Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Related Stories ...

National Features >

  • Houston Press

    Hate to Say We Told You So

    A year before Toyota's massive recall, we published a lengthy investigation of problems with the Prius.

    By Paul Knight

  • Miami New Times

    Sex, Drugs, Gambling--and Football

    Heading to Miami for the Super Bowl? Don't leave the hotel without our guide to vice in the Magic City.

    By Michael J. Mooney and Gus Garcia-Roberts

  • City Pages

    Life in the Blue Zone

    Daredevil Dan Buettner's latest trick? Bringing the secrets of immortality to Minnesota.

    By Erin Carlyle

  • Phoenix New Times

    The Greatest Dane

    Bigger than Shaq and proud of it, the world's tallest dog may be living in Tucson.

    By James King

Warren Greene's deceptively simple paintings reward patient attention

Share

  • rss

By Maria Browning

Published on November 18, 2009 at 10:19am

Be prepared to take your time when visiting Dermabrasion, an exhibit of paintings by Austin Peay State University assistant art professor Warren Greene at the school's Trahern Gallery. It's not a particularly large show, but its 18 abstract panels reward thoughtful, patient examination. Greene's work contains no narrative or obvious figurative elements, which might tempt viewers to assume that their first-glance response captures all that the art has to offer. A lingering look, however, reveals that the paintings in Dermabrasion are rich, multifaceted creations, each one capable of evoking a range of associations and sensory responses.

Greene utilizes a technique suggested by the show's title in which paint is laid on wood panels, then selectively removed or manipulated, usually by sanding. This is done with sufficient subtlety that on first glance, some of the paintings seem to be exercises in minimalism, but that impression is misleading. Intricate details emerge as each work is examined from a variety of distances and perspectives. Those details create a sense of the "action" of the paintings. As Greene describes it in his artist's statement, the layered and scraped surfaces "form a kind of corpus, composed of sometimes translucent and other times opaque skins that sometimes hide and other times reveal."

The suggestion of something that is hidden or revealed is clearly at work in "Searching for P. Glass," a large panel on which a field of varied gray tones appears to lie behind lighter horizontal lines. The lines obscure a suggestion of shadowy movement in the background, creating a sense of something mysterious and ominous blocked from view. Another piece titled "Fencing," which utilizes the same gray tones, is composed of vertically oriented rectangles, stacked into rows. Here again, the viewer has a sense of something beyond the visible surface, though in this case the mystery is hidden completely.

Greene does not employ identifiable figures in any of the pieces, yet he is remarkably successful at nudging the viewer toward a particular concept or sensation. "Stream" consists of blue shapes on a pale background. There's no clear representation of a stream, but the image gives an immediate impression of cool and fluid movement. The scattered collection of blue patches evokes the idea of water in the viewer's brain, though the eye can't quite find a clear justification for that mental leap. Likewise, "Winter on the Beach," a blue painting with pale, irregularly shaped horizontal elements, inspires an immediate feeling of something frozen and vast.

Several of the paintings are paired with a sister work that is a variation on the same compositional theme. "Analogue I" is a field of golden yellow covered by a delicate veil of black lines. A close look reveals that the lines consist of fine stippling, creating an effect that suggests snakeskin or the veining on a leaf. Patches of the black veil are smudged away in a random pattern, and more yellow paint is laid over the bare spots. This creates an impression of gentle disruption, as if there were some natural process happening—possibly a flowering of new life, possibly decay.

"Analogue II" is composed with the same process, using warm pink as the base color. Curiously, this painting feels much less dynamic, lacking the organic energy of its partner. Even when examining the two pieces side by side, it's not clear precisely what creates the different effect. Is it the richer color of the second work that gives it a heavier, more grounded quality? Is it the greater regularity in the pattern of rubbed patches, which makes them seem like something bounded by the artist's intention, rather than an unplanned expression of nature? Does "Analogue I" touch on some specific association of which the viewer is unconscious, thus sparking a sense of greater vibrancy?

Engaging such questions is essential to fully appreciate Greene's paintings. They convey little meaning of their own. The viewer creates their meaning, first by getting to know each painting as a complex object, and then through an awareness of his or her own interior response. That response might contain a kernel of narrative, such as the intrigue inspired by "Searching for P. Glass," but it can also be the more pure sensory engagement offered by the "Analogue" paintings. Greene's "skins" offer fresh mysteries and revelations to each observer who takes the time to discover them.

Email arts@nashvillescene.com.