New works by Connie Borup opening January 17th at Phillips
Gallery once again demonstrate the power of resurrection. Not just the renewal
of nature, but the regenerating endurance of Borup’s idiom. Working in oils on
medium-sized canvasses, Borup’s subject continues to be nature, and how little
we really know about it. Not only are we treated to numerous paeans in the
finest of details, but are constantly reminded of how many visual surprises are
hidden in the most unsuspecting of places.
At the heart of Borup’s work lies a fascination with natural
process and the cycles of nature: the ying and yang of life. Rich with pathetic
fallacy, we are privy to a world of tumult and repose, brutality and recovery. Exemplary
is ‘Water Journey’, which shows a gently sloping beach, half bathed in water. The fluid is
completely transparent, giving us a direct view to the riverbed and its mottled
lodgers. These consist of an assortment of smooth and rounded pebbles that are
strewn across the waterbed, landing in chance positions like dice on a
gameboard. The ovoid forms are contrasted by several sharp twigs, which jut
into the scene at odd angles, adding agitation where once there was none.
‘Watery Resting Place’
presents a similar scenario as the tangled branches of an overflowing shrub
pour out over a waterway and drop its leaves onto the water’s surface. As they
drift along, some float away while others stay and idle, perhaps as a parable
to the unpredictably of life. Not only does this foliage guard darker recesses
of the underbrush, but serves as a harbinger of color, in creamy beiges and
greens. In addition, leaf shapes lose their depth, becoming elliptical and lacrymal
to evoke Japanese screens. Whereas some of Borup’s works use water as a window
onto subterranean worlds, it here serves to reflect a gloomy, overcast
sky.
Borup’s images are often situated at transitional locations,
where water meets land and adaptation is required. In particular, the artist’s
iconography feeds off expired plant life and the resulting decay: the retreat
of leaf color and the draining of pigment. Here, stems and branches become
splintered and prickly, yet are swiftly remedied by the healing properties of
water as the source of all life. In these instances, the harsher effects of
nature are mitigated by the interplay of light and water and its dual role as
window and mirror. Such is the case in ‘Dancing
Reeds’, where a hillside of reeds has been ravaged by a long, dry summer. All
of the plants have expired, their leaves bent in cruel contortions, forming
peach and cream arches. In the foreground, a still blue pool reflects the
plants, translating their curved leaves into jagged, lyrical patterns. The
pool’s pale blue and grey hues contrast the warm brick colors of the red rock
background. A cluster of plants emerge from the middle of this puddle, showing
a Nietzschean perseverence in the fine green sprigs sprouting from their base.
A similar resoluteness is seen in ‘Glassy Echoes’, where a dried bush defies gravity by
growing horizontally above a body of water. Hovering just inches above the
surface, we marvel at the architectural tenacity of this achievement Most of
the curved branches grow skyward, while a few are downturned, stroking the
water like fingers. Bleached by the weather and drained of all pigment, most
are chalky white, while a warmer orange hue clings to a few remaining sticks.
These weave their way in and out of the lighter twigs, forming a lattice
through which the blue-grey water can be seen. While the actual branches posess
a gently curving shape, they adopt a more irregular motif in their reflection.
Here I can’t help thinking that the interplay of water, wind and wood not only
mirrors our own existential predicaments, but at times, the folly of human
endeavour in general.
Perhaps the most dramatic of this series is ‘Tree Reflection’, where the view is limited exclusively to a reflection. Pictured
is a tree of uncertain origin, with branches twisted into the paths of
Rorschach inks, inviting prophetic interpretations. Forming an intricate lace
not unlike a splatter painting, this is set against the ripples of a small
periwinkle pool. Saturating our vision, Borup has chosen a firey palette of
crimson reds and oranges for the tree’s reflection. This conjures up sun
flares, and the violent alchemy that set the landscapes of Southern Utah in
motion. As we experience the tree in reflection form only, we are left to speculate
on the original object that inspired this doppelgänger. As such, the work
invites parallels with other reflecting pools, and their capacity to
misrepresent and deceive. Cautionary tales which expound on the illusory nature
of life, such as Plato’s Cave, also come to mind. More reassuring is the use of
the mirror by Perseus, which functioned as an aid to overcome demons.
Just as we think we have Borup pegged, ‘Pond Disguised by
Leaves’ sends our thoughts into new directions. In this work, water plays a
dual role of mirror and window, while incorporating new elements of the environment. Here
we see a shallow pond, bordered by two masses of tiny, lanceolate leaves. These
flank the water, like golden curtains on either side of a stage. The water
inside is still and reflective - like a sheet of glass. In its mirror, a bright
grey sky is captured. This is contrasted with the dark silhouette of a nearby
tree. Where the shadow falls, a view to the pond bottom is seen, carpeted with
pebbles and sludge. Still and cold, this is the birthplace of northern
mythology, where Ophelia was laid to rest, and where the Lady of the Lake
retreats.
Works such as these not only remind us of the nuances and
complexities that can be found in the most unassuming of nooks and crannies.
More importantly, they expand the parameters of Utah landscape painting which,
subject to market forces, often descends into cliché. Replete with mirages and
shadows, mirrors and windows, screens and symbols, Borups works reveal secret
worlds – both real and imagined – that inspire a renewed return to nature – and
art.
'Waterscapes' will be on display from January 17
to February 14, 2014 at Phillips Gallery,
444 East, 200 South, Salt Lake City, UT
84111.
