Footprint of a Business.
No attempt at realisation was made here. Pure abstract emerges from real imagery. The feature was once shop frontage preserved at the V & A. Pinned to a wall, it forms a sculpture. The shell of its former glory, intriguing and lonely.
The view of the structure is from right below. A failed attempt at symmetry is almost lost in the chaos of the picture. Colours are at war with each other. Any attempt at structure is negated by the fickle nature of the inks. Their reticence to move in key areas or creating a flood of chaos fighting for attention and bleeding into areas where they ought not to go. Dark, swathes of ink flow into each other, to be broken down by salt and water. Sometimes obedient to the geometric lines and, elsewhere, crashing through barriers, oblivious to the will of The Artist. For you can suggest a course of action towards colour or ink, but it will always decide on its own course until it’s dried, that is. Water is relentless.
Delicate trails of ink branch off in organic tendrils, feeling their way through the uncharted lands of earlier colour washes. But what does it mean? It’s a footprint from the past, a peculiar mark on the landscape, designed and built for the purpose of commerce. It’s now disconnected from its source, open, naked, vulnerable, the bones of a one thriving business property,
A reminder that all will end, but what’s left can still be as interesting and useful to those who come later.
What to call it?
Footprint of Commerce.
The Reality of Dreamers
Legacy of a Business.
I’ll have to ponder that one.
