As I already mentioned in the first review, Deborah Paris aims at completeness of the viewing experience. Her marine scenes offer exactly that: the artist employs the relatively limited genre inventory to the fullest. Her template of sea paintings consists of a three leveled composition, with some loud action occurring on the forefront, the sea stretching above and beyond and the sky overlooking solemnly from above. This basic set-up captures the major nature’s ways of showing itself — a disaster, a constant movement and displacement (of water, sand, people) and a serene, meta-calm rest which, in fact, to many may appear the most threatening and portending state of them all.
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Having little to no knowledge of the technical side of painting snow, I would guess that the substance poses at least two creative problems. First, white seems counter-intuitive and restrictive in terms of main palette choice — just by being a “colorless” color. When covering wide spaces, white may confuse, possibly repel the viewer; negative space becomes exaggeratedly such, complicating visual comprehension. Second is the color’s (and snow’s) inherent susceptibility to the influence of other hues: it presents a clean slate that any other color can contaminate. Therefore, snow asks for special care and consideration, adding another sensitive variable to the artist’s set of existent challenges. So let’s examine how she copes with these two.
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Deborah Paris is an American landscape painter, working in oil and pastel. You will find many digital reproductions of her canvases on her website; latest pieces are being exhibited on her blog. Deborah Paris is represented by several galleries, Ernest Fuller Fine Art (artist bio page) being one of them.
The artist works in a variety of settings, evidently aiming at diversity, and avoiding the common pitfalls of genre painting. She does not repeat herself, but quotes; does not stand still thematically, but seeks new challenges. As a result, her oeuvre presents a rich and thorough monograph on the local landscape. For this review I have chosen the several autumnal dusky works that could, when combined, constitute a series. I like these because the brush records pristine air and evokes a tenderness of mood, with a dash of sadness. The colors compose a visual adagio that sneaks up upon the audience, softly lulling it into an evening, eyes-half-closed phase.
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