| Introduction
| Remembrance & A Sense of Loss | Garden
of Eden | The Search of Beauty | The
Artist | 2nd
Solo Exhibition |
Remembrance and A Sense of Loss
Sylvia
Lee Goh's paintings are as much an event as the artist herself. As a painter,
she imparts the same kind of elegance and drama so integral of herself and
her personality into her work. And the results are gratifying.
A member
of that almost extinct, rare breed of self-taught artists, Sylvia has had
the advantage of finding her aesthetic path for herself; of not being shackled
by the personal preference and pet peeves of the art lecturer and his kingdom
of the art school.
Instead, with special
insight, exacting commitment and an almost unconditional love for paint -
right down to its very physicality - the artist has lifted herself out of
the drudgery of the Sunday painter and discovered for herself a visual
vocabulary, that is all her own.
Sylvia's most haunting work, If Dreams Came True,
features a plush Ophelia-like self -portait
What began with
pattern-like compositions in coppertuling, evolved into the two dimensional
rendering of pretty flowers and eventually arriving at the undeniably
impressionistic styles and specific intentions, which dictates her current
works.
The immediate response
to Sylvia's paintings is to read them as wholly autobiographical. After all,
in her still-lifes, she draws exclusively from her near obsession with the
Baba-Nyonya background - the altars, the objects, their setting, even the
colourful sweets that the ladies indulge; they all recall the traditions
and practices and detail of a by-gone - "recently revived" era.
And, even if the artist
simply smiles at the question, there can be little doubt that the woman who
plays protagonist in most of these paintings is the artist herself.
Even when there are
more than one actor in the work, the situations the artist has created are
derived from her own personal experience. Hence, the role of the narrative
plays a large part in her work as well - further enhancing the place of the
autobiographical in her work.
It seems that Sylvia
is testament that artists can never remove themselves from what they create,
however self-indulgent it may appear.
However, this does
not contain the entire scope of her body of work.
With tact and tenderness,
Sylvia's paintings deal with moods and manners which are set on stages structured
by her culture. They explore relationships and while not being distinctly
feminist, draw on the state of women for their inspiration and relevance.
Especially the woman who, on the brink of total emancipation is still held
to her dominant culture and a distant value system.
For, although women
are depicted as hopeful and independent - physical, spiritual... yet they
seem in conflict with the ever present aura of sensuality expressed through
hot colour, through the soft vulnerability of their stance and gesture and
always through their constant depiction as objects (almost) of great
beauty.
It created a tension
-- somewhat coquettish and pliable, and yet defiant -- arising in a almost
pugilistic confrontation between the viewer and the subject. It is as if,
the artist's women are torn between a new found sense of independence and
the need to continue to placate us, the viewer (society?) with things of
beauty and values of old.
After all, the artist
herself is the first to insist that feminism is far from the sentiments behind
these works.
Further contemplation
gives the work many complex layers. Certainly, one of the key reactions that
arises from such contemplation is the overwhelming sense of loss, that the
artist manages to convey to the viewer.
It is a powerful mood
and is ever present in the work - first and foremost through the dominant
motifs, symbol, subject and themes employed - the various paraphanelia; which
is Peranakan, the rituals that go hand-in-hand with the paraphanelia; the
reverence paid to nature.
They all hark at a
time gone by - a defiant and gorgeous reminder of the incredible cost of
progress. But much more than specifics, Sylvia manages to convey this loss
through the rapport her subject strikes up with the viewer.
The solitary Nyonya
bride, the wedding entourage, the funeral urns, the solitary figure amidst
beautiful clutter, the plate of Nyonya kuih, friend in an Edenesque garden,
friends whispering to each other - all transcend the whimsical, and fill
the viewer with an aching sense of what can only be described as loss and
aloneness - a state which is distinct from loneliness, for in 'aloneness"
it is implied that the artist actually embraces the condition.
Even in adolescence,
girls are shown almost withdrawn, sitting in fairy-like gardens, quietly
anticipating that which is sensed but not quite known.
The artist seems to
suggest to us that joy can only be of short duration - time and fate eventually
severing the union or muting the intensity of affection. Even if her subject
sometimes find companions, they are dictated by a kind of short termed
inevitability.
Gesture, attitude
and expression communicate the thoughts and emotions of the protagonist in
these painting, and in doing so, once again imply an immediate personal
narrative, but then immediately take us to a stage of common experience.
And the reference to theatrics is ever present in the compositions she uses
and the dramas which unfold. A sense of drama is clearly exploited in all
the work. Even the still-lifes sit in their assigned and defined spaces,
the protagonist or figure in the paintings (when she is present) using them
like props or symbols that result in a coming together which reminds the
viewer of lovers in absentia and the great divide that distance us from each
other.
They become almost
romantic sagas.
And as far as the
physicality of each painting is concerned, here too, the artist shows herself
to be a talented and committed practitioner. Paint is applied in distinct
and careful layers with loving regard for hue and the overall colour harmonies
in every painting. While the artist indulges in a rich and colourful palette,
the careful consideration given to the harmony of hue, lends for some impressive
results and instills in the work a kind of dream-like softness.
Contrast is introduced
by the obvious us of textures. Sylvia employs this device almost carving
out the shapes and details that emblazon her canvases. There is also an
interesting quality of light which is present in her works. Using extremely
subtle and gradual movement of hue and tone, her painting, the recent lotus
triptych, are illuminated by a light that emphasises the solidity of mass,
defines contours precisely and intensifies colour -- while retaining softness
of memory.
It is clear who Sylvia
artistic parents are. Impressionism obviously plays an integral part in her
influences.
And without being
antiquarian, these paintings capture a mood of romantic neoclassicism and
rococco sentiment, but she is not overwhelmed by the traditions she has drawn
on. Rather, she filters and focuses its matter in order to state the perceptions
about culture, gender and self.
All of which is expressed
through a very Asian relevance - not only in the context of the obvious subject
matter, but in the almost fabric-like weave of detail, which has come to
dominate the various grounds (fore, mid, back) of a Sylvia Lee Goh
painting.
It is the same equal
level of intricacy in these details with seemingly little regard for the
more conventional "European" approach to depth and space which gives her
work its, sometimes, almost charmingly naive individuality.
Characteristic of
this style is its transcendence of the specific romantic. Although the painting
and its subject are clothed in the flavour of period and set in the world
of Peranakan roots, Sylvia distills from these elements a language without
temporal or distinctive limit, a mode that allows form to bespeak mood and
content.
Issues of the human
condition - both social and personal, questions of identity and self and
always the appreciation of great beauty, remain at the centre of these works.....
in a unity rarely achieved in current figurative paintings.
by J Anurendra
Writer & Painter |