Clive Head

Direct from the artist's studio

Clive Head on Lily of the Lower East Side:

'Lily of the Lower East Side is the second painting to be completed in a new body of work begun earlier this year. Through this new work I am exploring an approach to realist painting which draws upon my earlier urban landscapes and more recent developments into visionary figuration and cubism. A realist painting, by its nature, must convince the viewer of its believability; that the world which exists within the frame could be entered, its spaces explored, its surfaces touched, and the air breathed. This is so much more than a configuration of symbols to be read. Its space is real and in parallel with our own reality. It operates and reassures the viewer on degrees of likeness, and conversely, can arrest the viewer on degrees of unlikeness. This is the terrain of realisms that have been variously described as magical, metaphysical or hyper and where I would cite this new body of work. The line between recognition and divergence, certainty and uncertainty, the actual and the fictive.

The full title of this painting is Lily of the Lower East Side, (For Philip Evergood with Love). I have made a number of paintings that have been overtly dedicated to artists who have been important in their creation. Complex figurative and realist painting cannot happen in a vacuum. It is always a consequence of art history as much as my own invention. But I have come to think of certain, particular works as “postcards” offered with love and thanks to the remarkable creative spirit of others. There may be a thread of style, philosophy or narrative that ties the painting to another point in art history. Thoughts of Evergood’s painting Lily and the Sparrows gained momentum as I began to introduce the birds in the latter stages of a preparatory drawing. Philip Evergood was an extraordinary painter of the American scene during the interwar period. He was so much more than the social realist that he is typically labelled as. Fiercely independent, he rejected the conventions of academic figuration (and the illustrational realism so ubiquitous amongst his fellow painters), to find a compelling naivety that is both haunting and funny. To me, his humanism is touching without being sentimental.'