Recently I visited two exhibitions at Mahara Gallery, ‘Daily Kāpiti, Joanna Margaret Paul.’ and ‘Frances Hodgkins and British modernism 1920-1935’
The pairing of these exhibitions in adjacent gallery spaces was a well-considered move. The work of these women has strong similarities in spirit and technique.
Walking into the Joanna Paul room there is an immediate sense of stillness and peace. Entering the exhibition, there is a panel written by Gary Freemantle in which he describes Paul as ‘finding significance in everyday places and ordinary things’.
The works, which are predominantly landscapes, are gentle and unpretentious. The colour palette is muted and lines are sensitive and indicative. Most works are small, giving a sense of brief, direct glimpses into Paul’s daily experiences. Only the most essential lines are used, and the quiet power of these works comes from leaving the viewer to fill in the blanks. They feel domestic, familiar, relatable. Paul often uses coloured pencil or gouache, materials that are frequently used for children’s work rather than highly finished commercial pieces and the result is a sense of directness and honesty.
One wall is filled with views of Paekākāriki. They are quiet, contemplative and intimate. It is tempting to see Paul’s work as naive and unsophisticated, but in these her mastery of composition and subtlety of palette tells another story. The artist knows exactly what she is doing. The freshness, simplicity and accessibility are no accident.
That Paul was also a poet is no surprise. Her pared back but acute observation has a poetic quality. Her work shows a confidence in the value of process rather than creating a ‘finished piece’. Her process is evident and easy to relate to, and this creates a feeling of connection with the artist as well as her subjects.
Passing through the Paul exhibition into the gallery showing ‘Frances Hodgkins and British modernism 1920-1935’ the first thing to strike me was that the exhibitions flow seamlessly into one another. There is a continuity of quiet reflection, focus on the everyday, and palettes muted in both colour and tone.
In Hodgkins’ work you can feel that she is actively pushing boundaries and breaking with tradition. In her still lives in particular we can feel the influence of Picasso and Cubism, Matisse and Post Impressionist abstraction. She actively rejects grand themes in favour of a more direct, personal response to immediate experience. Paul has absorbed these aesthetics into her own work to the extent that degrees of minimalism, abstraction and focus on the ordinary flow from her work without a sense of effort. They are integral.
The first wall on the left shows a series of Hodgkins’ watercolours. Markets, ports, and beaches give a feeling of slowed time. Movement of shadows, waiting sailboats, the patience of stallholders and still water. ‘Painting class on the beach’ shows a group of artists at work. The shape of a back hunched over and wrapped up against the wind, other figures bent over with absolute focus on their work, the model in her bathing suit looking a little bored and forlorn. Each of these is brought to life with clean lines, shapes and shadows in a medium that doesn’t allow for mistakes. You can’t rub out, adjust or paint over with this style of watercolour. This is an artist in her flow, her mastery unmistakeable. Every mark and brush stroke has purpose, and this is true of the whole wall of watercolours.
Hodgkin’s chalk drawing ‘Trees’ makes exquisite and flawless use of line, shape and pattern. This fluid skill is a contrast to the hesitancy of ‘Niobe/ Niobe 2’ by Paul, tree drawings with a much lighter touch.
Alongside the work of Hodgkins are pieces by some of the best of the British Modernists of the 20’s and 30’s.
Ivor Hitchen’s ‘Flower piece’ stands out among the still lives for its immediacy and vitality. Other still lives in the room are, for me, less engaging works. They show the self-conscious effort of a style while not yet being in flow with the new way of working. The sense of ‘trying’ creates something stilted.
John Piper’s ‘Black Head’ is a still life with nods to Picasso and Braque, but also hints of his work to come in stained glass and tapestry. The broad stripe of intense colour in the top corner like a window within the picture could almost belong to Howard Hodgkin.
Christopher Wood’s ‘The Jockey’ drew me in, strong, direct, saying as much as possible with as little as possible, it sums up the way this room is full of simplified shapes and shadows, and reduction to the essential.
All told, the room is full of treasures and surprises. An Alfred Wallace ‘two-master and fishing fleet’ is a joy. An unexpected Len Lye gives out playful exuberance. I found it a room that would be easy to spend a long time in. I left feeling soul-fed, slowed down, and grateful to have this gallery in our district.
