Sean Scully abstracts humanity through pure paint
I strongly believe that the experience of visiting an exhibition should be art, and not only because of the works of art themselves but because of the moment itself.
And sometimes art lies in the unexpected, the improvised. That is what happened when I first visited an exhibition at the Timothy Taylor gallery, located in the middle of Mayfair (not far from the Marc Jacobs store, for the fashionistas reading).
In my exploration of lesser-known galleries, my curiosity and an irrepressible habit of ending in strange places, I stumbled upon an open door one evening as I was walking back home.
The gallery was completely empty, and about to close 15 minutes later, and it happened to be the last day – therefore the last 15 minutes – of the current exhibition, which had actually been prolonged for one day. Fate, I thought.
I witnessed impressive Rothko-esque stripes and chromatic plays on large-scale pieces of wood, assembled together to create a disconcerting perspective, all from artist Sean Scully.
A selection from his work from the 80’s displayed metaphorical abstraction and the best shades of navy and chocolate I have seen in a long time – these colours matching so perfectly they almost make me wish for Autumn for a Marni-Scully-inspired wardrobe.
I loved the idea that Scully used ordinary house painting paintbrushes to create impurity – or rather to reveal the ‘humanity of imperfection’.
A great discovery, and an artist whose work is worth exploring.
Review of the current Ventriloquist exhibition at the Timothy Taylor Gallery next post, but Ventriloquist is only on until the end of the week, so hurry up. Credit pictures: Timothy Taylor Gallery.