Never mind your tortured artist driven by existential angst. Evan Woodruffe’s wall of big abstract tiles on show now at the Paul Nache Gallery is all about exuberance and joy; a panacea for the weltschmerz. The installation that takes up most of a whole wall at the gallery is made
Remain medicated
Subscribe to listen
EXUBERANCE: Artist Evan Woodruffe’s abstract works spill over with joyous, energetic colour. Picture by Thomas Teutenberg
Colour also spills from the panels that make up the wall of what a synaesthete might see as improvised music, and from the framed works hung on it (the wall of colour is, after all, a wall) and into the artist’s clothes. And back again. Woodruffe’s waistcoat is patterned with a print based on a section of the wall; his shirts and ties are multi-coloured.
It’s a two-way flow.
“When I wear out a shirt or it gets too much paint on it, it goes in here,” he says.
“The fabric is going into the painting and coming out of the painting so there’s a nice conversation going on there.”
Seen in real life — as opposed to on screen or on paper — the paintings have a tactility and texture some might feel tempted to lick.
Deep in the background is the influence of the pioneer of abstraction, Russian modernist Wassily Kandinsky, Spanish surrealist/abstract expressionist Joan Miro, and Japanese conceptual artist Yayoi Kusama best known for the fields of polka dots she calls “infinity nets”. Ultimately, Woodruffe’s complex, colourful paintings echo German philosopher and cultural critic Friedrich Nietzsche’s bon mot, “We have art lest we perish from the truth.”
Exuberant, celebratory art is not a matter of denial, of separation from reality, says the artist. Art can be an antidote to the crises we see in the media.
“It helps remind us humanity is also full of moments of joy, beauty, progress. It reminds us of these human qualities that will uplift us and that gives strength to go back and deal with crises. The immediate effect is like music.”
In fact, in an earlier life Woodruffe was a musician with a band called Melon Twister.
“The dynamics of music are something I put into my work.”
Also, dirt. Or at least earth he collects from various sites such as Kaiti Hill. Mixed with binder to make textured paint a little bit of Titirangi is rendered in discs in the wall.
“When I look at art it reminds me of the qualities of our human history,” says Woodruffe.
“That acts as a salve or a balm.”