Review by Azra Limbada of "The Afterlives of Doctor Gachet" by Sam Meekings

The Afterlives of Doctor Gachet by Sam Meekings is a historical fiction novel that weaves in and out of both the imagined life of Peter Gachet, as well as providing a reflective commentary on the author’s journey of discovering and writing about the subject of Van Gogh’s famous painting. 

The novel focuses primarily on exploring the sadness captured in the painting, as well as attempting to trace its unique and elusive journey through the hands of investors and art collectors. Meekings skilfully portrays the inner turmoil of a man who felt out of place and out of time, and who consequently turned to the arts for comfort and escape. As the doctor explains at one point, he chose medicine since he ‘was not talented enough to be an artist,’ and this fascination with what art achieves, or tries to, is thoroughly examined throughout. 

For Meekings, the painting is of personal significance, explaining how a chance encounter with a small print of it left him feeling like there was ‘a tiny marble rolling around the inside of my skull.’ In many ways, the novel seeks to explore the connection between art and society in a philosophical fashion, traipsing a fine line between art as representational, and art as a means of individual communication between subject and viewer. As readers, we, too, explore the afterlives of Dr. Gachet, both as a door into a somewhat imagined past, as well as finding an individual human bond between him and ourselves. 

One slight drawback to the novel is the reminder the author continuously gives us of the fact that this is a piece of historical fiction and that there are plenty of incidents that cannot be written without some creative re-imagination. When approaching historical fiction, this is a given, and can take away from the sense of suspended belief a reader is accustomed to.  Often, it feels as though the author is trying to convince us that the application of this creative licence is okay but perhaps that is not necessary at all. We are already drawn into the world of Peter from the moment he faces his biggest hurdle, after he grievously injures himself at the start of the novel. Ultimately, as readers, we are happily prepared to let the author use whatever facts are at his disposal to re-create an otherwise compelling story, and one in which a young man tries ‘to be anything but a boy cursed with a mangled ankle and a relentless shyness.’

The Afterlives of Doctor Gachet artfully captures a glimpse into the life of a man whose lined face continues to stir emotions in its modern day viewers. You may not find the answer to whatever that elusive element is in this book, but you will understand better why it is so easy to relate to Doctor Gachet’s sadness, so clearly visible through the medium of colour and oil on canvas. 


About the reviewer Azra Limbada is an English PhD student, currently providing literacy intervention at an SEN school. She enjoys reading and writing women’s fiction in her spare time.

Review by Dips Patel of “Pure Presence: Alberto Giacometti” – an exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery

Pure Presence: Alberto Giacometti

15 October 2015 – 10 January 2016

National Portrait Gallery

http://www.npg.org.uk/whatson/giacometti/exhibition.php

The Artist's Mother: Oil on canvas, 1950 

Of all the artists in all the studios in all the world he has to be the singular inspiration for my own daubs and doodlins. I’ve seen his work both as a collection of just his work and as part of a collection in so many galleries and museums all over the world, but this is the first time I’ve had a chance to see a focus on his portraiture (with some nods to his sculptural work). While, weirdly, his sculptures have had the loudest influence on my (2D) work, it’s his paintings and drawings that have had the deepest emotional impact. 

Woman of Venice VIII: Bronze, 1956

You’d recognise his 3D work straight off the bat (really thin, gaunt figures that scream isolation and emotional disconnect) but the 2D stuff is where the real power lies as that’s where the philosophical heart lies of his vision and it is a vision. The later work is what really got me the first time I came across his work (back during the pre-Cambrian era, also known as my college years) cos it was the first time I’d seen paintings painted like it was a drawing. That’s not very clear (‘clear as mud dip.. bloody nutter’); he painted like he was drawing, so he wielded his paintbrush and used paint like we use a pen and ink and it helped create a singular vision and style which makes him an absolute giant of modern art. 

