[et_pb_section fb_built=“1″ fullwidth=“on“ _builder_version=“4.8.2″ _module_preset=“default“][et_pb_fullwidth_image src=“https:\/\/artzine.is\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/CallumInnes.jpg“ title_text=“Callum Innes“ _builder_version=“4.8.2″ _module_preset=“default“][\/et_pb_fullwidth_image][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=“1″ custom_padding_last_edited=“on|desktop“ admin_label=“section“ _builder_version=“3.22″ custom_padding_tablet=“50px|0|50px|0″ custom_padding_phone=““ transparent_background=“off“ padding_mobile=“off“ make_fullwidth=“off“ use_custom_width=“off“ width_unit=“off“ custom_width_px=“1080px“ custom_width_percent=“80%“][et_pb_row padding_mobile=“off“ column_padding_mobile=“on“ admin_label=“row“ _builder_version=“3.25″ background_size=“initial“ background_position=“top_left“ background_repeat=“repeat“ make_fullwidth=“off“ use_custom_width=“off“ width_unit=“off“ custom_width_px=“1080px“ custom_width_percent=“80%“][et_pb_column type=“4_4″ _builder_version=“3.25″ custom_padding=“|||“ custom_padding__hover=“|||“][et_pb_post_title meta=“off“ date_format=“j.m. Y“ featured_image=“off“ _builder_version=“4.7.7″ title_font=“|300||on|||||“ title_text_align=“center“ title_font_size=“40px“ title_letter_spacing=“1px“ background_color=“rgba(255,255,255,0)“ parallax=“on“ parallax_method=“off“ max_width=“100%“ title_font_size_tablet=“30px“ title_font_size_phone=“26px“ title_font_size_last_edited=“on|phone“ use_border_color=“off“ border_color=“#ffffff“ border_style=“solid“ parallax_effect=“on“ module_bg_color=“rgba(255,255,255,0)“ global_module=“3887″ saved_tabs=“all“][\/et_pb_post_title][et_pb_text admin_label=“Text“ _builder_version=“3.27.4″ background_size=“initial“ background_position=“top_left“ background_repeat=“repeat“ use_border_color=“off“ border_style=“solid“]<\/p>\n
The Scottish painter, Callum Innes was born in Edinburgh in 1962, he studied at Gray\u2019s School of Art and the Edinburgh College of Art. Erin Honeycutt sat down with him at i8 gallery the day of the opening to discuss his past and future work.<\/strong><\/p>\n I was most curious initially about Innes\u2019 views on the placement of his work within the abstract painting tradition and the trajectory of this tradition. He explains that abstraction has always been important to him; Barnett Newman and Mark Rothko made an impression on him as a younger artist, but more important than these figures in the abstract painting tradition is the language used to carry the tradition forward. Innes explains how his continuation of the language of abstraction became a process of removing reference from the work:<\/p>\n \u201cWhat a Rothko, or a Newman, or a Blinky Palermo does is they give you a moment to pause. I like this idea of seeing something and reading it and having to look at it again and again. It\u2019s that time where you pause and look at something and you read it… that\u2019s what I like to create in my work. I think the earlier works are very important because you\u2019ve got everything at once and it disappears. There\u2019s nothing to take it forward in your head. I like the idea that I can work with an abstraction and try to make something that resonates at different times with different people. I\u2019m getting rid of the figure in the work and I\u2019m getting rid of all the references; I\u2019m using that to be able to move forward. I try to create something by the way that I make work which is partly reduction, a creation of something that has it\u2019s own intrinsic history, it\u2019s own quality… like a fine object.\u201d<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=“1_2,1_2″ padding_mobile=“off“ column_padding_mobile=“on“ admin_label=“Row“ _builder_version=“3.25″ background_size=“initial“ background_position=“top_left“ background_repeat=“repeat“ make_fullwidth=“off“ use_custom_width=“off“ width_unit=“off“ custom_width_px=“1080px“ custom_width_percent=“80%“][et_pb_column type=“1_2″ _builder_version=“3.25″ custom_padding=“|||“ custom_padding__hover=“|||“][et_pb_image src=“https:\/\/artzine.is\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/unnamed-3.jpg“ alt=“Photo courtesy of i8 Gallery.“ title_text=“Photo courtesy of i8 Gallery.“ show_in_lightbox=“on“ show_bottom_space=“off“ align=“center“ align_tablet=“center“ align_phone=““ align_last_edited=“on|desktop“ admin_label=“Image“ _builder_version=“3.23″ animation=“off“ use_border_color=“off“ border_color=“#ffffff“ border_width=“1px“ border_style=“solid“ sticky=“on“ always_center_on_mobile=“on“] [\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=“1_2″ _builder_version=“3.25″ custom_padding=“|||“ custom_padding__hover=“|||“][et_pb_image src=“https:\/\/artzine.is\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/unnamed-1.jpg“ alt=“Photo courtesy of i8 Gallery.“ title_text=“Photo courtesy of i8 Gallery.