Obstacles I have overcome – being a perfectionist

©Stuart Bush, He has never been in love, he doesn’t even know what love is, gouache on cartridge paper, 43 x 24 cm – £200 + shipping enquire

One of the lessons and obstacles I have learnt to deal with is being a perfectionist. Over the years I have visited many galleries and museums and enjoyed looking at other artists work. I use to look at other artists work and compare my work to theirs. But l now realise that looking at other artists work and comparing mine to theirs is counterproductive.

Instead of being helpful the visits made me focus on my insecurities as an artist. I would ask myself; Am l talented? Is my work good enough? And, what if no-one likes my work? I was creating an impossible mindset to overcome. These thoughts were very destructive. However, I slowly came to realise I need to accept what I do and who I am by making my studio free of judgement.

Self-judgement is a learned behaviour that comes from living in our type of society. By comparing my work to someone else’s, I not only noticed that my work was not perfect, by someone else’s standards, I observed that l had changed my standards. These thoughts made me confused as to who I was making the work for; an audience or myself.

By thinking my work was not good enough against someone else’s standards, it was impossible to be playful and enjoy what I was doing. Without the freedom to play and take risks, my work had become stifled and dull.

To be an artist, I realised I need a lot of self-belief. I needed to bring excellence to every I do. By measuring myself against myself, rather than against others l came to realise that art is not like sport, it is not competitive; it is subjective. I needed to reassess what I see as good enough.

I now know that when I go to a gallery, it is useful to compare my thoughts and processes to other artist’s and their work but not their output. I realised that if I wanted to make successful artwork, I had to find a way through experimentation, trying things out and playing to improve what I have already created. Once I realised this, I was able to show up at the studio with a different intent. An intent to be present in the task and make better work than I did yesterday. From that point on I couldn’t help feeling good about my output and about myself.

 
Please read the related post – ‘Making better work than I did yesterday.’

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Understanding the qualities of colour

©Stuart Bush, The Kingdom (2009) oil on canvas 150 x85 cm
It is amusing to me to remember how naive I was when I finished art school. I expected to be a finished article, ready to be able to take on the world. However, I slowly realised I had a lot to learn to be a successful artist. All I really had in place at this point were a couple of foundations. I had learned to resolve problems through experimenting and by researching.
 
I can remember trying to make a particular grass coloured green that would work well with other colours on a painting. It was very frustrating working on a painting and being pleased with the results and then completely spoiling the painting with the wrong colour; in this case, green.  I mixed cobalt blue with cadmium lemon.  Instead of arriving at the right mix, I had a dullish green mix on my palette, once applied, it destroyed my painting.
 
I was already aware that complementary colours such as red, purple, blue, green, yellow and orange, create the colours around the colour wheel, these complementary colours can bring out the inherent characteristics of each other.  But when it came to improving the colour harmony in my paintings I need to build on my knowledge. 
 
I researched and read about the differences between student and artist quality oil paints and their depth of colour. I realise to lift my paintings to be true, vibrant and durable I needed to spend more on my materials. The outcome of this was that I stopped using student quality paints.  I researched the classic palettes that artists have used for centuries and filled in the gaps in my selection of paints. I acquired the classic palette with artist quality paints. Titanium white, cadmium yellow, cadmium red, ultramarine blue, yellow ochre, raw umber, burnt umber, burnt sienna, venetian red, indian red and ivory black.
 
I realised I needed to experiment with colours to see their real characteristics and this can’t be carried out while the paint is still in the tube.  Not only do I need to be able to see the colours; I need to know what proportions to mix them in to give the shade, tone and hue I require.  
 
Colour swatch – blue and white
 
To resolve the problem, I spent a few hours creating colour swatches for my studio wall.  My first task was to make a value scale of cobalt blue with titanium white.  By varying the saturation of colour, I created a tonal value of one to seven.  One being the lightest and seven being the darkest.  I extended this with other blues to see their tones and shades.
 
