Three Works by Gretchen Albrecht
by Kim Atherfold
It was in this little group that Albrecht's passion and art come together with the greatest force and sensitivity, especially in relation to the power of paint to evoke certain feelings and emotional states, most of which are identifiable but not easily explained. Gains and Losses - My Father - Red 1998, Meditation for My Father 1998 and, In Memory of My Father - Winter 1999 make up the group. However, the latter was easily the most powerful and provocative and seems to be the natural conclusion to the other two, especially if viewed as some sort of progression from mere/pure grief and pain delivered at the hands of death to another level, where the individual attempts to reconcile loss to their own life and peculiar suffering. In this realm of personal loss the individual realises that the force and nature of the love which defined the relationship is thrown into relief by death. The two conditions are co-existent or self reflective; love is heightened by the possibility or actuality of death, and death brings to the fore the peculiar nature and strength of love, with its natural associations of passion and attachment.
The three canvases as a group evoke these natural associations arising from the dual notions of love and death. This contrast is symbolised in the constrained use of deep red and black in the first two ovals (with the "natural" associations we draw from the colour red in blood, passion, love and even anger) against the moody subdued use of black and blue in In Memory of My Father - Winter 1999, where we are transported to another realm incorporating "other" aspects of life coming to the surface in the confusing aftermath of death. We are put in mind of Mark Rothko's ability to evoke a sense of "other world experience" as one looks into the colour, the full force of which is initially, elusive and shifting. We focus on the dark, murky centre; an abyss transporting us to a possible world of unconscious experience, where grimly, the infinity of death and its aftermath loss or nothingness lie in wait.
The peculiar nature of this experience as it manifests in these works might best be explained in Lacanian terms. For Lacan the unconscious is not a private insular region of the brain cut off from the external world of relationships, rather it exists "between" us as part of the relationships we develop with other humans and society in general. Therefore, taking the formal elements of the works and accompanying titles alone, it is possible to acknowledge in these works a sense of the unconscious as an arcane region, at once beyond us (in the sense that we cannot control or understand it) but intricately linked to who and what we are; teeming with neverending sequences of thoughts and experience, the nature of which are impossible to link ultimately to beginnings and ends, yet all of which are powerful indicators of the nature of our relationships. The unconscious "... is elusive not so much because it is buried deep within our minds, but because it is a vast, tangled network which surrounds us and weaves itself through us, and which can therefore never be pinned down."
As much as anything, the force of this effect is derived from the manner in which Albrecht has applied the paint and the gnawing absence of clear colour; dispersed blackness inviting and repelling involvement. This impression is not as evident in the red and black canvases where it is difficult to see into the void, instead we attempt to find a pathway through the solid swirling mass of black paint, which is ironically bridged by the cross, but only on two sides, therefore providing a metaphorically tenuous pass. While all three canvases suggest mystery and concealment, the first two canvases have not exposed the void in quite the same way as it is manifest in In Memory of my Father - Winter 1999. Here the paint is gathered in a splattered coil around the edges hovering above, and yet forming the entrance to the abyss. There is a sense of the power of centripetal force compelling the paint into this random pattern, at once a metaphor for the power of life and death to confuse, and the very randomness of death and love to strike, leaving us helpless in its wake. It is at the interstices of conscious and unconscious existence, and having to strike a balance between the two that moves us closer and closer to the brink of absolute confusion on one hand and clarity and enlightenment on the other. This sense of falling into the centre; seeing or experiencing nothingness, seems subtly different as each oval is experienced, but just as we withdraw from that experience we realise the full force of the cross. In the three works the crosses are wedged, teetering on the brink of the abyss, bridging the gap, both a comfort from and a warning against the dark moody never ending void.
There is a sense that the cross is under the same force as the underlying surface, the two seem like different entities which have been forced together. The thick dense oil cross-wedged in sharp contrast across the indistinct blackness below as it is forced to concede to the power of the oval, and perversely also the power of the sweep of paint. Thus a compelling/galvanising tension is set up between the prosaic artifact and its self referential status as a work of art, and its power to move, provoke and compel. At the end of the day it comes to us as cloth, paint and wood, but leaves us in a maze of past experience and tender nuances of loss, regret and love the nature of which we cannot fully articulate.
Albrecht claims her work is about balance and equilibrium, which is no less prevalent here, evident in the contrast between the solid nature and form of the cross (oil and shape) and the "nothingness" (muted inky blue acrylic) upon which it sits. It is possible to read a certain symbolism in the strength of the cross balanced fortress like against the void; memorable, stable and prominent against a swirling haze of the unknown or unthinkable. A platform allowing safe passage across the void. While these works seem fully shrouded in the mysteries of human experience, it is not possible to avoid religious connotations. The cross symbolises Christ's death, but here it also symbolises the human contacts surrounding that death. Jesus's suffering linked to Mary's, somehow linked to our own. The cross an outward expression of suffering set against the seething black hole; the incomprehensible, confusing part of the equation, expressing something inside us which is difficult to define, articulate and understand. Death is true in its finality and true in its ability to fully articulate the force and nature of love.
As a group these works are provocative, forcing us to consider the strange, yet natural oppositions in life. The three works vehemently assert passion, implicit not only in the symbolic juxtapositions of colour and theme, but in the method and application of paint, a medium in which the artist has a sensuous command. The point at which symbolic and material forces meet is the point at which Albrecht's passionate response is at its most powerful and forceful, and it is at this intersection that the viewer is confronted by the very personal nature of their own experiences and responses.
Bibliography
Afternature, Gretchen Albrecht, a survey of 23 years, 1986, Sarjeant Gallery, Wanganui.
Literary Theory, Terry Eagleton, 1992, Blackwell Publishers, London.
Gretchen Albrecht, Linda Gill, 1991, Random Century NZ Ltd.
Mark Rothko, National Gallery of Art, 1998, Yale University Press, Washington.