“ show_in_lightbox=“on“ show_bottom_space=“off“ align=“center“ align_tablet=“center“ align_phone=““ align_last_edited=“on|desktop“ admin_label=“Image“ _builder_version=“3.23″ animation=“off“ use_border_color=“off“ border_color=“#ffffff“ border_width=“1px“ border_style=“solid“ sticky=“on“ always_center_on_mobile=“on“] [\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row padding_mobile=“off“ column_padding_mobile=“on“ admin_label=“row“ _builder_version=“3.25″ background_size=“initial“ background_position=“top_left“ background_repeat=“repeat“ make_fullwidth=“off“ use_custom_width=“off“ width_unit=“off“ custom_width_px=“1080px“ custom_width_percent=“80%“][et_pb_column type=“4_4″ _builder_version=“3.25″ custom_padding=“|||“ custom_padding__hover=“|||“][et_pb_text admin_label=“Text“ _builder_version=“4.8.2″ background_size=“initial“ background_position=“top_left“ background_repeat=“repeat“ use_border_color=“off“ border_style=“solid“]<\/p>\n \u201cWell, it could be time based, but time is not sequential either. So when I started doing abstract works they were on oil paper, like the works out there now, and were tall pieces, 2×1 meters. I discovered an oil paper on which I could paint an image of maybe a stem or a leaf form or something organic and I could dissolve it. So the image is still there but it becomes part of the paper which I think is quite important. For many years I kept that methodology in my head for making work. Actually, it is all about gesture. It is all about physicality when you cross something and something hits you. I still see the paintings as being inherently figurative which sounds a bit crazy to people. It should retain a fragility and that\u2019s partly due to the the way I make work. But you know, what appears to be straight is never straight if made by hand. So the line is always slightly off… with the watercolor I obviously tape things up, but it is never quite straight otherwise. I use tape to get a straight line because I can\u2019t paint that straight, but when I take something off or take a division through something it\u2019s always done by hand so it should have that possibility of failure for it to work.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, it\u2019s a phrase that I didn\u2019t come up with, but I don\u2019t mind it. Actually, it\u2019s about application. It is \u2018unpainting\u2019 because I start with an image in my head although I\u2019m applying all the time. I\u2019m applying paint all the time, as well as turpentine. The big painting in there from 2007 I made along with other paintings for a show in London; seven of them. I decided to make black ones for London which makes them more urban, but these are grey with yellow to make them slightly warmer. That painting looks like it\u2019s been poured down, but it has actually been made from the bottom to the top. I disguise a lot so it looks like one thing but then something simple becomes complex, maybe not so much in that painting. If you look carefully enough in that painting you can see as I stretch I can\u2019t make it quite to the top, so I actually work it to the top so I can bring it back down.\u201d<\/p>\n The painting in question is Monologue TwentyFive. I recalled my own engagement with the painting and how the painting\u2019s verticality arrested the space of the viewer.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n \u201cTalking about verticality and space and how you step into space… I remember a show I did years ago at the Pace gallery in New York City. There\u2019s something that happened in 1990-91 where people would try to jump into moving elevator shafts. It was a craze. They would wait for the elevator to come up and jump at the right time. But the idea of expectation, of waiting and not knowing where it is. So if you do that and have this line from top to bottom there\u2019s that slight feeling… I\u2019d like a painting to make that feeling of hesitation; is it a void or a solid? It explained the idea that when you make something, you make it visual, but where does it sit?\u201d<\/p>\n Innes’\u00a0simple yet complex engagement with the painting speaks of these kinds of suggestive moments. In reading depths across the canvas, we orient ourselves spatially. Space in his canvas becomes a playing field with unexpected proximities…<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI play with space. I had this exhibition in October with sixty or so works in a big place that terrified me. I was asked if I would consider making wall paintings which I\u2019ve never done before. It was at Dupont in The Netherlands. They\u2019re the same size as the paintings outside, but we wanted them slightly bigger. We made two rectangles on the wall and prepared the wall. We painted directly on the wall but within the rectangle we\u2019ve gessoed it, so it\u2019s a flat surface. And then each rectangle has a very gentle curve on one side to make the whole thing pop. It still looks like a rectangle, but the curve is so slight. So it sits like a portal. You don\u2019t know if the space is behind the wall or outside. So you can do this with color and forms. You can just see the pencil line how it comes off at the corner. It\u2019s enough just to disconcern you. I like making things that disconcern people.