For his solo exhibition The Dance Paintings, Matthew Stone synthesises the study of virtual spatiality within the history of painting, with experimental 'cut-outs' à la Matisse and his own unique hybrid practice. Stone ushers in a new age of painting, which he refers to as 'non-dualistic,' challenging the borders of both digital and analogue presentation. His new works feature hand-rendered underpainting, completed with elements from his digital workflow printed on top. Ordinarily, he is known for placing images of hand painted brushstrokes onto virtual 3D models. Here he inverts that and places wireframes of those same models onto his hand painted brushstrokes. Stone seeks to bring the messiness of humanity to digital spaces, exploring the potential for genuine emotional encounters within them.
Stone used references and citations as a paradigm for his creations. The paintings join multiple art historical threads, weaving them into a layered narrative that encompasses Henri Matisse's La Danse (1910) and Nicolas Poussin's Danse à la musique du Temps (c. 1640), which in turn inspired Matisse's own masterpiece. The majority of the works borrow their composition from Matisse's major mural composition The Dance, commissioned in 1930 by the American collector Albert C. Barnes for the massive arches above the windows in his new gallery.
Stone has a long history of collaborations with dancers and collectivists beginning in noughties squatter art collective spaces he was instrumental in founding. Dance is a subject close to his heart, because he loves the way dancers become a community while occupying the virtual space of the choreography. His digital paintings embody that virtual space literally, making it a place for the celebration of human interdependence. By itself, this kind of connection is more existential than physical. Yet, Stone manipulates the bodies compositionally, to achieve what he calls 'the expanded, relational sense of self.' The boundaries between individual movements and bodies blur, making it hard to distinguish where one dancer ends and another begins. Stone's fascination for Matisse extends far beyond subject matters. In an interview, he showed admiration for the way Matisse developed his 'cut-out' technique as a type of analogue "ctrl + Z" undo function during the realisation of the Barnes Mural. Up until 1930, Matisse had never created anything this large, nor had he ever had to make a painting fit architecturally accurate proportions. Besides, his mobility was becoming limited. He needed to figure out a way to sketch his drawing on a large canvas where it would be difficult to wipe it out or paint over it to make changes. He began by using a long bamboo pole attached to a pencil as an elongated drawing tool to sketch the dancers' shapes. Then, over the course of months, he tried cutting large pieces of pre-coloured paper and pinned them up, which helped to set the piece's proportions. For the first time, Matisse was using scissors as an art tool. Although, back then, he regarded this method as a 'shameful secret,' cut-outs later established an independent practice and shaped the renowned traits of his mature style: pure line, bold colour, and weightless space.
Stone describes his own digital workflow as a personal take on cut-outs. By drawing on the legacy of Matisse, the artist recognises that what we might now think of as virtual realities have long played a part in the history of image-making and spatial imagination, long before the advent of screens. As a matter of fact, we perceive a parallel between Stone's use of 3D paint in virtual spaces and Matisse's late exploration of dimensionality through flatness. The virtual choreography in The Dance Paintings echoes Matisse's ethereal compositions, spreading out in horizontal constellations rather than linear perspective arrangements. Stone's words suggest that the desire to subvert traditional ways of painting is implicit: 'I am trying to flatten the separation between flatness and dimensions to achieve a greater, truly expressive space.' In a way, he is ok with the point at which language fails to describe the constellatory experience of his work.
Press release courtesy JARILAGER Gallery.
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