The world is globalized, in a way unified, but at the same time brutally polarized. Such polarization means that each of us feels or is seen as part of a larger group, to the point that our individuality evaporates in the crowd. I’ve been thinking about this peculiar aspect of pack behaviour in recent years, and if I didn’t already like Patrick H. Jones' new body of work at Duarte Sequeira Gallery in Seoul for their visual and technical appeal, their subject matter would definitely seal the deal for me.
So, the first thing that attracted me was a color palette dominated by deep reds, the kind that hits straight into the nerve of human fleshiness. Often used to create a vast negative space around puzzling scenes, this color is frequently interrupted by stripes, polka dots, or diamond patterns. Now, I’m gonna get to the meaning of those, but all these elements are built with rugged surfaces on which the thick layers of paint have been applied and then scraped off. Allowing the imagery to fade into the background, this effect adds depth to the scenes and suggests a more spiritual or surreal ambience.
And once we’re set in this sphere, Jones is taking things pretty far. And personally, I love it! What we first recognize as the everyday crowd is built of white-collar workers blending with other, more unusual suspects, with their ties (stripes) serving as buffers of sorts. Whether at the swimming pool, in an ambiguous interior, or out in the open, we frequently notice juggling harlequins, or clowns hanging among them (patterns). Symbolizing disguise and performance, they represent the extremes to which the crowd can shift our real identity. With other “normal” characters around them showing expressions of surprise, fear, anguish, or just plain numbness, these works are strong visualizations of how the crowd absorbs individuality, personal responsibility, and, in the most extreme cases, rational thinking. The kind of moments when we ask ourselves the Pixies question, “Where is my mind?” —Saša Bogojev
