If you (like I do) have an unreasonably strange relationship with works on paper, Jonathan Wateridge’s solo No Longer, Not Yet - Paintings on Paper, which just opened at GRIMM in Amsterdam, is a lesson you didn’t know you needed. Featuring works on paper and one large showstopper of a painting for context and good balance, the exhibition presents fresh views of his ever-expanding, yet coherent universe of ominous domestic vistas.
Knowing this show is focused on works on paper, I ignorantly expected them to be sort of studies, rougher depictions of his archetypal scenes of people in a reclusive residential setting. But at first glance, it is obvious that they are their own distinctive body of work. His cut-out-like silhouette characters made from bold painterly gestures and detached from their surrounding w thick outlines still dominate the scenes. But with frequent use of landscape orientation, a richer color palette, and more detailed renditions, they feel more photographic, if not cinematic. And this idea seems to be the core quality of this series, and is somehow conveyed, without going into the whole realism sphere.
Sure, each of these can be imagined as a painting on canvas, but I can’t help but feel they would fall short. And this is because Wateridge is using the paper not only for its distinct material behavior but also for its overall appearance. By wiping off painted layers, he creates velutinous, velvety surfaces that absorb paint differently from canvas, adding softness to the image. This is further intensified by the white spray haze applied over the image, mimicking its grain or fading. All of that, together with framing and even the glass shine, gives these snapshots of observed everyday life the presence of a family photo. And presented throughout a former canal-side apartment in the center of Amsterdam, they feel like memories of what Wateridge described as “aspirations of western life with a knife through it.” —Saša Bogojev
