
Gregory Hardy - "Journeys in the Landscape"
Mendel
Art Gallery, 2001
click here for images from this
exhibition
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
T. S. Eliot, from "Four Quartets", final section
Landscape provides Gregory Hardy with an inexhaustible source of mystery.
His paintings are not representations of actual landscape as much as
they are surrogates for the artist's experience of nature. In an amalgam
of the observed and the imagined, Hardy invokes the memory of the original
experience, and finds an emotional and spiritual equivalence. Acknowledged
in this process is a recognition of the seemingly arbitrary character
of memory, where some aspects of experience achieve a greater significance
in the mind than others. Hardy's paintings, rooted in the experience
of the transformative processes of nature, serve as metaphor for the
duality of an inner and outer world.
In Hardy's formative years, a desire for adventure, for the unknown,
paradoxically found a balance in the corresponding need for the security
of the familiar. Born in Saskatoon and raised in a home at the outskirts
of town, his early years were spent, in large part, satisfying youthful
curiosities of life in the country. As a young man, Hardy had the somewhat
romantic notion of becoming a National Geographic photographer, a decision
that led him to enroll at Ryerson Polytechnical Institute in Toronto.
Hardy describes his work there as that of a documentary photographer.
His subject was the run down area of town, often depicting a single
figure. One of the projects he undertook while at Ryerson brought him
back to Saskatchewan, and an involvement with an important group of
artists, among them Otto Rogers, Joe Fafard, Douglas Bentham, Robert
Christie, Dorothy Knowles, and William Perehudoff. Towards the end of
his time in Toronto, Hardy, perhaps inspired by his engagement with
Saskatoon's painting community, produced his first artworks; collages
from his own photographs, as well as works made by painting directly
on his photographs. After almost three years in Toronto from 1970 to
1973, Hardy, longing to paint full-time and feeling an emotional pull
from the prairies, moved back home to Saskatoon. The paintings he produced
at that time were most often of single figures in a landscape. Some
were from direct observation, others were invented. Eventually the figures
disappeared from his paintings.
Almost 30 years later, among the family photographs, other memorabilia,
and paintings that adorn the walls of Gregory Hardy's Saskatoon home,
is a much admired watercolour by Saskatchewan artist, Robert Vincent.
While the Vincent painting is visually interesting in its complex structure
of shadow, light, and reflections, it also suggests, for Hardy, a quasi-dream
world. It depicts a winter scene experienced while traveling on a winding
northern road. There is a sense of enclosure, with a partially frozen
lake surrounded by a forest. Reflections draw in the larger world of
clouds and sky, making a connection between the macrocosm and the microcosm.
This visionary sensitivity of the particular to the universal is an
important consideration in Hardy's work. For Hardy, the Vincent work
connects with his own experience of the identical scene, which he discovered
when on the road to Wolliston Lake, during his former employment with
the department of highways.
What distinguishes Hardy's paintings in the present exhibition from
those of his past is the practice of bracketing or framing the landscape.
The painted border elements function as intermediary zones, providing
a buffer from outside space, and a transition into an intimate interior
place. Hardy's framing of the landscape connects with the enigmatic
interiors of British painter, Howard Hodgkin. Construction of the image
is through intuitive brushwork applied layer by layer in a combination
of wet-into-wet and overlapping dry-brush strokes. Important to maintaining
clarity of surface is the use of 'tar gel', which enables acrylic to
be worked like oil paint. Successful resolution of the painting is dependent
on Hardy's considerable experience of the brush-in-hand. Colour carries
a distinctly emotional resonance in Hardy's paintings. The often brooding
tonalities within his works align them to the late paintings of Friedel
Dzubas, whom Hardy met at the 1979 Emma Lake Artists' Workshop. In their
balancing of naturalism and symbolism, Hardy's paintings also relate
to the Symbolist painters of Northern Europe, active during the period
1890 to about 1910.
Artists often take two steps back and one step forward in order to
develop new work. Hardy's 1970s landscapes provide an early antecedent
to his current works. Their imaginative structure of bar-like forms
recall the abstract landscapes of former Saskatoon artist, Otto Rogers.
