ALICE MAYHEW, AGED 5
Recent new work by the artist Alice Mayhew seems to have reignited several
ancient arguments about the meaning of life. In her painting The Rainbow,
Mayhew's work appears to concede that Plato's objectivity and interpretation
of a “good” life is a useful way of striving for a “better” life. In her own
words, “I love everyone! I am a good girl!”
But her use of primary colours and confident brush markings mostly lend her
work the optimism and zeal of the Pop Art movement, and we quickly realise
that Mayhew is not in the least interested in the philosophy of Plato. Her
cause is much greater - rather the potential of the world, as seen through
the things around her. In her own words: “Everything is magical!”
In this vibrant landscape, each meteorological phenomenon is represented in
harmony beside the next. The fluffy clouds drift across the sky. The sun
shines uninterrupted next to the clouds, and the rain, although everywhere,
does not dampen or dull the scene. Then there is the perfect rainbow, a
magical and intermittent by-product of sun and water. Her work suggests that
we all ought just to get along, as do the elements of nature. We also note a
healthy tree and golden flowers.
So what are we to make of this ideal landscape of love? Certainly, a perfect
vision of the world is a healthy target to aim for. Again, see Plato. But,
after careful consideration, the viewer may note a number of subtle
irregularities, tiny shifts in the way we have been taught to understand and
read the world. A rainbow with pink stripes? A rainbow with a spookily eerie
white void under its arc? Where is the land beyond the rainbow? Where is Oz?
Thus Mayhew's work is not about a perfect vision of the world, but concerned
with our dreams; how they manifest over our personal vision of the world,
and help us to form our individual Utopias.
Mayhew, with a keen eye for scientific detail, thinks rainbows should have
more pink. This may well have a lot to do with her love of ballet. But
really it's the subtext of her use of pink in the rainbow that we should be
considering: if there were indeed pink to be observed in rainbows, that
would necessitate a lower light frequency in the atmosphere to register it,
therefore smaller temperature variations and thus less global warming.
The Rainbow suggests that, to keep our collective dreams vital and in good
working order, we must be aware that we need to lessen greenhouse gases and
foster our dreams without losing sight of reality. And try to use the colour
pink as much as possible.
HOPE UNIVER, AGED 4
Evocative of the mythologically derived works of Picasso's Vollard Suite
(generally regarded as a high point of modern drawing and printmaking), the
work Cinderella and Her Ugly Sisters by Hope Univer teaches us that the
young are more morally balanced and passionate then we credit them.
Here, Univer re-creates the most horrific moment in the Cinderella story. In
Picasso's Minotaur, he compares himself and his creativity to the “untamable
beast”. Almost as wicked is the cruelty doled out by the nasty stepsisters
in Cinderella. In Univer's version we see them preparing to sweep away to
the Prince's ball in their fabulous gowns, leaving Cinderella to cry alone
in her desolation. Rare is the artist who can portray so well and
economically as Univer the pure evil that can live in the hearts of those in
search of riches, such as the sisters. Or the heartbreak on the face of
Cinderella at the prospect, not only of being left behind, but being taunted.
But Univer again references Picasso in the way that she treats Cinderella's
tormentors - with subtle irony. She has upgraded their outfits from the kind
of cheap polyester tat that one finds at Primark at Hallowe'en to
split-piece overdresses, evocative of Comme des Garçons. This modern, ironic
interpretation of misery (after all, the dresses would retail for thousands
today) is a reference to our bloated, consumer-based society that favours
well-dressed simpletons over the pure of heart.
The wilting baguette on Cinderella's head is an allusion to the wigs of
17th-century France, the so-called periwig or perruque allongée, and that
the poorly compensated workers who made them often survived for years on
bread alone, as Cinderella would have done had she not had the help of the
Fairly Godmother.
The reference is also a nod to Princess Leia's hairstyle in Star Wars, another
tortured woman with bread on her head (in this case a bagel on each side)
and a poignant reminder of the popularity within the movie industry of women
with bread for brains.
The artist's clean and sparse use of markings in her work alludes to the fact
that, like Picasso, she understands what is minimally required to make her
point. For example, in a recent conversation between the artist and her
mother, we have the following exchange.
Mum: “Carrots help you to see in the dark.”
Hope: “Mum, they don't. Torches do.”
So here we observe a child concerned with truth, but also with science and,
getting back to her choice of subject, freedom.
Unlike Cinderella (who was, if we are honest, just a very fortunate girl,
right place at the right time etc), Univer is saying with this work: let the
good people have some fun, ignore those with monstrous personas, and, for
God's sake, bring down the price of couture.
An intelligent and insightful work, Cinderella and Her Ugly Sisters holds up
to the light our societal values and necessitates the questioning of what is
right and wrong.
WILLIAM VILE, AGED 10
The daring colour and dramatic composition that characterise this work are
evocative of Paul Gauguin's earlier works, but where Gauguin was interested
in other artistic styles, William Vile, an artist working in Somerset, was
obviously interested in dinosaurs when he made this work at the age of 7. In
particular, one triceratops dinosaur named Dino.
In Lady in the Sun, we see a woman deep in thought, contemplating her splendid
life in the sun. The use of primary colour around the eyes seems arbitrary -
perhaps that was all they had on offer that day? But that is unlikely. Vile
uses those colours to infuse the image with a spiritual resonance of a
visionary kind. But the spirituality of this picture is not a sign of his
faith in organised religion. That the artist has chosen not to depict the
sun suggests that he is sceptical of the existence of an all-powerful God.
So what does Vile believe in? He is famous for his fascination with fossils
and dinosaurs, and like Salvador Dalí and his ever-present moustache, he is
seldom seen without Dino, the small brown stuffed triceratops that he finds
far more comforting than the presence of an imaginary being.
There is further evidence in Vile's belief in science over religion in Lady in
the Sun. The blue diagonal markings in the picture are presented in exactly
the same Pantone colour as Doctor Who's Tardis (of which, incidentally, the
artist has a vast album of collector's cards). Thus the artist's interest in
Doctor Who is further evidence of his interest in time, and the likelihood
that there is quite a lot of it. If the world were only 5,600 years old, the
artist seems to say, Doctor Who would not have much use for a time machine.
And also, if the world were only 5,600 years old, as evangelists would have
us believe, why are there fossils of dinosaurs everywhere, hmmm?
What of the grizzly orange colouring to the left of the blue markings? It is
merely a sign that the artist was getting hungry and had a craving for one
of his favourite foods, pork scratchings, said also to have been a favourite
of Gauguin.
Lady in the Sun, therefore, is concerned with Darwinian evolution and the
individual's place in the space-time continuum. The woman is thinking with
her eyes closed. Knowledge of Vile's other interests means we must interpret
this as a sign that the artist values science and reading over fantasy. A
work of warmth and generosity, its only flaw is the insinuation that pork
scratchings are high-quality.
Kinbote's Bespoke Art Commentary Service costs from £130,
www.kinbotescommentary.com
Haha, that's very funny and actually quite a clever idea! Would be nice to see the other pictures though.....
Oh, and I wonder if anybody actually ever has ordered such a commentary on their kids' drawings....?
Matt Turner, Brighton, England
Haven't enjoyed anything so much since reading The Pooh Perplex, but we do need to Hope and William's pictures.
Maddy, Brunswick, Australia
This is tremendous fun - but please can we see Hope's and William's pictures?
Sue B, Ynysybwl, Pontypridd, Wales