Through this simple task, I was able to understand the attributes and the properties of the colour.  I completed this for all my colours.  It enabled me to make a better selection and create a more harmonious colour scheme in my paintings; well almost…
 
I soon realised that I was now able to choose the right colour in a tube but what if I needed to mix paint to get make a particular colour.  After all, there are millions of colours and in my classic palette there are only nine colours, plus black and white. I set about making colour swatches with all my blues individually mixed with all my yellows in value scales, so at least I could start with an understanding of green. 
Blue and green coloured swatch
I expanded this further with other colours. With this simple guide of colour swatches, I resolved many of the problems I had been facing.  I realised the only way to make some colours, like a deep violet, I would need to purchase that colour separately. By carrying out the task of creating colour tests swatches, it has helped me to remember colours a lot better.  
 
I had solved the problem through research and experimenting to get a better understanding and knowledge of my palette and the colours that were possible.  This has made the process of choosing the right colours to mix together a lot easier.  It certainly helps to make me feel more confident and decisive when using colour to invoke the physical, physiological and psychological responses I am looking for in my paintings.

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What is success to me?

©Stuart Bush, A section of ourselves as a commodified object, oil on aluminium panel, 80 x 120cm
©Stuart Bush, A section of ourselves as a commodified object, oil on aluminum panel, 80 x 120cm

The question, ‘What is success to me?’ has made me think a lot about why I have chosen to be an artist and what I want to achieve.  Every artist has a different view of success, and what it means to them. Success may include; enjoying the process, the blood, sweat and tears invested in the work, attainment of exhibition space, residencies, peer recognition or column inches and often it can be seen as material and personal gain.  However you are putting a lot of pressure on yourself if your measure of success is to have all of this.

There are a lot of artists out there in the world and many of them are striving to achieve all of it.  It is hard to put a number on how many people achieve success but becoming a household name like Jeff Koons or Damien Hurst is highly unlikely. If you don’t reach this ambition you need to be able to deal with the disappointment; as many artists are struggling to make a living.
 
Understandably many artists give up on the way as they try to reach that kind of success after realising how hard it is. I believe if you’re making art to be rich and famous you are making it for the wrong reasons. If that is the reason why you want to be an artist, then you should do something else.
 
One way of looking at success is; rather than seeing it as material or personal gain; is to love what you are doing. Enjoy the journey and the effort you put in, then when you to go the studio and are creative, you are already complete. By doing the best for yourself, you will always succeed.
 
I have the urge to direct my life in the way I want it to be, and that’s through my art. I realise that this is the area where I have to most control. Many of the other areas of my life are much more of a compromise.
 
I believe that being able to make art full-time will make me happy and content but only if I can provide enough financial support for my family. For me this must come first. I realise serving others and having the people I love around me is an essential ingredient to my happiness. It is undoubtedly more important than money.  Money is just a tool; it isn’t something to strive for as an end in itself.
 
Coach Wooden, the highly successful American basketball player and coach, sees success as; “Peace of mind, attained only through self-satisfaction when knowing you made an effort to do the best you’re capable of.  You’re the only one that knows that.  You can fool others but not yourself.”
 
I try to focus on the present moment and whether I am doing the best work I can with the resources available. By viewing success this way, I can keep a playfulness in my practice. So for me, success does not lay in being rich or famous or in my artwork but my relationship to my artwork.
 
I believe I am capable of so much more and I feel I have hardly started on the path of becoming an artist. By working on what comes naturally, playing off my strengths, using my instincts, observation and curiosity I strive to make my work a manifestation of the best bits of me.
 
I believe I am capable of so much more and I feel I have hardly got started as an artist. By working on what comes naturally, playing off my strengths, using my instincts, observation and curiosity I can make my work a manifestation of the best bits of me.
 
I am looking at the long game and realise that my chance of success improves as my work matures.  After several decades; when most artists have given up;  my prospects are significantly improved. The artist Michael Craig-Martin said, “when you’re 20, there are 50,000 other artists, by the time you’re 30, it’s down to 5,000, by 40, it’s 2,000. If you make it to 70, there are only 12 of you left, and you’re all famous.”
 

The Guardian wrote an interesting article titled ‘Can you make a living as an artist?’ and is worth a read. https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2012/jul/29/artists-day-job-feature?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other

 

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Rose Wylie exhibition review; the benefits of having a independent studio practice

Quack, Quack, 30 November 2017 – 11 February 2018, Serpentine Sackler Gallery.
Queen with Pansies (Dots) 2016 183 × 331, Oil on canvas Courtesy of Private Collection

Rose Wylie was born in 1934 in Kent. She studied in Folkestone and Dover School of Art and at the Royal College of Art. After completing her MA at the age of 47, she started her career and since then has spent most of her time in the art world wilderness. In the last few years however, Rose’s career has taken off, and she is receiving deserved recognition. She has won the Charles Wollaston 2011 and the John Moores 2014 prizes and has her latest show at the Serpentine in the Sackler Gallery.