\u201d<\/p>\n Innes\u00a0also launches a new book, Edges, at the opening. Speaking of reading the space of the canvas, I considered the extent to which the whole painting becomes an edge of sor<\/em>ts.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s right. You can have the whole history at the edge. It\u2019s interesting when people see these watercolors… you put two colors together, maybe blue clouds in a rectangle then I put tape around it, then maybe a solid orange, and then with water and brush and the weight of the hand the colors mix. Sometimes you don\u2019t know what is going to happen. But you create and when they really work, these beautiful luminous spaces appear with the unique color held by these edges. I thought of doing photographs for this little book published by Ivory Press, but I decided to just do the edges. We took photographs of all the edges. Then I asked the author Colm T\u00f3ib\u00edn, who wrote Brooklyn, to write something for it. He is in that tradition of Joyce… not quite, but everyone calls him the next Joyce. He wrote a passage about light and edges.\u201d<\/p>\n Erin Honeycutt<\/em><\/p>\n Photos: courtecy of i8<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Scottish painter, Callum Innes was born in Edinburgh in 1962, he studied at Gray\u2019s School of Art and the Edinburgh College of Art. Erin Honeycutt sat down with him at i8 gallery the day of the opening to discuss his past and future work. I was most curious initially about Innes\u2019 views on the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":15,"featured_media":2153,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":" On view at \u00cd8 gallery from June 9th<\/sup>-August 6th<\/sup> is a solo show by the Scottish painter, Callum Innes. Born in Edinburgh in 1962, he studied at Gray\u2019s School of Art and the Edinburgh College of Art. Erin Honeycutt sat down with him at \u00cd8 gallery the day of the opening to discuss his past and future work.<\/strong><\/p> I was most curious initially about Innes\u2019 views on the placement of his work within the abstract painting tradition and the trajectory of this tradition. He explains that abstraction has always been important to him; Barnett Newman and Mark Rothko made an impression on him as a younger artist, but more important than these figures in the abstract painting tradition is the language used to carry the tradition forward. Innes explains how his continuation of the language of abstraction became a process of removing reference from the work:<\/p> \u201cWhat a Rothko, or a Newman, or a Blinky Palermo does is they give you a moment to pause. I like this idea of seeing something and reading it and having to look at it again and again. It\u2019s that time where you pause and look at something and you read it... that\u2019s what I like to create in my work. I think the earlier works are very important because you\u2019ve got everything at once and it disappears. There\u2019s nothing to take it forward in your head. I like the idea that I can work with an abstraction and try to make something that resonates at different times with different people. I\u2019m getting rid of the figure in the work and I\u2019m getting rid of all the references; I\u2019m using that to be able to move forward. I try to create something by the way that I make work which is partly reduction, a creation of something that has it\u2019s own intrinsic history, it\u2019s own quality... like a fine object.\u201d<\/p> Would you say you are experimenting with the time-based quality of a painting?<\/strong><\/p> \u201cWell, it could be time based, but time is not sequential either. So when I started doing abstract works they were on oil paper, like the works out there now, and were tall pieces, 2x1 meters. I discovered an oil paper on which I could paint an image of maybe a stem or a leaf form or something organic and I could dissolve it. So the image is still there but it becomes part of the paper which I think is quite important. For many years I kept that methodology in my head for making work. Actually, it is all about gesture. It is all about physicality when you cross something and something hits you. I still see the paintings as being inherently figurative which sounds a bit crazy to people. It should retain a fragility and that\u2019s partly due to the the way I make work. But you know, what appears to be straight is never straight if made by hand. So the line is always slightly off... with the watercolor I obviously tape things up, but it is never quite straight otherwise. I use tape to get a straight line because I can\u2019t paint that straight, but when I take something off or take a division through something it\u2019s always done by hand so it should have that possibility of failure for it to work.