Present
Everest Hall’s paintings are animated by classical tropes dynamically turned inside out. When looking at these pictures one encounters archetypes presented with a seemingly straightforward purity. We see a flower, a candle, a skull, in fact, we see the idea of trompe l’oeil itself.
However, as we continue to look at these pictures, perhaps admiring the hand of the artist, we notice that each of these elemental ideas will shimmer, turn, and suddenly reveal the glittering ribs of its construction. Each painting in Hall’s body of work has a moment where, like an umbrella inverting in a strong gust of wind, the skeleton becomes exoskeleton and the idea becomes alive.
Formal mastery, of a kind rarely matched among contemporary artists, forms the foundation of Hall’s work. However this mastery has exceeded a mere demonstration of skill and has become effortless-- it has become light. This formal command gives the wit of these paintings bite and their beauty resonance.
Hall likes to present pairs of ideas, not necessarily opposite, but containing some tension in their coupling that is irresolvable and leads to visual and conceptual excitement. For example, in “Pink Flair” Hall combines an ultimate gesture of deconstruction (revealing the stretcher bars of the painting) with meticulous trompe l’oeil (the stretchers are an illusionistic painting-- in fact revealing nothing) to create a picture which is witty and refreshing.
In “Black Medusa” this type of wit is employed again. A tee shirt printed with images of skulls hangs on a thread hung across a blank canvas. The illusion of fabric hanging in space is flawless-- though we know immediately this is another of the artist's illusions. In fact, the illusions continue to multiply. The tee shirt printed with skulls is an “image” not a three dimensional object, but then it also occurs to us that the canvas itself is in fact “an image.” It is a depiction of a canvas merely studiously constructed to appear blank and not actually a background at all. Here the still life is made conceptually vigorous by making the very fabric (literally) of the canvas a transformed element of the image.
In “Dissident Aggressor” Hall paints in the foreground a pile of folded shirts, each printed with an elaborate painted scene. In the background a perfect blue ring floats like an element from a Kenneth Noland painting. The contrast of hyperrealist representation and abstraction is surprisingly not jarring. Rather, Hall somehow synthesizes the two image vocabularies and in the end the effect is harmonious. In this world of extreme illusion contrasted with complete formal honesty we realize that foreground and background actually have been made completely indistinguishable from each other.
The Moon series brings a note of romantic emotion into the work, emotion which is tempered by twenty first century style and sophistication: the Moon against black, the Moon against polychromatic tiles, the Moon in front of a trompe l’oiel vortex. All of these bring to mind the moon’s poetic themes-- unrequited love, poetry, and eternity (which is another name for death). Treatment of these powerful themes could easily become cloying, but Hall’s deadpan presentation, combined with the exquisite way he paints every crater on the moon, bring a plaintive beauty to these lunar meditations that is completely unsentimental.
In contrast to The Moon Hall also incorporates another natural element in his work: The Rainbow. “Eclipse” combines the idea of moon and rainbow in a picture that flickers between abstraction and psychedelic sexiness. But Hall’s rainbows come more from the history of color field painting than from any referent in nature. “Moondog” is a particularly lovely example of the spectrum of light presented in its archetypal, almost metaphysical, structure.
Hall is an artist of great synthesis-- equipped with formal mastery and an erudition concerning visual history the artist’s voice comes out palpably in the work. In Hall’s work wit, sensibility, and an ironic but emotional consideration of the sublime combine to create pictures of remarkable refinement and depth.
Max Fierst
New York City
However, as we continue to look at these pictures, perhaps admiring the hand of the artist, we notice that each of these elemental ideas will shimmer, turn, and suddenly reveal the glittering ribs of its construction. Each painting in Hall’s body of work has a moment where, like an umbrella inverting in a strong gust of wind, the skeleton becomes exoskeleton and the idea becomes alive.
Formal mastery, of a kind rarely matched among contemporary artists, forms the foundation of Hall’s work. However this mastery has exceeded a mere demonstration of skill and has become effortless-- it has become light. This formal command gives the wit of these paintings bite and their beauty resonance.
Hall likes to present pairs of ideas, not necessarily opposite, but containing some tension in their coupling that is irresolvable and leads to visual and conceptual excitement. For example, in “Pink Flair” Hall combines an ultimate gesture of deconstruction (revealing the stretcher bars of the painting) with meticulous trompe l’oeil (the stretchers are an illusionistic painting-- in fact revealing nothing) to create a picture which is witty and refreshing.
In “Black Medusa” this type of wit is employed again. A tee shirt printed with images of skulls hangs on a thread hung across a blank canvas. The illusion of fabric hanging in space is flawless-- though we know immediately this is another of the artist's illusions. In fact, the illusions continue to multiply. The tee shirt printed with skulls is an “image” not a three dimensional object, but then it also occurs to us that the canvas itself is in fact “an image.” It is a depiction of a canvas merely studiously constructed to appear blank and not actually a background at all. Here the still life is made conceptually vigorous by making the very fabric (literally) of the canvas a transformed element of the image.
In “Dissident Aggressor” Hall paints in the foreground a pile of folded shirts, each printed with an elaborate painted scene. In the background a perfect blue ring floats like an element from a Kenneth Noland painting. The contrast of hyperrealist representation and abstraction is surprisingly not jarring. Rather, Hall somehow synthesizes the two image vocabularies and in the end the effect is harmonious. In this world of extreme illusion contrasted with complete formal honesty we realize that foreground and background actually have been made completely indistinguishable from each other.
The Moon series brings a note of romantic emotion into the work, emotion which is tempered by twenty first century style and sophistication: the Moon against black, the Moon against polychromatic tiles, the Moon in front of a trompe l’oiel vortex. All of these bring to mind the moon’s poetic themes-- unrequited love, poetry, and eternity (which is another name for death). Treatment of these powerful themes could easily become cloying, but Hall’s deadpan presentation, combined with the exquisite way he paints every crater on the moon, bring a plaintive beauty to these lunar meditations that is completely unsentimental.
In contrast to The Moon Hall also incorporates another natural element in his work: The Rainbow. “Eclipse” combines the idea of moon and rainbow in a picture that flickers between abstraction and psychedelic sexiness. But Hall’s rainbows come more from the history of color field painting than from any referent in nature. “Moondog” is a particularly lovely example of the spectrum of light presented in its archetypal, almost metaphysical, structure.
Hall is an artist of great synthesis-- equipped with formal mastery and an erudition concerning visual history the artist’s voice comes out palpably in the work. In Hall’s work wit, sensibility, and an ironic but emotional consideration of the sublime combine to create pictures of remarkable refinement and depth.
Max Fierst
New York City