Hardy acknowledges that he learned a lot from Rogers about mark making
and space articulation. Perhaps most significantly, Hardy learned from
him the importance of keeping on working at a painting; making it more
and more complex, and more and more beautiful. Hardy's early paintings,
which he refers to as pictographs, often included references to the
sun, as well as other landscape forms, and were painted with two or
three inch house brushes; a fact that accounts in large part for the
size and character of the marks. An examination of Hardy's present studio
reveals an extraordinary assortment of artist brushes of every conceivable
size and shape; evidence of the continuing importance of the hand in
his visual shorthand of marks. Some of Hardy's 1970s paintings contain
circular forms at their center, surrounded by delicately modulated colour.
In discussing these works, Hardy confirms an enthusiasm for the imaginative
landscapes of Adolf Gottlieb. Hardy's current paintings also reference
his experience of Mexican altars. Objects such as a bowl or even a dead
chicken, treated as icons in an act of veneration, were bracketed on
either side by brightly coloured cloth. This framing device is apparent
in his 1995 still life paintings completed in Ecuador.
The catalyst for these new works can also be traced back to Hardy's
familiarity with historical European painting. In 1983, while visiting
the Museo del Prado in Madrid, he chanced upon a Tiziano painting, Venus
y el Amor. The Tiziano painting integrates an interior scene and a landscape.
Through the dark red curtains of a loggia - inhabited by a well-dressed
man playing the organ, in the company of a reclining nude female with
an infant - is a classical garden complete with a fountain, grazing
deer, and an avenue of trees stretching out to a distant horizon; a
solitary figure walks a path towards the horizon. Hardy's interest in
the relationship of interior and exterior space, as seen in this Tiziano
picture, connects with his own interpretation of the prairie landscape.
After an Evening Rain, The Heart of Summer is a study in contrasts and
of differing registers of representation. The structure of the piece
is of an enclosed landscape with a river meandering towards the horizon,
illuminated by the raking light of the setting sun just after a rain
storm, and framed by an assemblage of swiftly applied strokes of colour.
The dark red at the left edge is a direct reference to the colour of
the curtain in the Tiziano work. After an Evening Rain, The Heart of
Summer's contrast of a broadly painted edge and the subtle modulated
tones of the inner landscape contributes to a reading of the picture
as an imagined idyllic landscape; one that contains elements of both
desire and loss. Tiziano's and Hardy's paintings both establish a unity
of the temporal and the spiritual.
Distant Thunder, while similar in composition to After an Evening Rain,
The Heart of Summer, has a more direct connection to the actual subject.
Distant Thunder is another of Hardy's pictures where vivid atmospheric
phenomena, in this instance just after a rainstorm, serve as metaphor.
It has about it a sense of an epiphany, of a special moment, which presents
itself with extraordinary intensity. There is, at work, an affirmation
of the dramatic transformative power of nature. Gesture and wrist movement
are essential to the expression in this work. Perhaps one of the most
content laden marks is a dry-brushed area of pale lemon yellow just
above the horizon. It is charged with a feeling that is difficult to
pin down, and is all the more powerful because of it. The painting as
a whole is suffused with a clarity of light that offers up the possibility
of new beginnings. River in Badlands presents a similar composition
as After an Evening Rain, The Heart of Summer, where a river winds its
way through a treeless landscape of gently rolling terrain. River in
Badlands provides an ageless landscape independent of human activity.
In the foreground are figurative-like rock formations, sentinels at
the entrance to a landscape of absence. Here the elemental grandeur
of sky and earth lives on in its own terms. River in Badlands was the
result of a canoe trip Hardy took from Medicine Hat to the Saskatchewan
border, memories of which were aided by a photograph he had taken during
that trip some seven years earlier.
The genesis of Storm near Marengo was observations made while driving
late one afternoon, under a sky of cobalt blue with the atmospherics
of a distant storm. It was really a composite of feelings experienced
over some ten miles of watching. In this painting, the metamorphosis
of clouds across an expansive, panoramic space, and their headlong rush
toward the spectator establishes a rhythm of forms and intervals that
finds a parallel with music, and, in particular, an orchestral composition.
