Jarik Jongman / Hello, Goodbye
Fri 1st Oct - 7 Nov 2010
Special private view performance by New York Beat poet Patrick Lyons on Fri 1st October 6-9pm.
curated by Chiara Williams & Debra Wilson
NEW WEBSITE: www.jarikjongman.com
Special private view performance by New York Beat poet Patrick Lyons on Fri 1st October 6-9pm.
curated by Chiara Williams & Debra Wilson
NEW WEBSITE: www.jarikjongman.com
Press Release
"Hotly anticipated...he's quite brilliant"
Recent Threadneedle Prize exhibitor and forthcoming Salon Art Prize exhibitor, Dutch-born Jarik Jongman presents his eagerly awaited new work in a solo show at WW Gallery. These impressive paintings, by the former assistant to Anselm Kiefer, radiate hope as well as drama and power. Based on photographs of people long gone, the paintings’ atmosphere and mysterious glimmers of light allude to the transience of existence and create both a sense of the uncanny and feelings of melancholia.
The figures in these works gaze out at the spectator directly from another realm, leaving the viewer with their own thoughts on mortality. The waving characters could be welcoming us, or perhaps their paradise is already lost. Upon entering Jongman’s mesmerizing world, one is left in no doubt that he is truly a new Dutch Master.
"The works of Jarik Jongman are beginning to make serious waves on the contemporary art scene, and rightly so - he's quite brilliant. His solo show at WW Gallery this October and November is hotly anticipated." (Spoonfed)
"Hotly anticipated...he's quite brilliant"
Recent Threadneedle Prize exhibitor and forthcoming Salon Art Prize exhibitor, Dutch-born Jarik Jongman presents his eagerly awaited new work in a solo show at WW Gallery. These impressive paintings, by the former assistant to Anselm Kiefer, radiate hope as well as drama and power. Based on photographs of people long gone, the paintings’ atmosphere and mysterious glimmers of light allude to the transience of existence and create both a sense of the uncanny and feelings of melancholia.
The figures in these works gaze out at the spectator directly from another realm, leaving the viewer with their own thoughts on mortality. The waving characters could be welcoming us, or perhaps their paradise is already lost. Upon entering Jongman’s mesmerizing world, one is left in no doubt that he is truly a new Dutch Master.
"The works of Jarik Jongman are beginning to make serious waves on the contemporary art scene, and rightly so - he's quite brilliant. His solo show at WW Gallery this October and November is hotly anticipated." (Spoonfed)
Accompanying text
“Washed out dynamism, a faded sad melancholy, a darkly violent absence. Something's present, something's missing. Enigmatic loss, something mysterious is happening. The works of Dutch-born contemporary artist Jarik Jongman are beginning to make serious waves on the contemporary art scene, and rightly so - he's quite brilliant. His solo show at WW Gallery this October and November is hotly anticipated” (Tom Jeffreys, Editor, Spoonfed)
Recent Threadneedle Prize exhibitor and forthcoming Salon Art Prize exhibitor, Jarik Jongman presents his eagerly awaited new work in a solo show at WW Gallery. These impressive paintings, by the former assistant to Anselm Kiefer, radiate hope as well as drama and power. Based on photographs of people and places long gone, the paintings' atmosphere and mysterious glimmers of light allude to the transience of existence and create both a sense of the uncanny and feelings of melancholia. Upon entering Jongman's mesmerizing world, one is left in no doubt that he is truly a new Dutch Master.
Would that life were like the shadow cast by a wall or a tree, but it is like the shadow of a bird in flight. (The Talmud)
Building upon themes from Jongman's earlier works, the Hello, Goodbye series contains figures that gaze out at the spectator from another realm, leaving the viewer with their own thoughts on mortality. The waving characters could be welcoming us, or perhaps their paradise is already lost. One painting shows a group of migrant women on the deck of a ship, sailing off into an unknown future. In another, a group of men is waving in the midst of a raging blizzard, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings, as if they no longer belong to this world. Elsewhere a young couple waves from a lush, dark garden. They could all be waving hello or saying goodbye or simply reaching out to us from beyond, from an eternity that exists only when we think of them.
Large, sensuous paintings of pomegranates (Persephone #1 & #2) and a locust (Makkah Arbeh (plague of the locust)) punctuate the darker themes and narratives running through the show and reveal the artist's preoccupations with mythology and spirituality, history and memory, mortality and legacy.
