Archive for the ‘painting’ tag

Allen Vandever,s New Reflection on Opart

I have bean studding Opart for the last year to learn how to take it to the next level. I now have good grasp on how to use and incorporate it into my work. I will be Bloging my new Ideas and works in hopes to get some feedback on this endeavor. I hope you enjoy these images and if you don't for any reason let me know so I can take your ideas into consideration.

Allen Vandever

Allen Vandever art post "Cave to Corcovado"

Cave to Corcovado Acrylic by Allen Vandever

She became so worn down from the unrelenting struggle; she could no longer fight against her tormentors. She finally succumbed to their hundreds of tugging and clasping hands, though she still had the weight of the living. It seemed almost a relief when they took her away. But though her lids expressed serenity, her vacant eyes revealed only a shell, a vessel empty of its purpose. Her soul was taken to a multitude of directions, and I was left, lost to their route.
Images of my ex-wife’s breakdown still haunt me to this day. This is the first, of a series of three, about this time period of our lives, which I began about 8 years ago. Shedding One’s Skin, is the third, and is the subject of the last posting.

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Allen Vandever art post "Shedding One’s Skin"

Shedding One’s Skin Acrylic by Allen Vandever

This strange being convulses violently until her release, but once in the air of the world outside its shell, it writhes and shrinks from the sun too hot mercilessly scorching its translucent skin, too bright for the pupils in their first exposure to its rays. She has wrenched apart her soft underside from the hardened, weatherworn shell once donning her beautiful face. She is not the worm becoming moth; she is a detestable carrion bird emerging from timber not yet lit. A scavenger of her own body left on a pyre not aflame for ashes. She is saturated in all the secretions of a gapping wound, her body raw, tender, and vulnerable. My lady must walk in darkness; she must walk alone in the black of her despair until she brings herself to walk in the light once more. In these shadows I cannot reach her, she does not see my hand, does not see my face or even hear my voice. She has foregone her shell and with it everything of her life, including myself. Her shell reclines in a posture of malaise- a haunting reminder of how easily she slipped away from me.

Allen Vandever art post "Shadow Dancer"

Shadow Dancer Acrylic, Epoxy Resin by Allen Vandever

She no longer fears the light. She now revels in the colors being illuminated in her world in innumerable shapes and lines. She basks in its warmth reflecting off the contours of her body. She begins to dance, expressing the insurmountable bliss of this moment-this moment when she no longer cowers under the cold pressure of her shadow. She is finally at one with her dark celestial twin, merging their two worlds once rent asunder by ignorance and fear. She embraces her carnal sister and the world ceases to be bound.

This painting was not only a cornerstone for my work, but also represents a pivotal point in my understanding. This is the third version of this painting, and I find that with every version, I come closer to fully achieving expression of my vision-a vision of a world with endless capabilities made possible when we embrace all aspects of our beings-allowing our spirits to live, breathe, and create.

Allen Vandever art post "Weight of the City"

Weight of the City Acrylic, Epoxy Resin by Allen Vandever

She is bound and falling deeper into the chasm of her despair. The glow of the city lights illuminates this dark scene, making a display of her suffering as she falls deeper into the vast depths of loneliness. She goes down blind to the glorious vision of the world before her. She is stripped of control, but our heroine descends placidly, for she knows the entire city is underwater being pulled into the mouth of the same abyss.

Allen Vandever art post "Dreaming of Childhood "

Dreaming of Childhood Acrylic, Epoxy Resin by Allen Vandever

After a long evening of uninspiring gallery openings, I felt frustrated and unfulfilled. The first area of galleries exhibited a strong control over composition and craft, while the second area seemed to focus on creative self-expression, neither, however, really offered anything challenging or compelling. That night, I meditated on my reactions before falling into a deep sleep. This is one piece in a series that recreates the images of my dreams from that night.

Allen Vandever art post "Wind Dancer"

Wind Dancer Acrylic, Epoxy Resin by Allen Vandever

I have painted her in my presence many times before, but only through solitary reflection have I been able to capture the haunting mystery of my muse’s gaze. Only in quiet brushstrokes have I been able to capture the contours of her hips and the curvature of her waist, merging in the hypnosis of her dance. The rhythm pulls her this way, then that, the richness of sound is given form through the motions of her arms and the swaying of her shoulders. She flows like a willow tree in the wind, her body submitting to the elemental forces. But, as she manifests an image of the music, her face is languidly detached, unaware of the power of her loins and the art in her movement.

When she looks upon her reflection she does not see the vast countryside spanning unhindered over the plains of her neck, down her collarbone, through her sternum. She does not notice her amber-glowing skin stretched across the lines of her being, like a hide stretched across the body of a drum, stirring her into life. She has a strange fixation, a birthmark, as much a part of her as her nose and lips, but to her a curse confining her in isolation. Her body has the power to make even humdrum pieces of music profoundly brilliant, but I will forever contemplate her eyes, which have the power to express her lonely struggle and the quiet despair of her soul.

Allen Vandever art post "Self-Punishment"

Self-Punishment Acrylic, Epoxy Resin by Allen Vandever

This painting captures a moment when conscious and subconscious thought, converge in a lucid-dream state. The forest is vibrant with life and natural splendor, desires frolic naked among the trees, but a ghostly oppressor strikes disguised in the colors and forms of our heroine’s dream. Disgusting girl! Your thoughts are depraved, vile, animalistic! So powerful is the sadist-translucent that we cannot escape its grip even in our dreams. This frustration, pain, and fear of punishment deny us the ecstasy of fulfilling our true desires. Often, it is subtler, simply preventing us from discovering what our desires truly are.

When I think upon the progress of Modern Man, I am mesmerized by our accomplishments, but through our society’s progress many of our values have taken on the status of rigid, factual nomenclature, limiting the possibilities of personalized self-discovery. This translucent boundary prevents us from freely creating and exploring dimensions for our own experiences, stifling our potential to bring further enlightenment to the collective conscience. As creatures amidst our own modernity, we cannot be blind-sighted by relative comfort; we must continue the struggle for progress. So, in my pursuit to bring this struggle to light, I embarked on this painting hoping to portray how beautiful such freedom could be.