Hardy, who often paints to classical music, will at times allow music
to influence the direction of a painting. In response to a suggestion
of late Beethoven as a musical analogy for his paintings, Hardy preferred
Johann Sebastian Bach whose work, in its abstract quality, is as contemporary
today as it was when it was composed. To the left and right edges of
Storm Near Marengo are subtle vertical forms suggestive of curtains
drawn back, revealing perhaps a Wagnerian stage set. The dynamism of
light and colour enters into a paradoxical relationship with a heavily
impastoed paint surface, achieved through an extended period of work
encompassing several years. In the act of forming, covering up, and
remaking, an archetypal object is created whose physical presence, very
much resembling a wall, embodies an elemental spirituality.
In the tension between abstraction and representation present in these
works, Quietly an Evening Storm, situates itself clearly within modernist
abstraction. Its tiered structure of elemental forms and strongly resonating
colour draws inescapable comparison with Mark Rottiko's late 1940s paintings,
but its register of representation is drawn more towards naturalism.
It is a perceptual balancing act; the recognition of landscape elements
is met by an awareness of pictoral structure and movement of paint as
physical substance. Stopped before the edge by bracketing forms, the
deep blue sky, transfiguring clouds, and variegated ground are objectified,
becoming symbols of transcendent experience. The process leading to
the realization of Quietly An Evening Storm was twice removed; it began
as a drawing, then a small painting, and finally the large painting.
Memory becomes the arbiter in the simultaneous desire to represent what
was there, and to convey what it felt like to be there. Waterfall is
an edgy painting that, although devoid of specific references to human
impact on the natural environment, nevertheless depicts a beautiful
yet fragile landscape. Reticent to tell stories that may assume too
much importance to the viewer, Hardy recounts that while experiencing
this Newfoundland landscape of small pine trees backed by a rugged hillside,
he could hear shots of moose hunters hidden from view just over the
horizon. Waterfall has a Spanish quality about it; it's earthy harmonies
and fugitive forms evoke fundamental concerns about the human condition.
Balancing the landforms is a canopy of crystalline blue with a surface
so infused with content that the term elegy seems entirely appropriate.
In his attention to the cycles of birth, death, and regeneration in
a forest Hardy finds a correspondence with the oeuvre of two Saskatchewan
artists of an earlier generation, Ernest Lindner and Leslie Saunders.
Forest Floor images a magical world deep within the forest. It embodies
elements of both tragedy and transcendence. The experience that led
ultimately to this work was during a canoe trip and the urgent need
to take shelter in the face of a storm. The painting has both a decided
physical presence, related to the substance and texture of growing and
decaying fir trees, as well as a fugitive aspect of light that makes,
of the spongy moss and lichen covered forest floor, a shifting atmosphere
of images not unlike that of reflections in a pond. A young sapling
at center right, with its emblematic form joins with Ernest Lindner's
forest theme of transformation. Hardy's intuitive painting process of
layering paint, putting on and covering up over an extended period,
is, of itself, a metaphor for revelation.
A special place exists for Hardy, not far from his country acreage,
a short distance east of Saskatoon. It is a secluded, quiet place not
usually visited by others. A small pond enclosed by a stand of trees
is for Hardy what the garden lily pond was for Monet, a subject so embued
with meaning that it becomes a site of veneration; the journey to it,
however short, is like a pilgrimage. Sun over Pond: Smoke Haze depicts
this site, shrouded by smoke-filled air. The effect of this painting
is one of considerable subtlety; no small achievement when one considers
the underpinnings of strident colour that coalesces at the painting's
edge. Its veiled presence provides it with an ambiguous space and time,
neither being firmly rooted in the present or the past. Its delicate
beauty stands as an homage to the essential elements of landscape-earth,
sky, and water.
Gregory Hardy's paintings materialize out of a process that begins
with his physical presence in the landscape, the notation of certain
visual cues through drawings, and finally the painting process where
memories and material construct an equivalence for the original experience.
They depend, for their effectiveness, on the ability of the painted
mark to access remembered experience in an intuitive manner that engages
both mind and spirit. Stroke by stroke, layer upon layer, they construct
their own history through a process of emergence and obscurity. The
viewer's entrance through and into the interior space of Hardy's paintings
parallels that of the artist's journey; his desire to find, in the temporal,
an entrance to the spiritual.
George Moppett
Mendel
Art Gallery, Saskatoon
click here for images from
this exhibition