This article first appeared as 'Painting offers a multiverse of symbols' in The Press on 21 June 2017.
Underworld 2 was painted in Tony de Lautour's central city studio, a converted office building in pre-quake High Street, Christchurch that he used for a couple of years. The monumental painting was very nearly the same size as the wall on which he painted it.
‘It was the weirdest and most uncomfortable studio I've worked in, all brand new carpet and white walls that I had to cover with plastic, and surrounded by people paying huge rent to sit in those doomed-to-fail small businesses…’
De Lautour started painting in the top left corner, and worked from left to right, down and along, gradually filling in the five-metre-long canvas with what looks like a mind map or a complex diagram of related motifs. A giant flickering screen of digital code, perhaps, in which every line is of equal importance. He used a similarly methodical approach for several works of the time: ‘It seemed more factual to do it like handwriting; it also took away some of the compositional decision-making that can hinder a work.’
One of the largest paintings in Christchurch Art Gallery's collection, Underworld 2 is a vast lexicon—a visual index—of the forms that have populated de Lautour's works over the past 25 years. Lightning bolts, human heads, lions, empty speech bubbles, trees, mountain ranges, cobwebs, stars, smoke plumes, letters, numbers, crucifixes, and dollar signs float freely in black space. De Lautour's multiverse of symbols is drawn from both ends of the visual register, from prison tattoos to modernist abstraction by way of colonial landscapes.
His work has never been linear in its development, instead looping and swirling back and forth, picking up old ideas and deploying them in new contexts, reworking recent concepts in the light of earlier enquiries.
’I tend to paint things to find out what I'm doing,’ he says. ’I have an idea of what I want to do, but I have to paint it to find out what it is, or what it's going to be, whether it's going to work; I work my way through an idea by painting it, which is sometimes good and sometimes bad. I also tend to work it out and then go on to the next thing. Sometimes, you feel like you should stay with something a bit longer. But using those found images, it becomes a bit cyclic anyway. Ideas from 10 years ago come back again.’
Underworld 2 is effectively a stocktake of de Lautour's pictorial inventory, a collection humming with the energies of an immense cultural network.
Underworld 2 is one of the last paintings he produced in this series; recently de Lautour has been painting in a more abstract mode. His interest in early 20th century modernism is revealed in his gigantic outdoor painting on the Gallery's Bunker building on Montreal Street, where he has used the Dazzle shipping camouflage developed by the Vorticist artists in WWI, to ‘hide’ the building in plain sight. Other recent works have explored the relationship between Christchurch's post-quake rezoning maps and the utopian dreams of modernist abstraction.
De Lautour – a New Zealand Arts Laureate – first came to national prominence in the mid-1990s, with an exhibition called Bad White Art. He was part of an extraordinary peer group of artists who graduated from the University of Canterbury's School of Fine Arts within a few years of each other, including Shane Cotton, Peter Robinson, Séraphine Pick and Saskia Leek. Underworld 2 is featured prominently in the Gallery's current exhibition, Your Hotel Brain, which brings together major works from the collection by this generation of artists.
Underworld 2 was painted in Tony de Lautour’s central city studio, a converted office building in pre-quake Christchurch. It was very nearly the same size as the wall on which he painted it. “It was the weirdest and most uncomfortable studio I’ve worked in, all brand new carpet and white walls that I had to cover with plastic, and surrounded by people paying huge rent to sit in those doomed-to-fail small businesses.”
De Lautour started painting in the top left corner of the canvas, and worked from left to right, down and along, gradually filling in the canvas with what looks like a mind map or a complex diagram of related forms. A giant flickering screen of digital code, perhaps, in which every line is of equal importance. He used a similar approach for several works of the time: “It seemed more factual to do it like handwriting. It also took away some of the compositional decision-making that can hinder a work.”
