Neil Hollingsworth

I know that it may sound controversial, but I have always felt that photography is yet to prove itself as a real art form. Yes, there are some components, most of which were borrowed from painting -- but can the craft of a photographer, whose most basic skill boils down to pressing the button of his apparatus at the right place at the right time, both of which they often achieve accidentally, be compared to that of an artist holding a brush, with which they try to create new life on another surface? There is no doubt that photographs can induce aesthetic pleasure, but so can nature, or almost anything, after being processed, with a specific intent, in our minds. The effect by itself does not transcend the cause into what we call "art." But, there are artists -- and I mean painters -- who have found a way to reconcile photography and painting*. Thus, "photo-realism" was born. Neil Hollingsworth is a photo-realist painter, and he makes the best of two worlds.




















Neil fully exploits photographic effects: many of his still lives include metallic objects that mirror the minutest details and reflect light with unprecedented precision. Lines and palette enjoy refinement rarely seen in painting; the photographic origins rule out painterly excesses. Despite the overwhelming possibilities, Neil gravitates towards minimalistic, classical compositions, which nevertheless project a piquant off-beat quality. An object will appear far enough from the center to make the displacement notable, but not too far, as to not to encumber the viewing process. Backgrounds, though traditionally secondary, illuminate canvases with subtle but permeating light. These are elusive qualities, and figuring them out may significantly enrich the viewing experience; when combined, along with the more prominent elements, they make up the artist's style. I don't think there is a concession in acknowledging that it is more difficult to define the individual style of a photo-realist artist. But when still trying to do so, and doing so, it may prove to be a more rewarding process than usual, in direct proportion to the invested effort.




















When working within such an idiosyncratic art movement, the choice of a subject matter can also become a challenge. Here restraint and caution serve the artist similarly well. Neil focuses on a few themes and explores them almost religiously. Spheres, one of his favorite subjects, are depicted in numerous variations: transparent, translucent or opaque, in different sizes and settings, they corroborate his dedication on the one hand, presenting a true visual insight on this geometrical object on the other. Other themes include filled or empty glass containers, vintage cars and sliced bread. Regardless of the subject, Neil displays admirable consistency in accuracy of delivery. Eventually, when each painting can posit a visual surprise for the viewer, it is particularly pleasing to recognize that, while studying Neil's artwork, the feeling of surprise can become the less surprising of all.




















Neil Hollingworth lives and works in Atlanta, Georgia, USA. He has displayed his artwork in various galleries across the nation. He is a member of the Daily Painters Guild, and keeps a website and a blog.


*No photographers were harmed during the writing of this review.

Christopher Stott: Black Leather Shoe

Stott treats his subjects with care that transcends to something more sensuous; one could say he approaches them with love, which they duly reflect back. Still life becomes a fetish burdened with emotional investment. Technique make such evolutions possible: solid drawing with calculated color application combine to convey an aesthetic illusion. Yet sometimes the two work against each other. The artist applies colors carefully and very economically, and the brushwork is not intended to be visible. There is a methodical resemblance to 19th century French academic painting. Sometimes the layers of color seem so thin and even (particularly in the lighter tones) as to induce an aerial and detached effect, of which I spoke in the previous review. When the drawing is nearly perfect, the overall result is mesmerizing but, when it is not, the defects become accentuated after the paint is put on the canvas. Again, it is as if when they aren't together -- they are against each other.


I remember reading that Bouguereau could take up to six months to complete one work. The fact that these artists choose to complete one almost every day, alleviates responsibility -- though how much, is for the artist to decide. Fortunately, as a critic, I do not have to deal with such dilemmas. But I find Stott's insistence on using this particular technique as risk taking and bold; particularly so, considering that unlike in matters of style, these are generally conscious choices.

That shoe falls under the category where the drawing and the painting complement each other. Precision of delivery, subtle work on the shadows, especially where the sole touches the surface, somehow marble in my vision. The shoe projects affluence, but also understates it, turning timidly from the viewer, exposing its side. It is self contained on the one hand, yet evinces a communicative streak on the other. I imagine that the lighter tones elicit the latter characteristic, while the composition -- the viewer's angle and the placement -- the former. It is an aristocratic piece of footwear (in fact, that epithet would serve rightly many other Stott's model subjects). Examine Vincent van Gogh's boots:

A complete opposite. These expose themselves with a naturalistic frankness, as if taken out of a Zola novel. Battered, worn out, old and repulsive; I could almost sense the unsavory odor rise from their black innards. The one on the left displays its "ribs", the laces resembling the white bones of a skeleton. These boots pulse with allusion. Stott's shoe does not pulse: it breathes coolly and quietly. And all that remains to say is that we wear out many pairs during our lives.

Gustave Caillebotte: "Boating Party"

This work immediately caught my attention for an effect that would be best described (though anachronistically) as cinematic. In more appropriate terms, it is the perspective, and the incredible sense of movement that convey the general feeling of continuity. The rower's right hand is slightly higher than the left, the boat is also slightly tilted and the light appears to glide randomly on the water - all of which pass on the sensation of motion and change.

Here the two styles do not mix but rather transpose. The lower part of the painting - the foreground - is realistic, the boat being depicted with academic accuracy; towards the top - the background - the style turns more and more impressionistic. It seems that the gradual transposition lends credibility to the artist's conception, though not without cost: by avoiding the edges, this work emits less individual creative force. In a way, this piece compromises Caillebotte's unique style, as it does not display all the character evident in his more daring compositions.

This is a tamed Caillebotte, which relies more on technique than invention and depth. That said, the technique is indeed superb, and I, as the viewer, am positively absorbed by, or, perhaps, into, the center of events.

Giuseppe de Nittis: "Portrait of Sarah Bernhardt"

I would like to analyze this Giuseppe de Nittis portrait of Sarah Bernhardt, a famous French actress in the second half of the 19th century.

Pierrot is a sad figure, and sadness is what the face of the stander expresses. It is interesting to notice that this is the only visible body part: all else is covered by the luscious costume. This is the first detail that encourages the viewer to look at the face before anything else.

The second is the geometry of the apparel: its form, together with the hat point towards the facial expression; the third is the color - amidst the white and grey tones, the skin and hair of the actress stand out and draw immediate attention. The posture also proves a contribution, as when she lifts her shoulders up and sinks her head into the jabot, it is forced closer to the (golden) center of the painting. Indeed, the forcefulness of this bodily movement endows the piece with additional drama.

I think that the enormous buttons play the symbolical role of tears. As the stander looks to the right, the buttons - tears - flow to the left and accentuate Pierot's inner tension. The richness of the brightly lit costume opposed the the shaded countenance emphasize the turmoil even more. This is an intense and riveting portrait.

Art and Critique

This blog, just as the title says, is about art and critique of art. I will write here about various periods and styles and I plan to explore the "one painting a day" internet phenomenon.

My main interest is painting but, if tempted, I may write about sculpture and architecture as well -- because temptations there are plenty.

I hope people will enjoy reading this blog just as I do writing it.