Rachael Adams paintings are impressions, fragments of memories, bits of stories, through which we’re asked to consider the social and class conventions of the people within her pictures. She is particularly concerned with isolation, her pictures representing that space at which the political and personal meet, when absence and isolation make themselves known. Why? Who knows? She leaves it up to us to figure out, to question ourselves, the norms we are conditioned to inhabit; the ambiguous state of transition between the social, political and personal.
These are personal works, her titles suggest fond memories of childhood, the people that populate her compositions look like they’ve stepped out of a family photo album but the landscapes in which they live and play look vaguely sinister, ready to claw, grab everyone away. To a dark place. A lonely place. Of isolation.
Here’s what she has to say about painting:
Each picture I look at, each figurative painting I study, every scene that absorbs me – I’m aware that a certain invention of story occurs. It happens automatically in my head. I wonder who the people might be, or ponder what’s happening… a glimpse, or glance at a picture will give me a sense of the time, or the place, and introduce a mood. I’m not aware of studying composition, or of light: the structure and the form I take as read – immediately absorbed and not worthy of comment (it’s obvious, so no need to be stated), but the flavours of time and place and the veil of drama – they’re the things I observe, savour and pore over. As the viewer I attempt to make sense by conjuring up the story.
And if you want to see an artists website with a difference you should check out hers – its fun and bold and full of personality.
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