One of the largest paintings in the Gallery’s collection, Underworld 2 is a vast lexicon—a visual index—of the forms that have populated de Lautour’s works over the past twenty-five years. Lightning bolts, human heads, lions, empty speech bubbles, trees, mountain ranges, cobwebs, stars, smoke plumes, letters, numbers, crucifixes and dollar signs float freely in black space, a universe of symbols drawn from both ends of the visual register—from home-made tattoos to modernist abstraction by way of colonial landscapes.
De Lautour’s work has never been linear in its development, instead looping and swirling back and forth, picking up old ideas and deploying them in new contexts, reworking recent concepts in the light of earlier enquiries. Underworld 2 is like a stocktake of his pictorial inventory, humming with the energies of an immense cultural network. (Your Hotel Brain 13 May 2017 - 8 July 2018)
When we asked Tony de Lautour to produce a new work for the Bunker—the name Gallery staff give to the small, square elevator building at the front of the forecourt on Montreal Street—he proposed a paint scheme inspired by Dazzle camouflage. Associated with the geometric near-abstraction of the vorticist movement, Dazzle was developed by British and American artists during the First World War to disguise shipping. It was a monumental form of camouflage that aimed not to hide the ship but to break up its mass visually and confuse enemies about its speed and direction. In a time before radar and sonar were developed, Dazzle was designed to disorientate German U-boat commanders looking through their periscopes, and protect the merchant fleets.
Senior curator Lara Strongman spoke with Tony de Lautour in late January 2016.
A miscellany of observable illustrations
Romantic notions of gothic leanings, the legacy of Tony Fomison, devotion to rock sub-genres and an eye to the past are familiar and sound reasons to group Tony de Lautour, Jason Greig and Bill Hammond together in one exhibition, but De Lautour / Greig / Hammond is to feature new and recent work. Could all this change? What nuances will be developed or abandoned? Will rich veins be further mined? We can only speculate and accept that even the artists concerned can't answer these questions. For the artist, every work is a new endeavour, a new beginning. What may appear to the public, the critic or the art historian as a smooth, seamless flow of images is for them an unpredictable process where the only boundaries are those that they choose to invent.
In the early 1990s, Julia Morison used gold and shit in many works, exploring the idealised and base elements of human experience. She drew on the Jewish Sefiroth as a model for thinking about the relationship between the physical and the metaphysical. “Personally, I need to put some kind of order on experience for sake of sanity and negotiation,” she said. “The Sefirothic structure, or Tree of Knowledge, is really a metaphorical file and folder system for all; a conceptual paradigm for understanding everything. Putting that at the core of my practice gives me the freedom to admit everything and anything, micro and macro, metaphysical and corporeal, as legitimate content. It also gives me an interface to compose works.”
The title of this work, Dulia, is a Catholic term for worship given to saints and angels. Here Morison has pressed gold and excrement on to handmade paper balls, which are threaded together like the beads of a catholic rosary—an invitation to meditate on the relationship of the sacred and the profane, on a monumental scale.
The London Club
In September 2017, Gallery director Jenny Harper, curator Felicity Milburn and Jo Blair, of the Gallery Foundation’s contracted development services, Brown Bread, went to London, taking a group of supporters who received a very special tour of the city’s art highlights. While there, they further developed the Foundation’s new London Club. Recently they sat down together in Jenny’s office…
The new 6pm timeslot for the Friends Speaker of the Month series is proving popular, and it has been great to see so many of you coming out to hear from our fantastic speakers.
The new year started with the Friends’ fantastic summer trip, visiting exhibitions at two of Canterbury’s regional art galleries.
As we approach the first anniversary of the reopening of the Gallery, it seems like a good time to celebrate a year’s progress in the life of the city.
This quarter the Gallery will reopen. It has been a long time coming by anyone’s standard. Although we have maintained connections through the award-winning Outer Spaces programme and nomadic, trailed around temporary gallery spaces; being able to once more step into the Gallery’s own space is an exciting prospect. I am not alone in looking forward to having the Gallery back in its rightful setting and reacquainting ourselves with the fabulous art we collectively own.
Volunteer guide Rod McKay talks about his life, being an art tourist, and guiding Gallery tours.