Carol Marine: Umbrella Flower

The colors, how they combine, and the soaring flower just make this painting so magical and evocative, like a flight of fancy trapped by a frame. The petals resemble butterfly's wings, flapping softly but nervously, as if trying to break free from the material flower, which, in turn, also appears to hover, disconnected from the ground by the lower edge of the piece. This painting is like a pastoral poem, except that paint and canvas substitute ink and paper. Or, perhaps a haiku, a short and condensed poetical image that imparts movement, delicacy and low-key and mysterious intensity in just three lines. Yes, I like this piece. And although there is no indication of whether it is an out or an indoor depiction, I strongly tend towards the former.

The emerald green is stunning. Interestingly, it actually appears in nature but, as the color of sea, not air. I think there is a recurring motif in Carol's work: she extracts and borrows a color that is characteristic of wide planes, such as the sky or the ocean, and transfers it to her next canvas, but with a different purpose -- disposing of other actual components, for instance, ripples or clouds. She detaches and abstracts that particular color from its origin, designating it the role of a reminder, of an actor that carries the power of evocation of something big and powerful. So if the green here reminds of the sea, the question that arises is why, logically, besides providing an surrealistic tinge, the sea takes the place of the sky?

Here the title comes in to fill in the blanks of my interpretation. The flower is compared to an umbrella, an object that protects from water. It alludes to the hydrological cycle, and that eventually the water in the clouds and the ocean is interchangeable -- and so is the meaning of the background. Rain and stormy weather often darken the atmosphere, and the flower may indeed appear to be crumpled by strong wind. Together with the ominous background, the title foreshadows the impending. But this painting also contains a flashback, of a historical and stylistic scope. It is reminiscent of van Gogh's Branch of an Almond Tree in Blossom. Most of all, it resembles it conceptually; same idea, different execution and scale. Though, Carol's palette in this piece may have some van-Goghian elements, of the late and troubled van Gogh in particular -- and, this final evocation, so it seems, will certainly surpass the rest.

Carol Marine: Bulby Dots

The artist plays with colors -- the pink hides behind the blue and the white, winking occasionally at the individual viewer -- provoking a hide and seek game between the audience and the dots. The game progresses, transforming into a kind of a dialogue between the artist and her audience: she hides the paint, and they seek, as the rules become reversed, when many look for a single meaning. Every painting may be viewed as a pictorial transposition of this game, but it is here that the comparison becomes particularly obvious and relevant. This piece becomes a communicative junction between the artist and the audience -- an object that unites and connects the two parties, similarly to the home base in the game.

However, while playing, one tries to outdo the other. When the seeker and the hider arrive to home base simultaneously (I am only familiar with the variant where the former must touch home base after finding the latter), a conflict ensues. Here, on the other hand, both openly steer towards the destination of understanding. An undesirable situation in the game, it is desirable in art -- the rules, once more, become reversed. Still, the common feature of fun remains intact, though I assume that while viewing a painting it can evolve into something more sophisticated. Fun here turns into subtle humor, carefully orchestrated by the painter's brush.

The colors of these bulbs may not seem so exotic if we consider the taste of garlic. The toxic, mischievous pink wonderfully correlates with the bitter taste. Occasional spots that peep out may be warning about the overuse of this vegetable, reminding to put small amounts -- a painterly culinary guide. I think that the polka dots can also imply on garlic's true nature: a leopard cannot change its spots; garlic, even when consumed in small cooked amounts, may cause a foul breath. There is only one way to avoid it: if everybody eats garlic, nobody will notice it. Possibly, garlic is the most democratic of all vegetables. Viva!..

Carol Marine: Red Rose

What is the lifespan of a cut flower? A week, possibly two, with the addition of sugar or some other nourishment. During that time, the flower slowly disintegrates -- and this is what this painting shows, in the making, or the unmaking, to be more accurate. And it does so with a harsh rhythm: I have recently watched an action movie, The Bourne Ultimatum, -- this piece could be aptly categorized as an "action painting;" the interchange of black, red and the shadows between, along with piling up of sharp diagonals, produces effects similar to those created by the shaky camera movements in the film. The petals of this rose project innate continuity and instability and, akin to the seventh art form, they evoke suspense, though of a different kind.

But perhaps there is a more appropriate cinematic comparison -- I keep returning to the camera simply because of how alive and active the flower appears on the canvas. This one is from the Discovery Channel: a sequence of a few seconds, showing in fast forward the blooming and subsequent fading of a single flower. The piece in front of us could be a pictorial representation of frame edited out of the sequence. Impressionism is known to strive to portray motion and transition, but here the result subjects the genre to fast forwarding -- "turbo-impressionism." Once again, it is the injection of features from another style that accelerates this painting: the triangular petals and rectangular brushstrokes strongly allude to cubism.

The rosebud is symmetrical to the jar, a peculiarity that may induce a false sense of harmony. Usually, the vase is much bigger than the flower, so the container in front of us turns out to be surprisingly small. The balance is deceptive here and the blossom conceals a threat -- of tipping over and destroying the composition. Still, there are two features that somehow support it: the first is the wall and the second is the general atmosphere of a quiet room with a single light source, calmly but confidently reflected by the jar -- just a few brushstrokes of white. Perhaps, while pointing these features out, I am merely trying to define that extraordinary suspense, in a hope to resolve it. But the paradox is that it is predestined to remain constant, trapped inside the frame, being the most stable attribute of this piece.

