Frank Bowling's Owl - Asides (I)
Jackson Pollock never set you a puzzle like this. Amongst the blaze of colour and form at Tate Britain's Frank Bowling retrospective is the dank and yet gripping painting Wintergreens. Amid the thick, slapped on Kieferesque impasto are discarded objects, including the cap from a tube of paint, and, apparently, a tiny toy owl. Pollock's discarded cigarette butts pale into insignificance against that latter piece of abstract expressionist fossilisation.
The search began. Braving the embarrassment and the inevitable turning of heads as I encroached, upside down limbo-like, too far past the alarmed cordon, peering myopically into the depths of the gloopy paint, I tried to find the toy owl. Fifteen minutes later I was still frustrated. I'd located the cap from the the tube in the top left hand corner of the painting but the owl was elusive. A quick trawl of the internet didn't help either. One last sortie and I convinced myself that I'd located something passable - I hadn't - and carried on to the final three rooms. Catching up with my partner, who had appeared rather laissez-faire about the owl search, I told her I'd found it. This wasn't good enough. She wanted to see.
We traipsed back and I pointed out the oval object that seemed to join two sticks or bits of pipe together, and my bravado faded. I couldn't pass this off as a bird. I'm not sure I could pass it of as anything, truth be told.
But then, turning my attention back to .... well that would ruin it, no? .... and suddenly, as if I'd just seen the glimmer of one of Willy Wonka's golden tickets rustling into view, I alighted on two tiny eyes. The hunter had became the prey.
Is Frank having a little joke with us about the owl? There is of course one hiding in full sight in his name. Whatever the answer, Frank Bowling's The Possibilities of Paint Are Never Ending is showing at Tate Britain until the 26th August. It is a vibrant and powerful exhibition. Do try and catch it and do let me know if you find the owl.
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| Frank Bowling, Wintergreens (1986) |
The search began. Braving the embarrassment and the inevitable turning of heads as I encroached, upside down limbo-like, too far past the alarmed cordon, peering myopically into the depths of the gloopy paint, I tried to find the toy owl. Fifteen minutes later I was still frustrated. I'd located the cap from the the tube in the top left hand corner of the painting but the owl was elusive. A quick trawl of the internet didn't help either. One last sortie and I convinced myself that I'd located something passable - I hadn't - and carried on to the final three rooms. Catching up with my partner, who had appeared rather laissez-faire about the owl search, I told her I'd found it. This wasn't good enough. She wanted to see.
We traipsed back and I pointed out the oval object that seemed to join two sticks or bits of pipe together, and my bravado faded. I couldn't pass this off as a bird. I'm not sure I could pass it of as anything, truth be told.
 |
| Not an owl, clearly! |
But then, turning my attention back to .... well that would ruin it, no? .... and suddenly, as if I'd just seen the glimmer of one of Willy Wonka's golden tickets rustling into view, I alighted on two tiny eyes. The hunter had became the prey.
 |
| Too wit! |
Is Frank having a little joke with us about the owl? There is of course one hiding in full sight in his name. Whatever the answer, Frank Bowling's The Possibilities of Paint Are Never Ending is showing at Tate Britain until the 26th August. It is a vibrant and powerful exhibition. Do try and catch it and do let me know if you find the owl.
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