You are of blacks and whites, of greys, of midtones
Of chaos, of angles, of light and shadows
You are unclear, yet crisp and deliberate
Of strong form and structure
And of none at all
But you are staged, I can see you are stated
With a twist of fate though?
Of that I’m unsure
You have accidents, happy ones
Where dimensions interact
This studio is alive
You make me feel interested, curious
Inviting me in to spot a detail in the mess
Like a gem amongst a jumble
You cheer me up, make me smile
But in a kind of awkward way
Wait – is this a life drawing session?
Is it real?
Is that your point? To geometrify an activity
of soft wibbley forms?
To distort, to block, to cube, to confuse
and surprise me?
The first, unedited draft of a 10-minute written critique, viewing a (very!) unclear image of Avery Singers ‘The Studio’ within Feral Art Schools short Painting course. Image sourced here.