Carol Marine: Four Eights

These orange segments appear to be closer to the mental image, that of the memory and imaginative reconstruction, than to the original, realistic one. We do not see the natural segmentation, or almost any signs of fiber, which should be visible from that distance. Instead, there is the emphasis on strong lines, straight or arched, which enclose overruling any details areas of orange of varying value -- features that denote a geometrical schematic representation -- the first step towards abstraction. The artist's delivery shifts from accurate visual representation of objects towards their mentally processed counterparts. Perhaps, this tendency merely reflects how the artificial cutting into sections overrides the natural division of the fruit. The artist balances on the line that demarcates genres. This painting becomes a generic fusion, with overtones of cubism, fauvism and expressionism.

The colors are a visual feast. They are bright, and even flashy. Yet the artist avoids loudness; I think that the radical viewing angle adds symbolic humility to this piece -- the colors are very self-indulgent, or even self-absorbed, but the viewers are compensated by their lofty position, the literal ability "to look down" upon the scene. On a similar note, the colors may appear to be hiding something, but the aerial view does not let them, providing maximal exposure. If there ever was a need for justification of such angles, this could be it. There is a complex equilibrium between the rich palette and the ascetic perspective, as radical foreshortening tames the colors. This effect contributes the the inner unity that this luminous work projects. Interestingly, the composition plays only a minor role, as if trying not to get in the way of the other players.

A comparison comes to mind: the orange is not far from the color of gold and, considering the title of this painting, the fruit parts may appear to replicate golden pieces of eight. Now that may not seem such a far fetched hypothesis if you recall how coins were checked for authenticity. By teeth -- practically, by taste. However, when you are sailing into a months long pirate campaign, your teeth may all fall out because of scurvy. And the best way to treat it is to consume fresh fruit, especially vitamin C rich citrus fruits, such as oranges. You see, it is all connected... Conclusion: don't sail unprepared. You may end up exchanging all your pieces of eight for a piece of orange. Just like the one depicted here.

Carol Marine: Pitcher & Apple #2

Introduction
During my writing in this blog, I have learned that there are three main groups of still life painters: those who prefer minimal compositions, of one or two items, those who aim for complexity, including as much as ten various objects, and those who are comfortable with any arrangement, a trait that makes them universal and all-round artists. Carol Marine clearly belongs to the third category. Moreover, she is similarly at ease with various known painting styles: her exotic and intense palette echoes expressionism, her loose brushwork pays tribute to impressionism, and the final results often carry a suggestion of fauvism. And yet, what fascinates me the most in her work, is the overwhelming sense of personality. It saturates her paintings and inevitably affects the viewer. All of the influences do not impose themselves upon the artist's expression; Marine absorbed techniques and peculiarities from various traditions and schools, and gives them her own individual interpretation, filtering them through the prism of her own vision. Eventually, her style is very definitive and focused, revealing that the artist knows where she is headed -- even when she tries something new. This may sound strange, but I find something masculine in her work. Again, a universal artist, who can transcend femininity and enrich her paintings with the air of the opposite sex.
Marine often experiments, creating a series of works on a single theme, reminiscent of Monet, albeit on a smaller scale. Objects are frequently depicted directly from above, or from another unusual angle. Another characteristic that distinguishes her style, is the creative approach to backgrounds. These are often painted with an unexpected color, or decorated by a piece of cloth. She is similarly inventive when it comes to ornamental finish, covering entire canvases with polka-dots or other unusual patterns. Additionally, it often seems that a filter covers her pieces: it produces a certain fuzziness, as if the paintings suffer from megascopic pixelization. All of these features add a dimension of surprise to her artwork. It may be an acquired taste, but I find it certainly worth acquiring. In spite of so many subjective qualities, or maybe because of them, the final result turns out to be most objective: fresh and enticing paintings.
Carol Marine lives in Austin, Texas, USA. Besides painting, she also teaches in various workshops. She publishes her work on this website and this blog.

This is a luscious piece, with generously distributed paint. It is not realistic, and it was not intended as such. Looking at these colors, vast oriental palaces, tended by innumerable servants and slaves, come to mind -- the behind the scenes of a tale from One Thousand and One Nights. I have recently read a few tales from the collection, and was surprised about the unruly debauchery described in this medieval Islamic book. The apple can certainly represent the temptation and imply on what is happening onstage.

It is interesting to see how the drapery (or the curtain) starts at the background and gradually flows out to the foreground, capturing a considerable part of it. It becomes both a secondary and a primary actor, providing contrast for the pitcher and the apple -- supporting them, both physically and visually -- and simultaneously exposing wide areas in a somewhat flaunting, playful manner. Initially a device, it has earned the right to be an active member of this still life: "Pitcher & Apple on Cloth." It occupies the whole center of the painting, and its azure tint indeed lets the composition breathe, just as the color implies.

In tune with my previous remarks, I would say that the brushwork here is no less than bohemian. As a result, objects appear to be growing, or expanding. The sense of movement is not compositional, but more particular: the pitch and the apple appear to strive for independence, trying to push each other away. Again, the drapery plays a conciliating role, but I can still tell that the other two don't like each other. Ironically, they generate magnetic tension, which in turn adds a comic element to the painting. The apple indeed replicates the lower part of the pitcher, but in such minute proportions as to further elaborate the comic theme. However, all of these separate meanings do not undermine the general impression; eventually, this canvas is more than the sum of its parts.