Eugene Magowan’s works make masterful use of colour, but their strongest point has to be their textural complexity. Some of the works are built up, layered, scoured and moulded so much that they seem more like sculptures than paintings. A gallery attendant informed me that on opening night, many people were trying to touch the paintings – and this doesn’t surprise me. These tactile surfaces scream at you to run your hands over them.
I glided round the exhibition in awe. When another visitor approached me towards the end, and asked me what I thought of the works, I gushed out words of appraisal. The man smiled, and said “I’m glad you think so. I’m the artist.” I stayed and chatted to him for a while – asking a few questions about his work. I’m informed that although Magowan’s art is abstract, all his works use reality as a starting point – whether they’re inspired by the Irish obsession with land, the dizzying construction boom of the Celtic Tiger, or more personal subjects such as the death of his father (‘The Dying of the Light’).
A few of the works are also inspired by stained glass. I smiled when he told me this, and asked him whether the two works titled ‘Portal’ were amongst these, as my first thought upon seeing them was of exactly that. They were. Sometimes abstract art is like a joke: if it needs to be explained to you, it isn’t very good. Although you might not know precisely what inspired the piece, an attuned art critic should (almost intuitively, at times) be able to pick up on points of reference; conjured emotions or concepts; the ‘essence’ of the work, that can be so hard to put into words. After all, in the words of Francis Bacon*, “if I could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint.”
Upon leaving, I was given a poster for the exhibition, signed by Magowan. I wrapped it in my scarf, to protect it from the drizzle that looked set to season my walk home. A few hundred metres down the road, drizzle turned into monsoon-like rain, so I broke into a sprint – attracting a few confused glances as I bounded down the street, mascara streaming down my face, clutching a cylindrical object wrapped in a scarf. Thankfully, I don’t live far from the exhibition, but needless to say I’ll skip the gym tonight – instead sitting in, drinking lots of tea, and perhaps scheming up cunning plans to raise two or three grand, so I can buy a REAL Magowan painting….
The poster, however, looks lovely for now.
*Eugene cited Francis Bacon as the source of this quote, however Google tells me Edward Hopper said it. Either way, it’s so true!
Rosa Abbott is an arts, fashion and culture obsessive originating from Yorkshire, England, and currently living in Dublin, Ireland. On top of being a student at the illustrious Trinity College, she is a freelance journalist, writing for a number of Irish publications, and also edits the visual arts section of entertainment magazine Totally Dublin.
When she’s not up to her eyeballs in writing, Rosa works as an assistant to stylist Aisling Farinella and volunteers at various art galleries. Her musings on life, style and art can also be found over at her blog, Too Gallant.