Diego: Oil on canvas, 1959

There was one piece in particular ‘Figure Grise’ (tete en gris), 1957 that had me spellbound for a good half hour/forty mins, floating, shimmering would be more apt, on the wall and with each forward step taken towards it, it appeared to recede further away into itself, simply withdrawing to the point where up close, and I mean right up close, it’s nothing more than a series of worked and reworked lines of paint. Get too close and invade its personal space and it would simply disappear, maddeningly indifferent to my presence a detached curiosity haughtily asking ‘who are you looking at? me? hmm? Get back there, go on, keep going..’. Only when I stood almost on the other side of the room (a good 15/20 feet away or thereabouts) did it really look like it felt comfortable with me looking at it, demanding I keep my distance and it would play nice. 

Figure Grise (tete en gris): Oil on Canvas, 1957

Like a small child, reticent and reserved in the company of strangers but curious of what they’re doing, a child that runs away at the first sign of your approach but given a bit of time it’ll get used to you – yup, that’s how I felt when I was looking at that painting; and you might feel the same: it’ll come to you, but not before it’s ready.

Self-Portrait: Paper on pencil, c1923-4

About the reviewer
Dips Patel is a graduate in Graphic Design which means he can colour in without going over the lines and when he does he makes it look deliberate, cool and edgy. He much prefers fine art where the art of talking nonsense is finer still allowing him extremely moderate success in introducing his work to a wider audience. Hobbies include reading stuff, watching stuff, commendably misguided attempts at painting stuff and consuming copious amounts of coco pops, clementines, curries, cakes and cocktails, not all at the same time which is frowned upon in polite society.

Review by Karol Valderrama of the "Reading the Body" event by Lydia Towsey and Scott Brigwood at Attenborough Arts Centre

Everybody’s Reading Festival 2015
26th September – 4th October

Reading the Body:
Attenborough Arts Centre
10am-3:30pm

When I first considered joining this event, I felt attracted by its main topic and the dynamism the programme offered.  However, I must confess I was concerned when I decided to attend, and also when I realised drawing was going to be an alternative but demanding way to interpret and read a female body.

My concern increased when I arrived, as I found out that this was a class with people who have had experience in drawing, even though I could define myself as skilled to do basic traces.  Fortunately, both Lydia Towsey and Scott Brigwood (leading artists of the event) made of the experience something welcoming, simple and significant, even before starting the workshop.  After going into the room, I was invited to grab a drawing board (the first one in my life), some graphite sticks, charcoal, chalk pastels and markers, and so explore a whole new world through white sheets of paper.

Based on Scott’s words, this was an experience of mark-making which aimed to discover the meaning of our drawings and going beyond conventional techniques.  People who attended this event had the opportunity to create a unique signature no matter the background each one of us had.  Several suggestions were given, beginning with the most valuable, I would say: obliterating preconceptions to guarantee the best “babies” ever (which was the name given to our artistic creations by Lydia).

With materials at hand, general recommendations and a naked model in front of us, the main task was simple: look at the model and draw.  It sounds simple, doesn’t it? But again, this experience was not just about conventional drawing; not just because it was NOT focused on developing a common or traditional drawing style, but also because it was NOT just about images: It was about an interesting mixture of words and images at the same time. 

Later on, instructions were given clearly and we were all ready to start.  Nevertheless, every new sheet that was taken on the board was becoming progressively more challenging, aiming to change styles, to break paradigms and to contribute from a new individual perspective.  A white sheet was not just a white sheet; it was an experience that led to feelings of freedom or chaotic emotions at the moment of completing every new drawing.  Again, this was not just drawing, as words were coming up, supplementing graphical expression; they were saying something together, so words were images, and images were sentences.

With regards to the model, her natural shape contrasted with some exaggerated poses she gave us at every stage.  What did they really aim to?  Certainly, the physical and aesthetic analysis of her, moved towards a more subjective and original reading of her movement or inactivity; a reading resulting of what she performed, combining our beliefs, multiple contexts and the way we used the given tools.  For instance, the graphite stick enhanced our drawings and it was there as the magic tool to discover what the woman in front really meant… not necessarily nudity… but multiple features or traits within our realities.  This finally became a process of extreme consciousness regarding the female representation and our unconscious ways of examining female bodies.

As it was mentioned in the information given prior to the event, it was indeed a different way to read, write and draw the female body.  Expected or not, these creations ended up being an additional way to understand ourselves via original images, as a consequence of the willingness everyone had to move further on within the experience.  Indeed, no experience was necessary; the key was to strongly believe what both artists mentioned at the beginning: Starting without preconceptions and allowing the mark-making experience to consequently see transformations at the moment of reading.