Rose Wylie’s work is a perfect case study in the importance of creative freedom. The title of the show ‘Quack Quack’ draws attention to her unique down to earth and unpretentious view of the world. In today’s world of the internet where naive first steps are often written about, filmed or photographed; Rose’s paintings are fresh and free from expectations. Her time in the art world wilderness away from a critical audience has allowed her work time to mature. Although Rose has always wanted her work to be accepted, she clearly has made no changes to meet public expectations or dogmas. Now the public has to take her and her work as they find her, trainers and all, and this I found it a refreshing change.

Pink Skater (Will I Win, Will I Win) 2015 208 × 329, Oil on canvas
Courtesy of Private Collection

During the extended period of being unacknowledged, Rose has gained in confidence and learnt to rely on herself. She takes an idea straight from a drawing in her sketchbook, which is a definite extension of her life, and repeats on to the un-stretched canvas. Her actions whether they are rough pencil outlines, or the accidental drips and spills become part of the work. The work is understandably a daily challenge where her surprise enhances the process. If an area becomes bogged down or not to her liking, in a natural, carefree way, she cuts the section out of the canvas and sticks a new piece on top. There is no set of shared doctrines or beliefs. Her thoughts and ideas are distinctly spontaneous and instinctive. I’m sure the make do and mend approach comes from living through World War 2.

When Rose discussed her working practices in a recent BBC podcast, she said, “Working on the floor was less big boy art, big boy art is done on an easel. [Working on the floor] is a nice idea that is close to housework, what women do in a sense. You find yourself clearing things up of the floor, that is what painting is like. It is not work, it is not painting. It is something you do, but it is not painting. I’m not really a painter, as my canvases are not stretched.”

ER & ET 2011
182 × 344, Oil on canvas
Courtesy of Morten Viskum Collection

This plain-spoken and unsentimental approach to making art benefits Rose’s work as she is not overly concerned about the importance of her own personal role. Rose sees things differently and wants to communicate her feeling and sensibilities in a carefree way. She uses all her perceptions, not just her sight. Her paintings are rebellious, instinctual and organic. The process is as simple as one idea comes from another, creating a vibrant visual language with painted text and sketches from art history, tv, sport, magazines and movies.

In today’s art market it is refreshing to see an artist’s work that challenges society’s sensibilities. In comparing her painting processes to housework, Rose highlights how studio processes are just a vehicle to get an idea across. The references and potential narratives in her work aren’t relevant. Rose holds on to what is necessary to her. She allows a concept to exist, to show others how to break down the constraints and to be free.

NK (Syracuse Line-up) 2014 185 × 333, Oil on canvas Courtesy of Private Collection & Black Strap (Eyelashes) 2014 184 × 326, Oil on canvas Courtesy of Private Collection

Her results show the benefits of not fearing disapproval or of offending others. We all have the right to get our interpretations of the world out there. Rose comprehensibly shows that fulfillment in her practice is much more important than fear of achievement. Her work promotes and defends artistic freedom and the freedom of expression.

Little has changed for Rose since her work has started selling, apart from she is unable to work on the floor since her hip replacement and the canvases aren’t stacked to the ceiling anymore. Rose has no constraints; she doesn’t try to anticipate what will come. To me, her work embodies true freedom. She has learnt not to be concerned about what other people think. She allows her work to exist without feeling the need to justify it.

Park Dogs & Air Raid 2017
393 × 331 Oil on canvas
Courtesy of the Artist and David Zwirner, London

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A strategy for getting started in the studio

Stuart Bush, Prep work 2015-6

If you talk to people who procrastinate when in the studio they will often say…
‘First l have to travel to the studio. Then l change my clothes, so l don’t get paint on them. Next l usually choose some music to listen to and make a cup of tea. Somehow, l need to unwind and turn my mind off from all the stuff that’s been happening in the week and focus on being creative. It’s hard getting started.’

However, if you talk to an artist who doesn’t have this problem, they might say, ‘you just pop into the studio and start drawing.’ If you then ask them about the steps involved, they will say, ‘there is just one step, you just get started.

