Exhibitions
Auckland
Michael Smither Here & Now
Artis Gallery, 9–29 November MICHAEL DUNN Painted in his early eighties, Michael Smither’s recent show, Here & Now, has a freshness and energy in both its conception and execution that is surprising in what he has called ‘the paintings of my old age’. He makes the New Zealand landscape take on an intensity of colour and mood that demands our attention and requires us to rethink our relationship with somewhat familiar subject matter.
These works are not fussy or bogged down with detail. Instead Smither paints with great breadth and boldness of execution, in some cases with slashes of pigment, as we see in Rain Squall, Kennedy Bay, or the vibrant blue and white Peninsula Rain Squall. This approach is very different from the high finish and precision of much of his earlier landscape painting. The paintings appear to have been executed quickly in a burst of inspiration but have the assurance of a lifetime’s artistic practice behind them.
The colouristic dimension of the works is noteworthy; the palette of varied blues, acid green and sulphurous yellow is distinctive. He gets away from monochrome even in the shadows which resonate with dark ochre or deep blues that contrast with the lighter colours of sea and sky. In several works, such as Kennedy Bay and Motuhua, the sky has become an eye-catching yellow that relates more to Gauguin than the local landscape tradition. Based on nature, Smither’s works are not strictly naturalistic; they show his response to the landscape rather than record it literally.
All these paintings are landscapes, most in the narrow format of the panorama, giving an extended view.
They recall in this respect the strip landscapes of colonial artists who drew landforms in silhouette on board ship. We look at the land from a distance and at eye level. The locations given by name on the Coromandel Peninsula are of remote places like Ōtama and Motuhua. Smither shows no people and few signs of intervention by them. The impression is of a stark, somewhat inaccessible terrain of rock and hills with the sea as a barrier between us and the shore. His paintings are based on direct observation rather than photographs and are sourced in the small rapidly executed pencil sketches he makes while walking along the beach or undulating foreshore. There are some of these drawings in the show, restricted to a few lines and hatchings, that capture the essence of the landscape with immediacy and conviction. Strokes of the pencil evoke rain and wind while darker tones indicate shadows cast by swirling clouds. He draws and paints the restless curves, dips and rocky projections of the Coromandel landscape with unerring skill.
Despite the spontaneous feeling of the paintings, on analysis they have been carefully constructed. Smither aligns us with straight horizontal strips of sea that run from one side of each work to the other. Behind the sea he arranges the hills and rocky outcrops in profile so that we can make out their distinctive shapes. Although lighting effects, clouds and mist help animate the works, there is an even focus that requires us to view the imagery laterally, from one side to the other.
In most cases there are no framing devices to close off the view which clearly extends on either side. It is as if the view we have is only one of many others that are equally important if we keep walking and keep looking.
Smither’s landscapes
