexito,
Michael Andrews, Justin Mortimer, Alfred Jensen,
Ian Hamilton Finley, Karen Davie, Diane Cooper,
Charles Dufresne, Joanne Greenbaume, Lucio Fontana,
Philida Barlow,  Bernard Frize, Jeffrey Morgan,
Simon McWilliams, Hannah Maybank











Wayne Thiebaud was born in 1920 in Arizona.  He made posters for movies and theatre, painted signs and worked at Walt Disney Studios before  attempting to become a serious painter.  He exhibited his ‘food’ paintings in New York in 1961.
“My subject matter was a genuine sort of experience that came out of my life, particularly the American world in which I was privileged to be…..”
Quoted in  ‘Counting on Art’ Ten Things about Thiebaud










James Hugonin was born in 1950 in Co. Durham.  He went to Chelsea College of Art and works at the foot of the Cheviot Hills in a studio he designed. The surrounding landscape and his experience of it, are critical to his painting.  ”It is important for me to go out on the hills and just look at, and be absorbed by, real light and real things.” (Quoted in Michael Collier ‘James Hugonin’ in Exhibition Catalogue, New North: New Art from the North of England, Tate Gallery).












Paul Shepherd is a Canadian artist who studied at the University of Victoria.

“I think of my work as expressive – a visceral representation of the subjects, executed quickly in the initial stages, with subsequent layering adding depth and complexity.” Paul Shepherd.

While Paul Shepherd’s compositions are strong in a very ‘dramatic’ or even ‘melodramatic’ way, they are very literal and for me lacking in complexity and depth.  There is little left for the viewer to bring to the work.  His landscapes are less overtly representational than his paintings of buildings which fail to convey, as Edward Hopper does, the impersonal and isolationist qualities of cities.








Briony Marshall’s work explores microscopic and molecular worlds to draw out parallels and insights into the anthropocentric macro word we inhabit.

‘The Dream of Soceity as Flawless as Diamond 11’ in bronze was inspired by James Lovelock’s theory of Gala and draws on the concept that all life is interconnected.
Mark Wright weaves strands from ancient Celtic myths through to T. S. Eliot’s ‘The Wasteland’ and The Who’s ‘Baba O’Riley’.  It isn’t the youthful fear of growing old which engulf our collective thinking, but the worrying concerns that there may not be a future to grow old in at all if we continue to consciously deplete our natural resources and pollute our planet at the rate we are doing.  Mark Wright’s paintings encapsulate the psychology of our neurotic dyspeptic world, he claims but they have a deceptive beauty which belies their intent.

Simon Periton











‘Simon Periton’s work could be an anachronism, but it plays a double game.  It might be frail and delicate, materially lightweight – a decent retrospective, properly sourced, would probably fit in a carrier bag – still it’s full of powerful images of oppression and delinquencies: the knife that draws the barbs and barricades is necessarily the same knife that cuts through them, and the blank eyed seduction simply a way of drawing you into another world, a new network.

Will Bradley, 2002
Global Cities at The Tate.

Nigel Coates











Nigel Coates lets his imagination run wild using Bourbon biscuits, liquorice allsorts, and golf balls, and other unlikely materialsto conjurea vision of london’s future.  He focuses on Thames Gateway.









Ryan Gander was born in Chester in the 1970s. He is a multi-media artist interweaving elements of architecture, design, sculpture and city planning, as well as children’s books, language and performance.  All his work revolves around the nature or art and objects, tangled narratives in which fictions and realities collide.








In 2013, artist Simon Starling will create an ambitious new project in the Duveen Galleries. Through his work, Starling reveals hidden histories, processes and economies that bring objects, images or events into being. Starling was awarded the Turner Prize in 2005 and has had recent solo exhibitions at Tate St Ives and Kunsthal, Charlottenberg, Copenhagen. He lives and works in Copenhagen.








Justin Mortimer (b.1970) is a British artist whose paintings explore a human world where depravity and desecration seem a matter of course. Dark, nameless environments are occupied by figures witnessed in circumstances of physical threat and psychological distress, surrounded by sinister machines, medical apparatus and the evidence of conflict. These paintings are loaded with ambiguities surrounding their cause and context. Where are these people? What has happened? What is going to happen? Why? What exactly does that machine do…?  The Haunch of Venison Gallery








Ian Hamilton Finlay’s Garden of Little Sparta has been described as the epicentre of his cultural production from which his other works emanate.  It both chronicles and re-enacts the complex, contradictory relation between culture and nature, between the cultivated and the wild.










