Stoneware with cobalt pigment under clear glaze
H: 8.0 W: 11.6 cm
Tarpaulin No. 3, 1975
Canadian, 1923 - 2008
gesso, pastel, chalk, and charcoal on canvas with metal grommets and rope
231 x 293.5 cm
National Gallery of Canada (no. 18532)
© Betty Goodwin
Betty Goodwin has said of her use of worn, mended, and weathered tarpaulins that “they retain their own history, to which I add my own history.” Folding and re-folding the tarpaulins and infusing them with substances like gesso, she adds her own layer of meaning to their surfaces without denying their unknowable pasts.
I think, here is your emblem
To hang in the future sky;
Not the cross, not the hive,
But this; bright power, dark peace;
Fierce consciousness joined with final
Life with calm death; the falcon’s
Realist eyes and act
Married to the massive
Mysticism of stone,
Which failure cannot cast down
Nor success make proud.
Robinson Jeffers, from “Rock and Hawk”
via dark ecologies
The Offering, 2013
Polymer gypsum, fiberglass, steel, wood, plaster, gold leaf, pigment
65 1/4 x 58 1/2 x 3 1/2 inches
Luohan (Hungry Ghost) 2011, oil on linen, 32” by 28”.
William Scott (1913‑1989)
Winter Still Life
oil on canvas, 914 x 1524 mm, 1956. Collection of the Tate.
"The regular grid makes its ambition clear: It means to cover everything. The irregular grid admits failure from the start. It appears repeatedly, for instance, in the cinema of Andrei Tarkovsky — idiosyncratic collections of art prints and objects appear in Solaris, The Mirror and Stalker. The irregular grid is like an extended hand, grasping at a torrent of images, each meaningful in its moment, and most of them lost in the end. The creator of the irregular grid has a strong sense of tragedy. He recognizes that his ambition is doomed, that completeness is outside the scope of the fallible mind, and perhaps of the nature of systems themselves.”