Landscapes – Poetry – Narratives

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A cinema director gave me a collection of old posters. I painted large landscapes on the backs of them, working within two constraints: an unusually vertical format and a glossy paper surface that allowed neither impasto nor reworking. I had to paint quickly, let the brush glide across the surface, and capture a landscape as one might capture a dream.

These five landscapes continue the tradition of imaginary landscapes in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century painting. They are dreamlike landscapes, haunted by the myth of Icarus — his flight and his fall.

A woman walks along a path. She enters the painting. Sometimes she waves to passengers in a boat. She is both figure and painter, inhabitant and creator of these imaginary places.

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My landscapes are Arcadias.

Arcadia is not a place to be described, but a space of painting and memory. A place where images, stories and the painters who accompany me meet. A space where painting continues its dialogue with itself.

I am not asking these landscapes to be interpreted. I am asking the viewer to enter them, and to let the eye wander through them.