Pamela Reynolds brings light and color into the world in On the Bright Side, her November 2019 show at Touchstone Gallery. The acrylic abstracts contrast linear patterns with drips, splatters and pours. The paintings express joy and jubilance as a counterpoint to so much of the darkness felt today. In this interview she talks about her influences and her ideas.
Tell me about your journey as an artist. When did you know you were an artist? Were you always an artist, or did you come to art later in life?
Art has been a long-held interest of mine. As a child, I drew a lot and I really enjoyed the still life and drawing classes I took as far back as elementary school. By high school, I was still enrolled in art classes and one of my art teachers suggested I pursue an art degree at the university. However, I’m a practical person and thought I would opt for a degree that might still allow me the chance at affording regular meals! So, I did not pursue art as a “career” and got a degree in journalism instead. Even while I was working as a feature writer at The Boston Globe, I still took watercolor and drawing classes in my free time. For a while, I even went to a four-day work-week and took classes at The Art Institute of Boston because I was considering moving into graphic design. Eventually, after about 13 years of working at the Globe, I quit and moved to Italy. In Sardinia, I finally had all the time in the world to pursue art more seriously. I enrolled in the Accademia di Belle Arti there and that began a whole new phase of my life. I finally had the time to paint daily, immerse myself in art history books and contemporary art magazines and visit shows. For anyone interested in all the details of my story, I’ve just written a book “Revamp: A Memoir of Travel and Obsessive Renovation” which will be released January 2020. In the end, I’m glad that I only pursued art more seriously some years after school, as I think art is as much about seeing than doing, and I’ve had more time to do that.
Why do you work in acrylics? Why abstraction?
I started off with water-based oils but quickly moved to acrylics. Starting off, I was working out of a home studio and found oils more impractical and messier. Oil paint would somehow end up on the couch. the bed, the coffee table. Plus, I didn’t like having to use dangerous solvents. I also appreciated the faster drying time for acrylics, as I have a tendency toward impatience and often work on numerous paintings at once. Also, there are so many different acrylic mediums out now that it is possible to get all of the slower-drying properties of oil if you really desire them. Plus, there’s a ton of versatility with all the textured gels and mediums.
In terms of “why abstraction,” I have always been pulled toward abstraction over the figurative, although I started off painting figuratively, as most people do. Abstraction allows for a degree of engagement and interpretation that I find to be more exciting than just reproducing a likeness or interpreting some object, landscape or person through paint. It’s a step into the unknown each time you sit before the canvas, and for that reason it can also be quite daunting. Whenever I do anything figurative, there is a certain relief in stepping back into something where the parameters are known, because in abstraction, that’s all up for grabs. There are no “knowns.”
What was the genesis for this show?
In some ways, “On the Bright Side” is a reaction to the work that preceded it, which is the way I tend to work. I get completely bewitched by a form or shape or idea, I follow that out in a series of paintings, and eventually, I move onto something else, or pick up a thread that emerged in that series of paintings. Before this group of paintings, I was doing a series called “Un/Done” which was a “de-structuring” of geometric shapes and lines combined with free-flowing gesture. I was also doing another series called “Color Fragments,” which involved slices of color, combining acrylic and tape, which were also somewhat linear. With “On the Bright Side,” I reacted a bit to what I had done before, focusing on circles and orbs and full-blast, fluorescent colors. The Un/Done paintings were much quieter. This time, I felt like doing something wild and arresting and a little risky. When you see them, you will see elements of the two series that preceded them.
Tell me about your process. What would people find interesting about the way you work?
My process is highly intuitive. Because I also write for a living having to analyze and explain what other people say and do (I currently write on the visual arts for WBUR) I really want to give myself space to paint however or in whatever way I feel drawn to, without explanations. Although I admire art with well-conceived conceptual underpinnings (and it’s much easier to write about!) what really attracts me in art is the formal — color, shapes, forms —that allow a viewer to respond and bring to the painting whatever may lie deep within themselves. It allows for a true dialogue between the painting and the viewer. Art dealing with social and political themes can be provocative and interesting and I enjoy it, but it also comes from a different place relevant to just one period of time. For me, art needs to be a sensual experience that goes deeper than that. Every time you see an abstract painting, you can see something new.
What do you want viewers to take away from the show?
I would want to leave that open to the viewer. My only objective was to occupy myself in an exercise of high-impact color.
What influences you as an artist? How did the experience of living in Italy affect you as an artist?
Certainly, I am influenced by other artists. For this show, I would say I was deeply influenced by Charlene von Heyl who had a recent show at the Hirshhorn entitled “Snake Eyes.” Her paintings are not conventionally beautiful. Some are downright ugly. But they feel so fresh and daring. I also saw Yayoi Kusama in this period and was also influenced by her colorful work. Right now, in general, I seem to take more of my cues from elements that I see around me in the world of art, design and architecture, but there have been periods in which I was influenced by organic forms, landscape and the human body.
The main thing Italy did was to give me the space to appreciate art and in time to become an artist. I think the average Italian has more exposure to art as just an important consideration in life (it’s everywhere, in the buildings and piazzas and design!) and therefore feels more assured, confident and interested in seeing a show, having an opinion and buying art. Italians, in general, seem to be much more daring in their tastes, as they’ve had more exposure. I talk about this in “Revamp.” I wish that art history and art appreciation courses were a standard part of K-12 education in U.S. schools for this reason.
Tell me about a defining moment for you as an artist.
My biggest defining moment was my first painting class in Sardinia, taught by Professor Martelli. He was passionate about art and in inspiring his students. I remember him saying that we, as artists, are so lucky, “we do the work of the gods.”
Why do you create art?
That’s an interesting question. It seems to be just one of my natural impulses. I grew up drawing and writing and I only feel truly myself when I am making something. I guess it’s my way of forging a sense of connection to the world and those around me. I wouldn’t call it “therapy,” or “self-expression,” but more like “sharing.” I sometimes create things that surprise even myself.
What else would you like for people to know?
I think art, or the opportunity for art, is around all of us all the time, and it’s critically important. You don’t have to paint or sculpt to make art. There can be artistry in how you furnish your home, or what you choose to wear, or what you say, or even how you arrange your sock drawer. It’s just another dimension that, once embraced, makes life so much richer and pleasurable. Again, that’s something I touch on in “Revamp.” The last phrase in the book sums it up for me: “My life of traveling, moving, renovating and making art, has taught me so many lessons that stay with me, no matter where I happen to live. One of the most powerful of these is this: It’s up to each of us to make a work of art while we can, not just of our immediate surroundings but of our lives…”
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