\u201d<\/p> And the \u2018unpainting\u2019 phrase? You don\u2019t mind it?<\/strong><\/p> \u201cWell, it\u2019s a phrase that I didn\u2019t come up with, but I don\u2019t mind it. Actually, it\u2019s about application. It is \u2018unpainting\u2019 because I start with an image in my head although I\u2019m applying all the time. I\u2019m applying paint all the time, as well as turpentine. The big painting in there from 2007 I made along with other paintings for a show in London; seven of them. I decided to make black ones for London which makes them more urban, but these are grey with yellow to make them slightly warmer. That painting looks like it\u2019s been poured down, but it has actually been made from the bottom to the top. I disguise a lot so it looks like one thing but then something simple becomes complex, maybe not so much in that painting. If you look carefully enough in that painting you can see as I stretch I can\u2019t make it quite to the top, so I actually work it to the top so I can bring it back down.\u201d<\/p> The painting in question is Monologue TwentyFive. <\/em>I recalled my own engagement with the painting and how the painting\u2019s verticality arrested the space of the viewer.<\/strong><\/p> \u201cTalking about verticality and space and how you step into space... I remember a show I did years ago at the Pace gallery in New York City. There\u2019s something that happened in 1990-91 where people would try to jump into moving elevator shafts. It was a craze. They would wait for the elevator to come up and jump at the right time. But the idea of expectation, of waiting and not knowing where it is. So if you do that and have this line from top to bottom there\u2019s that slight feeling... I\u2019d like a painting to make that feeling of hesitation; is it a void or a solid? It explained the idea that when you make something, you make it visual, but where does it sit?\u201d<\/p> Innes'\u00a0simple yet complex engagement with the painting speaks of these kinds of suggestive moments. In reading depths across the canvas, we orient ourselves spatially. Space in his canvas becomes a playing field with unexpected proximities...<\/strong><\/p> \u201cI play with space. I had this exhibition in October with sixty or so works in a big place that terrified me. I was asked if I would consider making wall paintings which I\u2019ve never done before. It was at Dupont in The Netherlands. They\u2019re the same size as the paintings outside, but we wanted them slightly bigger. We made two rectangles on the wall and prepared the wall. We painted directly on the wall but within the rectangle we\u2019ve gessoed it, so it\u2019s a flat surface. And then each rectangle has a very gentle curve on one side to make the whole thing pop. It still looks like a rectangle, but the curve is so slight. So it sits like a portal. You don\u2019t know if the space is behind the wall or outside. So you can do this with color and forms. You can just see the pencil line how it comes off at the corner. It\u2019s enough just to disconcern you. I like making things that disconcern people.\u201d<\/p> Innes\u00a0also launches a new book, Edges, <\/em>at the opening. Speaking of reading the space of the canvas, I considered the extent to which the whole painting becomes an edge of sorts.<\/strong><\/p> \u201cThat\u2019s right. You can have the whole history at the edge. It\u2019s interesting when people see these watercolors... you put two colors together, maybe blue clouds in a rectangle then I put tape around it, then maybe a solid orange, and then with water and brush and the weight of the hand the colors mix. Sometimes you don\u2019t know what is going to happen. But you create and when they really work, these beautiful luminous spaces appear with the unique color held by these edges. I thought of doing photographs for this little book published by Ivory Press, but I decided to just do the edges. We took photographs of all the edges. Then I asked the author Colm T\u00f3ib\u00edn, who wrote Brooklyn, to write something for it. He is in that tradition of Joyce... not quite, but everyone calls him the next Joyce. He wrote a passage about light and edges.\u201d<\/p> Erin Honeycutt<\/em><\/p> \u00a0<\/p>","_et_gb_content_width":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[16,10],"tags":[877],"class_list":["post-2152","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-artzine-in-english","category-vidtol","tag-callum-innes"],"yoast_head":"\nWould you say you are experimenting with the time-based quality of a painting?<\/strong><\/em><\/h1>\n
And the \u2018unpainting\u2019 phrase? You don\u2019t mind it?<\/strong><\/em><\/h1>\n
\nPhotos courtesy of \u00cd8 Gallery.<\/h6>