Convergence

I recently attended the opening of the Oliver Cornet Gallery in Temple Bar, at the invite of a friend who is working there. A tiny space, it was nowhere near large enough to contain the people that spilled out onto the street blocking the ocassional passing car, and mingling with the crowds from the pub across the street. despite the cheap wine, the art itself was surprisingly rich. For another small independent fine art gallery I wasn't expecting much, but several of the artists showcased in the group show 'Convergence' were strikingly original. Maybe its after spending several months working in a conservative private gallery, where the art mainly consists of biscuit tin landscapes and the buyers were mostly bankers and big business men in designer suits, but I had developed rather low expectations of the contemporary Irish art scene. It probably helps that Oliver Cornet himself is a spry little Frenchman, with an evident taste for the delicate and whimsical. Most of the work was small, delicate studies in abstract lines and organic forms, from the ceramic shells and vessels of Annika Berglund, to the planescapes and prints of Hanneke van Ryswyk. One standout though was Mark Doherty's colourful manga-inspired drawings. Definitely cool enough to appeal to a younger generation of art makers and lovers, his work is also skillfully executed and with enough contemporary cultural and artistic references to pack a theoretical punch.
"He seeks to create alternate worlds in which to satirize our own, allowing us to look at our foibles exaggerated and thus challenge them by laughing at ourselves. Through this framework, he builds narratives which address such diverse issues as body image, our view of the 'other' in society, urban social isolation, man's conflicted relationship with nature, and  society's newfound adoration of science, celebrity and material wealth, among other things."  http://www.olliart.com/

The comic strip like appearance encourages a narrative reading of his works, which often resemble posters or advertisements in Japanese fashion magazines. The images upon close inpection are all slightly warped or grotesque, with figures resembling robots or animals and the colourful patterns and designs make the pictures not so much joyful and appealing, as bad acid trip nightmare.

Suzy O'Mullane

Working in an art gallery in Dublin I keep hearing about Suzy O'Mullane and her scandalous-for-its-lack-of-scandal affair with Mick Mulcahy. It's strange to be eavesdropping on gossip about someone I knew growing up, as a friend of my mothers rather than as an artist, and pleasing to hear she is doing so well for herself in Ireland and abroad.
It's also made me re-evluate her as an artist rather than family friend, and address my own personal opinions of her art separate from my opinion of her as a person. Knowing more about her private life than her professional career makes that difficult, but I'm finding myself increasingly drawn to her work when it crops up in group shows or sits alongside other artists, most obviously Mick Mulcahy, whose art I never really understood what all the fuss was about. Suzy though has developed enormously since I last had contact with her work, which must have been nearly ten years ago. While she always had a flair for intense engaging portraits, her singular focus on life drawing, and the female form particularly seemed to restrain her somewhat. Then I remember going to an exhibition she held after the tragic death of her daughter Roisin, and being bowled over by the emotional intensity of the work, multiple portraits of her daughter and herself, strewn with miniature pink rosebuds to signify her daughters name, they were allegorical as well as realistic, and added an extra layer of complexity to her bold outlines and strong, confident marks. Since then her work has been rife with animal imagery, most notably wolves and while women still dominate as subjects, they are less studied portraits of individuals than metaphorical symbols of emotion. She herself makes the connection between her own personal tragedy and an unleashing of artistic growth:
"Since 2004, during a time of massive personal crisis and subsequent growth, my work began to emerge dramatically from its formal reality, and its concern with observation and architectural space.”..."Thus, the central concept of the current work is a recording, narrating and mythifying of autobiographical events and issues of personal significance. Through intensely worked charcoal drawings, sometimes using paint and oil crayon on paper, the intention of the work is to convey emotional and sometimes metaphysical connection, as well as absurd hypothetical situations. Humans and animals have interchangeable roles, and are devoid of accepted markers.”

Your Hair Veils My Eyes

Even her portraits have gained a depth of feeling and intensity, with their palimpsest quality of thickly worked up lines left un-erased, showing the physical labour invested in her work.

Roses

Cold Bride