We all have this ability to make some things simple and other things complex. Daily success in the studio can be simple. ‘Just decide what to make before you get there, arrive and get busy. But it doesn’t mean it is easy.

Ernest Hemingway offered this advice to a young writer, “The best way is always to stop when you are going good and when you know what will happen next. If you do that every day when you are writing a novel, you will never be stuck. That is the most valuable thing l can tell you so try to remember it.”

The first thing I am drawn to do when I arrive at the studio is to check my phone. I have personal errands, reading the news, checking my bank account, paying bills, following up on loose ends, researching things of interest on the internet plus personal messaging and social media messages. If I walk through the door and allow myself to have unplanned time, I’m finished for the day before I have even started. All the personal errands need their own block of time on my calendar, later in the day so I first have 3 hours of quality studio time.  If you notice your mind is making things complicated and stopping you from getting started, turn the dial towards simplicity in your mind.

I prepare a simple problem in advance that I can explore or play with when I arrive at the studio so there are no obstacles. I set up a clean sheet of paper and a form of inspiration like a photograph. This is often enough to prevent obstacles. The inspiration needs ideally to be a simple interesting problem to resolve through a quick sketch.

I have found it is important not to be judgemental about the outcome. If it is a mess, I can always do it again. There is no such thing as failures in my studio as I learn from every mistake. I am pleased if I have picked up a pencil I have started, that way it has been successful. Now I’m in the open creative mode it is easy to move on to something more challenging.

Please read my post ‘Productivity in the artist’s studio’ for further reading about how I define my most important two to three tasks before I arrive. 
 

At the end of each day I organise my work with the juicy ideas laid out with your pencil and paints ready for your return, aswell as a quick piece of work to get me started. By leaving my work prepared for the next day, I just arrive at the studio and start working. There is no need to stop and reflect on what to do.

It also means that by preparing what you are going to do, you have the night to ponder it sub-consciously while you are asleep. Thereby allowing new insight to come forward without you having to think about it.

For further ideas about how other artists have developed strategies, I recommend reading the book: ‘Daily Rituals: How artists work by Mason Currey.

Further reading;

Refining my studio time (part 1)

Refining my studio time (part 2)

©Stuart Bush, A section of ourselves as a commodified object, oil on aluminium panel, 80 x 120cm

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The spaces we live and survive in – Rachel Whiteread at Tate Britain (12 September 2017 – 21 January 2018)

Rachel Whiteread was born in 1963 and grew up in London.  After studying painting at Brighton Polytechnic she enrolled on a sculpture masters at Slade School of Art.  Rachel takes casts of familiar objects like hot water bottles and furniture. She uses the traditional casting processes of plaster, resin, rubber and concrete to encourage the viewer to rethink their spatial relationship with everyday forms. In this review of Rachel’s exhibition at the Tate Britain gallery in London, I’m interested in exploring what it is that is so intriguing about Rachel’s exploration of space and what I can learn from her approach to making art.

 

Rachel Whiteread, Untitled (Room 101) 2003 © Rachel Whiteread Photo: © Tate

Tate Britain is the home of British art from 1500 to the present day. Rachel’s exhibition at the Tate highlights the role of an artist in society. Throughout her practice, Rachel has taken previously overlooked subjects and turned them into an intriguing and insightful exchange of thoughts. The large room is full of sculptures of various sizes from throughout Rachel’s career.  The raw appearance of the casts creates a distinct visual impact. My first thoughts are of shared histories in similar spaces. Her work made me think about memories of daily struggles and human connections. Her artwork is simple; but at the same time complex. The culminating feeling is one of surprise; of where beauty can be found.

Rachel was first nominated for the Turner Prize in 1991.  In 1993, she became the first female to win the Turner Prize. This was the same year as her ambitious public project ‘House’ in Bow in East London.  The project was centred around a Victorian, terraced house.  Rachel created a concrete cast of the inside of the house before it was demolished, once the inside of the building was cast in concrete, the exterior was removed. The outcome was that Rachel had coagulated the air of the original house. This project lead to Rachel gaining international attention. The cast of the inside of the project in ‘House’ stood for 80 days.

