A close-up view of the imagined supernova remnant finger painting 1: please see other post for further details on this painting. Someone I showed in person recently (on my phone) recently mentioned a potential issue about the floating circle cutting off or cropping the edges of the painting a little bit too much; I can see a potential issue for this, especially with the nebulous paintings but at the same time, my explorations also inspire me to shift the visual concept to mean more than just a “telescope aperture frame.” This particular comment brings to mind that our experience of reality and view of the universe is indeed very restricted and confined to a narrow “pinhole” experience of what there is, highly filtered by our limited human senses and consciousness; this is the “darker matter” to which the dark frame may also point, preventing us from seeing “the full picture.” Also, what cannot be seen in a photograph, is that the peripheral parts of the painting come into view a little more as you move from side to side, due to the raised floating frame, perhaps commenting on the value of curiosity to peer around the edges of what is obvious and apparent; I can potentially increase this depth as there is room to make it even more “floaty” but I need to watch the drop shadow as it may not be to everyone’s taste (although my framer likes the drop shadow). This drop shadow disappears in low light, when the paintings “come out” … I also find that the 3D floaty effect that people mention often, is completely lost in a photograph. The idea for this effect is for the frame to become either a telescope or a kind of portal into another world. So, the frame is not just something decorative to put the painting in here, often being an essential part of the visual concept within the work and more than just something to help set it off; this is even more true of the works that are inspired from time spent at the telescope, I hope to develop more… The frame has another potential meaning here too: That the meaning of what is experienced, is also framed by the mind experiencing it and, in accordance with this, I have started placing the titles on the backs of my paintings rather than the front, so as not to impose meaning; in other cases, as mentioned by a friend who bought an exoplanet painting I made, he felt like he was seeing the painting “through the telescope of the text” which shows an interesting fluidity in the way I can try to play with either naming or leaving things untitled. Of course, for some things, the only answer is to go bigger and to lose the circle completely, but this is just a little idea on the side that it could potentially symbolise. I would like to go bigger and do things in various different ways of course but the main reason why I do a lot of small paintings is due to the small size of my home studio, meaning I have to work large sparingly for matters of easy storage – and it is also because I am on a very low budget and these circular frames soon mount up when ordering them in batches, particularly if I increase the size. So I either have to work small or spread things out a bit more when featuring this presentation s
I am an emerging artist based in the Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire, in the United Kingdom. I produce landscape paintings from a home studio, primarily in acrylics but also occasionally in oils and watercolours as well. My interest to begin producing paintings on the subject of astronomy in the last several years has partially arisen from a father-son interest going back to my early years; as a teenager, my father would treat me to views of the planets, such as Mars, Jupiter and Saturn through his telescope, as well as the Ring Nebula and Andromeda galaxy. However, once I left college to study in Fine Art at Southampton Solent University, student life soon took over and my adolescent enthusiasm for astronomy took a back seat. For at least three years, longer in fact, I all but forgot that the night sky existed and seldom ever looked up; my entire universe shrank down to university life and even the Moon became a stale and distant concept lurking somewhere in the back of my head. The stars and celestial bodies of our Solar System arced across the great firmament above, rolling around the dark dome of the night sky for more than a thousand daily cycles, just out of sight and mind… A few years after I graduated in 2006 and during my five year artist residency at the Arches Studios in Southampton, a friend contacted me one day with great enthusiasm, to tell me all about an exciting new BBC television series called “Wonders of the Solar System” with Professor Brian Cox. Many things I forgot I learned about as a boy came bubbling back to the surface. As my interest was rekindled, it crept into my artwork and paved the way for everything that would follow and everything yet to come; in the space of a few years, robotic space exploration seemed to be exploding in a way that I had not really experienced when I was younger. Never before in my life has this sense of wonder and fascination been elevated to such heights as it is right now; I am convinced that I could not have chosen a better time to begin to engage in this subject. To coincide with this feeling, I have now discovered a whole movement in space and astronomical art that I previously had no awareness of and which is perfectly appropriate to my new direction in landscape painting; this is all thanks to an announcement made at my local astronomy club about an exhibition of space art at the Wells & Mendip Museum in Somerset in 2017, which I attended. It answers my calling and shows me an avenue through which I can begin to creatively channel my interest in the exploration of the universe. I now join the IAAA to seek guidance on how I can learn more about astronomical art in general and to seek feedback on my work to explore ways in which I can develop ideas and visual concepts, for which the IAAA is uniquely suited. Finding out about this association, the only one of its kind, is an extremely fortuitous turn of fate I could never have hoped for or anticipated in a billion years. The universe has opened a valuable opportunity, for which I cannot be grateful enough. My aim is to use the ideas I develop through my paintings, with the support of the IAAA, to invigorate my objective, which is to share the wonder and fascination of the cosmos with other like minded people and to help breathe the presence of astronomy into local art exhibitions in the Forest of Dean, where there is usually none to be seen. In this way my goal is to help inspire more people in my locality to take a greater interest in the exploration and wonder of the universe in which we live and, in art inspired by our final frontier… Go to the artist's portfolio
This artwork is copyright © Roger Jarvis. All rights reserved.