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Paul Jackson - Paintings

When:

Tue 18 Oct 2016, 11:00am–5:00pm

Where: Orexart, Level 1, 15 Putiki Street, Grey Lynn, Auckland

Restrictions: All Ages

Ticket Information:

  • Admission: Free

Website:

Listed by: Orexart

Paul Jackson - Paintings.

Opening Tuesday 18 October 5pm - 7pm.

With some fifty years as an exhibiting artist, Jackson draws upon his feelings and memories of the country of his birth, his joint Tongan and New Zealand heritage.

In his current show, he expresses admiration for the work of other artists such as Bill Hammond in Hat For Bill. He shows his support of the All Blacks through All Black, Only the Brave. The painting portrays the uniform of the 1905/6 England tour, the wax impregnated yoke, the black sleeves, the silver fern. All of which, along with the black shorts and socks, gave rise to the moniker, ‘All Black’. The face is Polynesian.

In Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep Jackson explores Christian and Maori imagery using New Zealand cultural references; a pounamu cross, a huia feather. But nothing is as it first appears, as in Man in Black Hat the facial marks are fading, the skin disintegrating. Time hasn’t stood still, history overtakes its subjects. The General II and Man With Pipe seem like relics of the past, actors, and yet they are no less staged than any Victorian portrait.

Jackson’s only still life, Red Heart, alludes to the typically green landscape and cultural symbols of pounamu as he harkens back to a pre-European New Zealand.

The artist’s understanding and sympathy for Tangatawhenua is a recurring, though not literal, theme in his work. These are his connectors, his archaeologies, his ways to explore foundations. I Am Priest and Monsignor come from his memory of Fellini’s film Roma. As in the film, there is a sense of unease, an ‘ecclesiastical fashion show’. What is unreal, and what is real?

Jackson isn’t giving us ‘historical portraits’, but there are connections to the past, a past re-imagined, re-constructed. This is subjective narrative, a highly personal vision, like Fellini, Jackson has disguised himself, searching his way between the flesh and the spirit. In Harlequin, the mask is held to one side but held nonetheless. The tui stands, about to sing, about to mimic. The artist in disguise.

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