Laura Newman’s color has always been sweet but brittle, and in her new work she moves away from overt architectural references and linear perspective to let the seemingly casual color shapes pulsate, gnash, and hover, like the pigeons she watches outside her Williamsburg studio. Newman writes in her statement that “…depending upon the time of day, the birds look like holes in the
fabric of the sky, or firework displays, but in reality they are
participants in a competitive game in which each flock’s owner tries to
capture members of another flock by confusing them into returning to the
wrong home.” Like the birds, Newman’s clever paintings, some uncharacteristically small for an artist who likes to work at a large, architectural scale, at first delight, then purposely confuse our expectations, leaving us to sort out the point of view, the enigmatic shapes, and the hints of narrative on our own. These paintings are a gentle reminder that things aren’t always as they seem.
Laura Newman, Touch, 2012, oil and acrylic on canvas, 72 x 56 inches.
Laura Newman, Eclipse, 2012, oil and acrylic on canvas, 56 x 72 inches
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