Rachel Whiteread House, 1993© Rachel Whiteread Photo: Courtesy of the artist

Rachel seeks to make the space that we are familiar with. Post war furniture is immortalised in ‘Closet 1998’, along with her memories.  As a child Rachel was locked in her grandmas wardrobe by one of her sisters.   In Closet 1998 she succeeds in visually recreating these memories but it is not just the darkness of those memories that are recreated but also the sense of palpable fear that the total blackness invoked.

To understand what Rachel was trying to achieve with her sculptures, she wrote, “I want to mummify the space” about ‘Ghost’ (1990). Domestic space and empty quality of space as subject has previously been overlooked by the visual artist. Rachel however, found a way to focus on this one thing that enables everything else to exist. Her work stands out. Space isn’t normally given the opportunity to do this. Her work asks what is the essence of this space?  Without confirming or denying anything she allows the audience to think it through.  The result is portal to contemplation.

 

Rachel Whiteread Untitled (Pink Torso) 1995 © Rachel Whiteread Photo: © Tate (Seraphina Neville and Mark Heathcote)

When I looked at Rachel’s work across the room in the Tate gallery, I wondered if she felt unbalanced and deprived by her relationship to life in general, and if her work comes from need to communicate this. In the age of information overload Rachel’s work is like an antidote and yearning for order and peacefulness.  The sculptures are silent and serene. That stillness and harmony allows our minds space to think and mull things over. As Wilhelm Worringer put it in his essay Abstraction and Empathy, in our lives we have an “immense need tranquillity.”  To me Rachel’s artworks feels like spaces for existential understanding as we reconsider the material world we live.

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About my blog

I started my blog in 2016 as a result of wanting to write for myself. I put my thoughts, ideas and what I learned as an artist down into words. The fortnightly goal of writing has helped me develop a better understanding why I feel the need to make art and process the world. I am writing about this mysterious thing inside me. I am discovering who I am and this is leading me to grow as an artist.

The intention is to create a regular and fresh content. Enhancing my online presence and finding an audience and evoking a conversation about what I do.

The blog has helped me learn to keep my writing simple, improving my clarity and persuasiontherebyenhancing my skills as a writer. When I review another artist’s work, I write to discuss my influences. I seek to communicate what their work means to me and my sensibilities. I do further in-depth learning about a great many subjects that influence my art process and informing my unique perspective. The whole method of communicating my thoughts and ideas is a gratifying experience. I am proud of the results; I hope you enjoy the posts. Thank you for reading.

Dreaming about success as an artist

©Stuart Bush, No exit, pen on paper 43 x 61 cm
 
Often when I turn on the shower and step in, I turn on a shower of thoughts. I’m not sure why it happens in the shower, but I think it is a favourable place to be flooded with thoughts and ideas. All you need is a notebook and pencil straight afterwards, just in case the idea is worth saving, stopping them going down the drain.
 
My mind also wanders when I am painting. Over time, I have realised I have become a professional daydreamer, but often this is the wrong time and the wrong place when I’m trying to be productive. I feel the need to gain some self-mastery of my busy creative mind.  
 
I used to think dreaming about the future was my reward for taking on an almost impossible creative challenge. At times, I have imagined having the ideal artist studio, making sublime artwork, relaxing and enjoying the lifestyle of being someone successful. I have learned that happiness will be a reward in the future.  
 
The problem with allowing myself to think about a variety of things other than the task that is in front of me, is that I am not as productive as I need to be to be highly successful. I lose focus on what I am doing and at times I have moments of being completely unproductive. 
 
Since I read Eckhart Tolle book ‘The Power of Now’ where Tolle says, “when your fulfilment and sense of self are no longer dependent on the future outcome, joy flows into whatever you do.” I have become aware that if I am lucky enough to achieve what I want in the future, and get there while being a daydreamer (which I now think is unlikely), I will always be programmed to look to the future for a sense of fulfilment. I realise I am already very fortunate in many ways and I should be enjoying this time of my life. It is the process and journey that is important, not some dream about the future.

Where I am, rather than where I thought I would be

©Stuart Bush in the studio – Nobodies fault detail
I remember what I wanted to be when I set out as a young man. Originally, I wanted to be an architect; when I didn’t get the grades, and that fell through I choose to be a designer.  En route, unintentionally I stumbled onto an art degree; Ba Illustration.  It wasn’t the right course for me, but the good thing about it, was that I learned from it what I didn’t want to do. I didn’t want to be a commercial artist.  This knowledge has helped me throughout my life.
 
