“I have a strange longing for the great simple primeval things, such as the sea, to me no less of a mother than the Earth. It seems to me that we all look at Nature too much, and live with her too little.” Oscar Wilde, De Profundis

Simple and Strange is a new, experimental series of intimate oil paintings. This series explores inner emotional worlds by juxtaposing figures with the Newfoundland landscape, focusing on how the ordinary and everyday become strange when viewed through the prism of human emotion.

While the title serves as a grace note in referring to the recurring theme of paradox that runs throughout my work--the relationships between the real and the ideal, the viewer and the viewed, freedom and inhibition, public consumption and privacy, reason and intuition--it primarily alludes to a common theme in the works of Oscar Wilde. In his letters to G.H. Kersley and Herbert Horne, Wilde mentions the concept of simplicity and strangeness both in reference to his own fairy tales and in his encouraging remarks to Horne, a young poet. What does it mean to me as an artist? It is a reminder to myself not to overthink; rather, to allow and embrace whatever imagery my imagination presents to me, no matter how strange it may seem.

As a figurative oil painter, I usually observe others. Now, I turn my gaze inward. Depth, rather than breadth, is my focus. The Newfoundland landscape around me is seeping into my subconscious, becoming an effective way to represent emotions. Rather than seeking out new experiences, I want this work to go deep in the metaphorical ocean, where the strangest fish make their home.

This project is inspired and informed by many sources. In addition to Oscar Wilde, I am particularly inspired by the works and life of Daphne du Maurier. Both authors share a literary interest in the gothic, a fascination with the duality of human nature, and a lived experience of queer relationships and dual lives and personae.

As a teen, du Maurier fell in love with Menabilly, an estate in Cornwall, which later became her home, creative haven, and the setting for some of her works. I am fascinated by her intense bond with this physical location, and examine my own relationship with place--both my house itself and the greater landscape of Conception Bay North and the island of Newfoundland. I am also fascinated by du Maurier’s “boy” alter ego, Eric Avon, who allowed her to access some of her creative forces and tap into the deepest parts of her heart. To me, it poses the question: what rituals, personae, or practices does one need to employ in order to access their own creative muse?

As for Wilde’s muse, he was struck by John Addington Symonds’ 1882 sonnet sequence “L’Amour de L’Impossible” which secretly expresses Symonds’ desire for sexual relationships with men, using the figure of the Chimera as an image of forbidden desire. Wilde happened upon this work and would later use the phrase l’amour de l’impossible, as an oblique reference to homosexual relationships between men. This concept of the chimera as a code for queerness is evident in other authors as well. For example, the Canadian author Ann-Marie MacDonald uses it in her 2022 novel Fayne, a book that made a lasting impression on me. In Fayne, for the main character, the chimera represents the possibility of existing in her full complexity and humanity. The novel begins around year 1887, and is set in the same timeframe as Wilde's adult life.

Merriam-Webster defines a “chimera” as “1.a capitalized: a fire-breathing she-monster in Greek mythology having a lion's head, a goat's body, and a serpent's tail; b: an imaginary monster compounded of incongruous parts; 2: an illusion or fabrication of the mind especially: an unrealizable dream”. This concept, connected to Wilde and MacDonald’s work, guides my own work in multiple ways.

First, I interpret the Chimera as female power, ugliness, and anger. This is personally relevant as I depart from more traditional representational work into a surreal and uncanny visual world. It is also a way of honouring my full humanity, positive and negative. Our culture prizes female beauty and acquiescence, denying traits which are human, but seen as inappropriate for women. Indeed, it can come as a shock to men in particular that women even experience the same things as they do.  In this aspect, the Chimera serves as a reminder to paint honestly all aspects of my internal life, even those that may be deemed unacceptable by others.

Second, the idea of the Chimera as “an imaginary monster compounded of incongruous parts” speaks to me in the construction of these works. In a departure from my previous approach, I am working primarily from imagination, using references minimally and only as needed. I pull in visual imagery that serves the otherworldly environment I want to cultivate, and deliberately juxtapose incongruous elements (for example, the eyes in the ocean in “Grief Yet to Come”). Imagination, incongruence, and paradox release me from the need to have a painting make logical sense, and place more value on emotional truth and resonance.

Finally, viewing the Chimera as an “illusion or fabrication of the mind especially: an unrealizable dream” resonates on multiple levels. I see it as the artist’s paradox of the tension between personal artistic vision and the demands of the art market or public perception, and the conflicting traits an artist must embody to succeed. It speaks to my most pessimistic moments coexisting with my ambitious dreams. And it opens space for these paintings existing as a dream-like tour through the dim and unexplained world of my feelings and thoughts, which, I hope, will be recognized by, and connect with others.

Simple and Strange takes influence, ideas, and inspiration from many seemingly disconnected sources that nonetheless have a common thread. These elements - Wilde’s paradoxes, du Maurier’s muse Menabilly and Eric Avon, MacDonald’s chimera, Newfoundland’s landscape, the concept of home and topophilia, and more - distill down through my own life and artistic experience to emerge as a visual language that expresses the strange complexity of simply being human.

I acknowledge the support of ArtsNL.