Alfred Jensen’s rarely seen paintings elaborate his comsological theories, drawing on the sciences of astronomy, physics, and mathematics, and frequently involving Mayan and Chinese calendrical systems.  Large-scale multi-part paintings span the artist’s mature career beginning in 1960.








Karin Davie
is a leading artist in the current wave of painting practices transforming the legacy of high modernism to capture the dynamics of contemporary life. Born in Toronto in 1965, the artist is a graduate of Queen’s University, Kingston, ON (BFA, 1987) and Rhode Island School of Design (MFA, 1989). Her work has been exhibited across North America and Europe, and was the subject of a major retrospective at the Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Buffalo in 2006. Other recent presentations of her work include: The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum, Ridgefield, CT (2008); Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto (2008); Artnews Projects, Berlin (2008); the Nerman Museum of Contemporary Art, Kansas City (2007); Mary Boone Gallery, New York (2005 and 2007); Wetterling Gallery, Stockholm (2006); SITE Santa Fe, New Mexico (2004); and Projects 63: Karin Davie, Udomsak Krisanamus, Bruce Pearson, Fred Tomaselli, The Museum of Modern Art, NY ( 1998). The artist lives and works in New York City.
Text by Jan Allen from Karin Davie: Underworlds







Living in Japan, a culture much older than our own, developed within me a love for the aged and worn surface. The Japanese aesthetic has been a major influence on my work.  This 

work embodies the concept of seeing beauty in life’s detritus. Materials consisting of used bitsand pieces of everyday life, including wood, leather, fiber and metal are often used in the condition in which they are found.  My style of working is intuitive. Each piece takesIts inspiration from the material with which I have chosen to work.  Diane Cooper
Joanne Greenb
aum’s playful abstractions, below, approach painting with a sense of liberation. Primarily concerned with the formalism of plastic arts, her canvases don’t follow proscribed formulas of conventional painting, but rather continuously test and expand the possibilities by which painting can evolve.









Philida Barlow. She has described her sculptures in the past as “bad copies” of something she once had a relationship with, be it emotional or physical. From a battered cardboard shelter to a precarious configuration of spindly legs supporting a flabby roof of tarpaulin, Barlow purposely disfigures her memories into fantastical structures that look like the remains of an embattled planet. Jessica Lack in the Guardian’s Artist of the Week. 6 May 2009







Bernard Frize chooses painting itself as the subject of his work. So-called external decisions, such as the choice of colour, the brush and the size of the canvas, are determined by a number of surprises and unplanned, unexpected, sensual experiences. Frize’s contribution consists of controlling chance, arranging colour with simple brush strokes, dragging or pouring the paint across the canvas. There is no image, no composition, no foreground or background, no previous mixing of colours. The act of painting is reduced to its most basic elements; they are facts consisting of canvas and paint. Frize’s paintings are intense and aesthetically pleasing while at the same time teaching us something about the act of painting and the idiosyncrasies of medium.









Irish Artist Simon McWilliams brings his unique perspective on the urban landscape to the heart of Culver City’s art district with an exhibition of his new paintings at Skotia Gallery. McWilliams takes his observations of the city around him and filters them through his bold, painterly imagination. What he delivers is a fictional developing city, housing mysterious forms cloaked with impasto paint, reminiscent of Christo’s wrapped buildings. Not a drab concrete city but a new optimistic metropolis, resplendent in abundant, tactile colours, promising, “a glorious morrow”









Hannah Maybank’s works have an otherworldly quality to them, employing recurring motifs of trees, clouds and mountains. The repetition of these motifs across the surfaces of the paintings not only echoes aspects of life, growth and decay, but also the cycle of the process in which the paintings were made.

The paintings begin as a series of overlapping drawings using precise outlines on layers of tracing paper. Using these intricate drawings as templates, Maybank then builds up her images on canvas using latex between layers of acrylic paint. During the final stages much of the latex is removed. Layers of paint are then peeled back, torn and cut into, producing a tactile surface suggesting forms such as a leaf or a tree. These forms become almost three-dimensional objects as the paint is peeled away from the canvas and underlying layers and markings are revealed.

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