THE WORD OF GOD

Belonging to every child in Poland, and etched deeply in the minds of every adult here, is something called a book of prayer outlining the dos and don’ts of being a good Catholic! From the Alley of Liberation here in the relatively salubrious Śródmieście district of Warsaw to the ‘grey’ apartment blocks of Huta to the North-West, there’s no getting away from the fact that apposed to the turn of phrase used by the Law and Justice government (who by the way, are trusted about as far as you can chuck a downy white feather), along with the smooth talking, silky tongued mouthpiece of big name branding, (to which Poles give little more than a knowing wink with their firmly sceptical left and right eyes), the ‘word’ of God remains Król..!

Or does it? Something in the mix of style and prose here suggests that the educated use of words alone, and by whom, is the standard by which Poles rate language. We can discount what is peddled by the government and just about anyone or anything else that tries to flog something to the Polish people, on account of ‘corruption’ (the most assured of words here in the ‘ears’ of the population); this, through years of hard lessons learnt and in having a well-developed sense (ogórek kiszony aside) for quality control… And the church itself isn’t getting away lightly either. With falling attendances, especially amongst the young, Poles are turning on mass to other sources of knowledge and enlightenment which were previously forbidden by both state and church. What does remain, however, (and this is unfortunate for a typical English speaker who doesn’t know his adverbs from his nouns, or his case endings from his case beginnings, and is trying desperately to grasp the second most difficult language on the planet) is an absolute faith in language along with a strict adherence to the correctness of syntax! Well, all this in my opinion anyway...

Thing is, this has had me thinking lately just how important the need for words has increasingly become for me. From my continuously abandoned first novel started way back in 1996 (don’t we all have one of those) to the tentative use of the odd word or two placed discretely on the edge of canvases gone by, the need to write the script, or rather pen any type of bull-shit, continues to haunt! As in the lyrics of Bread.., (if anyone can remember who the hell they were), a picture may promise to paint a thousand words.., but in this multi layered world, where art and information live happily pasted together, is it now enough just to offer painting up for show on the basis of little more than craftsmanship or dubious exhibitionism based on ambiguity? For is it not true, True ambiguity is the domain of true thinkers, but often goes unseen as the results of the charlatan aren’t always easy to tell from the labours of the god-dam clever!

In his work ‘Redman’, and other paintings from the same period, fellow artist and good mate Dale Atkinson makes use of the kind of speech balloons to be found in comic book illustration, the beauty being here that what is said is ‘merely’ implied though immense by the absence of words at all - true ambiguity which speaks volumes! Then we have Peter Moore (unfortunately no links), whose copious use of words, phrases, even chapters transcends the merely decorative to become both a cacophony of thought and deed, and an ambiguous palimpsest to his life! Somewhere in-between however may lie the script for me as the current paintings unfold...