Now that the workshop is over, several questions come to my mind.  First, how did we, participants, finally understand the body we read during those hours?  How did we depict it?  Did our backgrounds and beliefs contribute to have a different or similar reading among us?  After this, I also thought and asked myself what “reading the body” means today, based on the experience.  Multiple answers could appear, for sure, and much more when visual memories swim through social networks in the current days. 

“Choose the events that might make a difference,” the festival Coordinator, Juliet Martin, stated in the foreword of the brochure.  Clearly, I did not hesitate in following her invitation and focused my attention on this particular one, identifying this as an opportunity to make a multifaceted reading, writing and representation of the female body in one same moment.  Evidently, this experience allowed us to be all readers and mark-makers with no exclusion of gender or creed, to consequently analyse this type of art freely.  We were not more than ten participants, just a few indeed, but enough people to replicate this alternative way of reading humanity in modern times. 


About the reviewer
Karol Valderrama is an English/Spanish teacher from Colombia who lives in Leicester.  She has worked in an interdisciplinary level, completing an MA in Film and Film Cultures.  Additionally, Karol is a PhD Candidate in Modern Languages at the University of Leicester focusing on Latin American cinema and gender studies.

Review by Hesmita Patel of Dips Patel’s unnamed series paintings

Untitled. Oil on Canvas (40” x 30”) 2009

Having seen some of the previous figure work in the unnamed series by Dips Patel, I was excited and honoured that he offered to create a one off unique piece for me.

Untitled. Pen and Indian Ink on Canvas (60” x 24”) 2012

Looking at this piece it is easy to overlook the complexities depicted within the perceived simplicity of the figures. When I look at this piece I am drawn to the emotions that I feel each individual figure appears to represent. The slight tilt of a head showing me sadness, two figures facing each other showing me friendship and love and two back to back figures showing anger and frustration. I feel that you can look at this piece in a range of different moods and find a figure that you can relate to at that specific moment in time, demonstrating the subjective nature of this work.

Untitled. Pen and Indian Ink on Canvas (40” x 35”) 2014

Each time I look at it I notice new intricacies and have new thoughts about the work. The fading of the figures into the background adds another level of depth and the perception of infinity, perhaps also representing the infinite amount of emotions one can displace onto the figures.

About the reviewer
Hesmita Patel has recently qualified as an Occupational Therapist, embarking upon her career in sunny Manchester. She likes baking, reading, occasionally running quite far for charitable causes and has been known to worship at the altar of fizzy cola bottles, having converted from the Church of Strawberry Laces.

Review by Suzanne Wells of Dips Patel’s paintings

Untitled. Pen and Indian Ink on Canvas (60” x 24”) 2014

To look at Dips Patel's work is to enter a seductive yet quietly disturbing world where Giacometti-like figures appear to stoop, stare and search the canvas for a way out.

Patel's elongated pen and ink figures have a deep sense of melancholy. The untitled series for example consists of miniature block canvas with two or more figures contained and constrained within a simple linear grid. The deep block frame in which the canvas hang only seems to accentuate the deep sense of foreboding these figures permeate, stuck in an eternal void, suspended in timeless stagnation.

Untitled. Pen and Indian Ink on Canvas (10”x 6”) 2002

That the artist chooses to construct the work using a monochrome palette serves to simplify the response from the viewer. With no palette to distract the eye, the viewer immediately begins to contemplate each figure's presence. The 2D realm in which these eerie figures exist seems silent without sound or depth. The fact that the viewer's interpretation of any narrative is subjective, only serves to enhance the forlorn charm each piece displays.

To view Patel's work is to momentarily escape the at times frenetic and absurdly modern pace of life we now so often inhabit. The viewer has time to draw breath, and quietly absorb the simplicity and elegance of each work before opening the door, powering up the smartphone and stepping out once again into modern wired life.

About the reviewer
Suzanne Wells is an Art History graduate from the Courtauld Institute of Art.
She has her own caricature pet portrait business producing quirky one off pieces with a strong emphasis on character.