My paintings are the intersection of looking with a sensibility, or as Wallace Stevens put it: “where nature and the imagination meet.”
Painting puts the world back together after the act of naming has pulled it apart. I aspire to paint my experience of looking at the world, but that requires a delicate balance of outward and inward looking. The world asserts its hidden rhythms, but these are hard to describe or put in words because painting is a preverbal language. Naming forms does not help. Those hidden rhythms are what thrill our hearts when we look out, and which the photos we take inevitably fail to convey: our deepest mysteries of looking— the rhythm of our origins—birth, death, the eternal return—when it’s just a view of a meadow and a few buildings.
To accurately convey the complexity of looking is a form of bearing witness to one’s world and time.
--Mark Andres
Painting puts the world back together after the act of naming has pulled it apart. I aspire to paint my experience of looking at the world, but that requires a delicate balance of outward and inward looking. The world asserts its hidden rhythms, but these are hard to describe or put in words because painting is a preverbal language. Naming forms does not help. Those hidden rhythms are what thrill our hearts when we look out, and which the photos we take inevitably fail to convey: our deepest mysteries of looking— the rhythm of our origins—birth, death, the eternal return—when it’s just a view of a meadow and a few buildings.
To accurately convey the complexity of looking is a form of bearing witness to one’s world and time.
--Mark Andres