The series El Olvido Que Seremos (the oblivion we shall become) consists of six large paintings developed from photographs taken by the artist in an abandoned house in southern Spain. Everything appeared stage-set as if the people of the house had simply not come home one day. The ‘oblivion' would seem to be epitomised in the image of a dog's skeleton lying down with its collar still on. While the images are haunting, somehow the house has become alive with resplendent vegetation and streams of gold oozing from the windows.
Sunlight also strains through the windows in This world is not my home, which depicts a man in a boat, rowing through the rubble of a dark, dilapidated house. Romantic or mythical allusions to underworld rivers are curtailed by this claustrophobic scene and the man's action is futile, but at least the bright light offers some kind of hope; a redeeming presence.
Despite the apparent bleakness of his images, the overriding sensation one is left with when looking at Jongman's paintings is that every transient moment we live and every brief life that passes, exists within an eternity of possibility for spiritual evolution, magic and hope; hello, goodbye, until we meet again.
“This world is not my home, I'm just passing through.
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.
The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.”
(lines from a bluegrass song, performed by the Stanley Brothers)
“Washed out dynamism, a faded sad melancholy, a darkly violent absence. Something's present, something's missing. Enigmatic loss, something mysterious is happening. The works of Dutch-born contemporary artist Jarik Jongman are beginning to make serious waves on the contemporary art scene, and rightly so - he's quite brilliant. His solo show at WW Gallery this October and November is hotly anticipated” (Tom Jeffreys, Editor, Spoonfed)
Recent Threadneedle Prize exhibitor and forthcoming Salon Art Prize exhibitor, Jarik Jongman presents his eagerly awaited new work in a solo show at WW Gallery. These impressive paintings, by the former assistant to Anselm Kiefer, radiate hope as well as drama and power. Based on photographs of people and places long gone, the paintings' atmosphere and mysterious glimmers of light allude to the transience of existence and create both a sense of the uncanny and feelings of melancholia. Upon entering Jongman's mesmerizing world, one is left in no doubt that he is truly a new Dutch Master.
Would that life were like the shadow cast by a wall or a tree, but it is like the shadow of a bird in flight. (The Talmud)
Building upon themes from Jongman's earlier works, the Hello, Goodbye series contains figures that gaze out at the spectator from another realm, leaving the viewer with their own thoughts on mortality. The waving characters could be welcoming us, or perhaps their paradise is already lost. One painting shows a group of migrant women on the deck of a ship, sailing off into an unknown future. In another, a group of men is waving in the midst of a raging blizzard, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings, as if they no longer belong to this world. Elsewhere a young couple waves from a lush, dark garden. They could all be waving hello or saying goodbye or simply reaching out to us from beyond, from an eternity that exists only when we think of them.
Large, sensuous paintings of pomegranates (Persephone #1 & #2) and a locust (Makkah Arbeh (plague of the locust)) punctuate the darker themes and narratives running through the show and reveal the artist's preoccupations with mythology and spirituality, history and memory, mortality and legacy.
The series El Olvido Que Seremos (the oblivion we shall become) consists of six large paintings developed from photographs taken by the artist in an abandoned house in southern Spain. Everything appeared stage-set as if the people of the house had simply not come home one day. The ‘oblivion' would seem to be epitomised in the image of a dog's skeleton lying down with its collar still on. While the images are haunting, somehow the house has become alive with resplendent vegetation and streams of gold oozing from the windows.
Sunlight also strains through the windows in This world is not my home, which depicts a man in a boat, rowing through the rubble of a dark, dilapidated house. Romantic or mythical allusions to underworld rivers are curtailed by this claustrophobic scene and the man's action is futile, but at least the bright light offers some kind of hope; a redeeming presence.
Despite the apparent bleakness of his images, the overriding sensation one is left with when looking at Jongman's paintings is that every transient moment we live and every brief life that passes, exists within an eternity of possibility for spiritual evolution, magic and hope; hello, goodbye, until we meet again.
“This world is not my home, I'm just passing through.
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.
The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.”
(lines from a bluegrass song, performed by the Stanley Brothers)
Hello, Goodbye – An interview with Jarik Jongman
29 September, 2010 by Loredana D'Andrea, http://www.spoonfed.co.uk/
Loredana D'Andrea speaks to Jarik Jongman ahead of his solo exhibition at WW Gallery.
Derelict houses, abandoned factories, mysterious motel rooms, eerie woods and old photographs: Jarik Jongman's paintings evoke a lost era with a dark sci-fi edge. A distinctive deep orange glow, floating orbs and space age lights populate his images – almost a new version of Steam Punk, just without the machines and with a lot more heart. I spoke to him about his inviting yet cryptic paintings and the inspiration he finds in old photographs and images found in flea markets.