In my eyes, a commercial artist is held to a brief.  There is an element of freedom but only as long as it fits the project brief.  During the course I found myself simplifying as many project outlines as possible to have more freedom. I didn’t like predicting what work I was going to make. I felt the strong urge to have freedom and be in control of my creative and artistic output.
 
When I became aware of this I began to question whether I should continue on the Illustration course. I wasn’t happy and felt I needed a complete change.  I went to the office of the University of Wolverhampton and announced I wanted to leave the university and change courses.  I was unprepared for the response.  I was given one night to decide whether I would accept a transfer to Illinois State University near Chicago.
 
At the time it was a difficult decision.  It was a long night talking to my family and thinking things through. The next day I went in, I said yes.  It was a life-changing decision and experience.  My time in America wasn’t always easy, but nothing of value ever is.  I developed in so many ways, especially by learning what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.  Through taking studio classes in painting, drawing, and photography I realised I wanted to be a painter.
 
Over the next couple of years, I had to figure out how I was going to make a living.  I thought it was impossible as a painter.  I concluded that if I could choose a job where I would always paint, I could be happy.  I know that I wanted to be with someone to share my life and have children.  I wanted the usual things like owning a house, a car and to be comfortable while continuing to be an artist. I figured out where I wanted to be.  So where am I? Is it where I wanted to be?
 
This week I have made an another big decision. I am giving up my studio.  I have rented a studio a few miles from where I live since completing my masters degree in Fine Art in 2006. This wasn’t an easy decision.  Now that I have a house, a car, a good job and someone to spend my life with, I realise I need to think carefully about my long-term future. I need to make running a studio financially sustainable in the long term. By buying a bigger house and converting part of it to have a studio at home will give me more time to paint and I will be able to work towards being more self-sufficient in my retirement.
Half Empty Studio – Packing and moving on
 
So far I have grown up thinking what will make me happy is just ahead of me.   I recognise and acknowledge I am lucky to be able to maintain my passion for creativity for the rest of my life.  I am forty years old next year; most artists have a breakthrough in their careers in their forties.  I am ambitious and want to be successful as an artist beyond making my painting sustainable but I also want to be grateful and happy with what I have achieved.  I want to stop thinking I will be satisfied in the future.  Instead I want to be satisfied and enjoy the present more. I will be soon on to the next chapter in my life. It feels an exciting time.  Hopefully the beginning of something special.  I hope can learn to be content and appreciate what I have already achieved.  I am where I hoped I would be.

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Exploring through making

©Stuart Bush, The Quality of Absence, oil on aluminium panel, 80 x 112 cm

Taking on the history of art and making something new or original is very challenging. Everything seems to have been done before. Picasso said, “good artist copy, great artist steal.” Banksy crossed Picasso’s name out and stole what he said. “The bad artists imitate, the great artists steal.” Pablo Picasso Banksy.

Advertising was stripped and cleansed by Warhole as he took and re-aligned it’s image, colour and details. Pop art mirrored the overload of capitalism by using the tasteless and repetition of consumerism itself. The minimalist through their dislike for capitalism made no attempt to represent the outside, they approached art making differently, by focusing on materials and order, the form of the work became their reality. They accumulated objects and striped them bare. The supermarket stack became a careful composed stack of bricks reflecting the coldness and emptiness. The minimalists, like the pop artists before, wanted to say wake up and smell the coffee, capitalist and consumerist objects are empty and without meaning. No matter how much you buy there is still no hope of transcendence or ascendancy.

I strove to create a dialogue with what came before, Pop art, minimalism and Koons amongst others. However, my work has developed over time, and through setting up my own system of working, my thoughts have moved on. I am no longer focused on creating a dialogue about consumerism even though that’s where I started. My work has deepen and expanded through the process of making. My painting ‘the quality of absence’ allows the viewer to indulge in their own taste and expectations.

I now experiment with and explore a visual grammar. I take shapes and forms with colours and look for the underlining beauty beyond the emptiness of the surface culture. This work is extremely hand crafted with physical man made marks made through painting. By exploring pictorial convention I have developed an interest in the language of space; the space between art and life.

This new work certainly seems to have struck the right note, ‘the quality of absence’ has gone to a new home. The home of one of my customers.

Stuart Bush, The Quality of Absence