What are you trying to express through your paintings?
Some of the work in this current show pose questions about the transience of existence, about our position in the world. But in general, I don't set out to express anything particular as that might limit the work's potential. Often the painting becomes something by itself. Everybody perceives things filtered through their own emotions and intellect anyway and that's fine. I don't believe in one meaning or correct interpretation.
There does seem to be something magical about your work...
I think I'm more interested in the metaphysical, or the magical if you will, because it hints at the secrets of this universe. The realm of possibilities that defy our everyday experiences. Besides, if you look at the world at a quantum level, this magic is already a puzzling reality.
Do you ever have a story or narrative in mind?
Not often. And when I do, I try to let go of it for fear of making illustrations to a story.
What is it about a certain photograph that catches your attention enough to want to paint it?
If I knew that precisely, my work would become formulaic. Certain images just have this quality or they happen to fit an idea I'm developing, but in general I don't like to analyse this process at all. Leaving things to the subconscious works best for me
Do you ever wonder about the people or places in your paintings? Or do you use them for purely aesthetic reasons?
Once they are painted they become something else. But I do occasionally ponder on the plight of the people whose old photographs I've bought in a flea market for example. And there's something both perverse and oddly comforting about possessing other people's personal histories.
Do you ever include anyone or anything personal to you?
I don't see how you could be an artist and not include anything personal.
Your style is very distinctive. How did you develop it?
I wasn't aware that it is. So how it has developed so far is due to dissatisfaction with previous work.
What is it about motel rooms that you find interesting?
They're like a miniature world or a private theatre where all human activity takes place: eating, sleeping, sex, violence, drugs and business, all happening within the same walls. Likewise, it's an allegory of our existence, as individuals and as a species, on earth. We check in, stay a while, and check out: that's it.
How do you see your work developing in the future?
It needs constant improving on every level. Like human beings.
29 September, 2010 by Loredana D'Andrea, http://www.spoonfed.co.uk/
Loredana D'Andrea speaks to Jarik Jongman ahead of his solo exhibition at WW Gallery.
Derelict houses, abandoned factories, mysterious motel rooms, eerie woods and old photographs: Jarik Jongman's paintings evoke a lost era with a dark sci-fi edge. A distinctive deep orange glow, floating orbs and space age lights populate his images – almost a new version of Steam Punk, just without the machines and with a lot more heart. I spoke to him about his inviting yet cryptic paintings and the inspiration he finds in old photographs and images found in flea markets.
What are you trying to express through your paintings?
Some of the work in this current show pose questions about the transience of existence, about our position in the world. But in general, I don't set out to express anything particular as that might limit the work's potential. Often the painting becomes something by itself. Everybody perceives things filtered through their own emotions and intellect anyway and that's fine. I don't believe in one meaning or correct interpretation.
There does seem to be something magical about your work...
I think I'm more interested in the metaphysical, or the magical if you will, because it hints at the secrets of this universe. The realm of possibilities that defy our everyday experiences. Besides, if you look at the world at a quantum level, this magic is already a puzzling reality.
Do you ever have a story or narrative in mind?
Not often. And when I do, I try to let go of it for fear of making illustrations to a story.
What is it about a certain photograph that catches your attention enough to want to paint it?
If I knew that precisely, my work would become formulaic. Certain images just have this quality or they happen to fit an idea I'm developing, but in general I don't like to analyse this process at all. Leaving things to the subconscious works best for me
Do you ever wonder about the people or places in your paintings? Or do you use them for purely aesthetic reasons?
Once they are painted they become something else. But I do occasionally ponder on the plight of the people whose old photographs I've bought in a flea market for example. And there's something both perverse and oddly comforting about possessing other people's personal histories.
Do you ever include anyone or anything personal to you?
I don't see how you could be an artist and not include anything personal.
Your style is very distinctive. How did you develop it?
I wasn't aware that it is. So how it has developed so far is due to dissatisfaction with previous work.
What is it about motel rooms that you find interesting?
They're like a miniature world or a private theatre where all human activity takes place: eating, sleeping, sex, violence, drugs and business, all happening within the same walls. Likewise, it's an allegory of our existence, as individuals and as a species, on earth. We check in, stay a while, and check out: that's it.
How do you see your work developing in the future?
It needs constant improving on every level. Like human beings.
