The Lure of the Dark: Contemporary Painters Conjure the Night

TM Davy TM Davy paints the intimate moments and relationships

In Portrait of Darkness (2012), a candelabra illuminates a

of his life. In a traditional style, he paints friends and

hanging sheet which fills the width of the picture. The light

fellow artists. He paints his husband, Liam. He paints their

of the flames creates dramatic shadows in the folds and

cat and an array of meaningful domestic objects. But

wrinkles of the material. In this expanse of white, a large

what Davy really paints is light. He paints the glow of

circle cut out of the fabric frames the deep, lush darkness

candles, cigarettes, sunlight, and moonlight, and, more

behind it. This strange black hole provokes a number of

specifically, he paints what the light looks like when it

associations, from an orifice to an eclipse of the sun.

bounces off skin or glass or fabric. When artist A A Bronson

In contrast to this black orb, the moon of Davy’s

asked Davy in an interview what he sees when he looks

monumental Fire Island Moonrise (2018) seems nearly as

in a mirror, he tellingly responded, “I see light, gradients

bright as the sun itself. Looking up at the canvas, you can

and rainbows…all the light that streams into the room…

almost feel the light on your face and sense the domed sky

frequencies passing through the skin and back, intensities

above your head. Light bounces off the clouds that ring

and hues separated by distance to bone and density of

the moon, the ocean below, and creates a halo around

blood, brighter shapes where the light hits most directly,

the artist’s figure kneeling next to his husband lying on

values shifting with turning away, all those angles of

the beach. Liam’s striped caftan and the ukulele next

incidence, patterns of shadow….” Davy also naturally

to him are direct references to Henri Rousseau’s The

paints the shadows, the dark. It is the perfect foil for the

Sleeping Gypsy (1897) which depicts a lion standing over

light. You can hardly see one without the other.

a sleeping woman and is similarly charged with both eroticism and angst.

Fire Island Moonrise, 2018; oil on canvas; 132 × 132 inches; courtesy of the artist and Van Doren Waxter

Wilhelm Neusser Wilhelm Neusser looks to the legacy of German

of supernatural phenomena, in which two long-lost lovers

Romanticism in his enigmatic landscapes which seem

find each other with the help of two moons. Neusser’s

to be as much a psychological terrain as a specific

painting is an image that is both past and future at once,

geography. Growing up outside of Cologne, Germany, in

referencing nocturnes by artists including Caspar David

an agricultural area which strip-mining has transformed

Friedrich, Joseph Wright, and Charles Innes, along with

into something less than picturesque, Neusser is drawn

science fiction fantasy. The intense, green glow of the

to the notion of disrupted paradise. He emphasizes

painting adds to its futuristic feel while reminding us that

the tension between the ideal and the real in the way

at night it is the light with the shortest wavelengths—

he makes his paintings, which, despite their convincing

green—that can be seen best.

representations, assert their physical surfaces and

A collection of small nocturnes is also on view.

materials. Neusser often takes a sander to his carefully

Neusser paints them with John Constable’s cloud studies

rendered paintings, or adds Gerhard Richter-like streaks

and the Romantic painters’ nature studies in mind.

and crusts of paint to their surfaces, inserting what he

The largest in this grouping pays homage to Beethoven’s

calls “a beautiful kind of rip in the illusion.”

melancholic Piano Sonata 14 from 1801, subtitled Quasi

His painting Nocturne/Doublemoon (2017) includes

una fantasia. The piece’s colloquial title (Moonlight Sonata,

another kind of subtle disruption. In what might otherwise

like the painting) was inspired by the German Romantic

be mistaken for an 18th- century depiction of the German

poet Ludwig Rellstab’s review of the composition’s first

forest, Neusser has depicted two uncanny moons. He has

movement which he likened to a boat floating in the

merged the mysterious atmosphere of Romantic painting

moonlight on Switzerland’s Lake Lucerne. Neusser’s

with elements of Haruki Murakami’s novel 1Q84.

painting imagines the clouds covering and exposing the

Named for George Orwell’s dystopian vision of 1984,

moon brought to life in Beethoven’s music.

Murakami imagines a parallel and distorted reality, full

Nocturne/Doublemoon, 2017; oil on linen; 57 × 67 inches; courtesy of the artist

Sam McKinniss Sam McKinniss bases his paintings on images he sources

McKinniss also paints his friends and lovers with

online, from celebrity portraits to animals and flowers.

the same eye for the sacred and the profane. With Night

Although he faithfully renders the originals without any

Texter (Violet Oliver) from 2015, McKinniss captures the

of the expected cynicism or irony, he also reveals his

warm glow of his subject’s cell phone and the reflective

subjects’ hidden complexities, drawing out their romance

stripes of his running pants in a manner reminiscent of

and theatricality—along with a hint of alienation.

Georges de La Tour’s candle-lit religious scenes from

McKinniss’s deep engagement with art history lends his

the 17th century. A series of small portraits originally

portfolio of pop-culture subjects the gravitas of a range

painted for the erotic magazine, Adult, provide an even

of historical paintings that influence him, from Fragonard’s

more intimate look at a number of the men in McKinniss’s

Rococo confections to Caravaggio’s moody dramas. His

circle. Half-hidden in shadow, a man wearing a thick woolen

recent portrait of singer Lana Del Rey captures the

sweater is as seductive as the figure in a more advanced

starlet’s nearly heavenly stature (worshipful fans can buy

stage of undress.

prayer candles with her likeness online). The painting is

The various moments of performativity and

influenced by an aquatint of a set design for an 1816

anticipation McKinniss paints perhaps culminates with

production of “The Magic Flute.” In the print, the Queen

Northern Lights (2017). Like his other subjects, the image of

of the Night is enveloped in a glittering dome of stars. In

the Aurora Borealis can easily slide into the trite and

a similar fashion, in McKinniss’s operatic portrait, Del Rey

saccharine, but in McKinniss’s network of images the acid

is engulfed in a shimmering halo of confetti, emphasizing

greens and purples of the spectacular natural phenomenon

the intersection of religion and show business.

suggest the ecstasy of technicolor light displays and druginduced hallucinations of urban nightclubs.

Night Texter (Violet Oliver), 2015; oil and aqua-leaf on canvas; 60 × 48 inches; collection of Stephanie LaCava and Bryan Weiss

Shara Hughes Shara Hughes’ vibrant paintings pay homage to a

Hughes painted Like Night and Day (2009) during a

pantheon of early 20th- century painters. The influence

turbulent time in her life, and the living space suggests

of Henri Matisse and the Fauves, Vincent van Gogh,

the feeling of being torn in two. A large skylight looks

Ernst Ludwig Kirchner and the German Expressionists

out onto both a blue, cloud-filled sky and an expanse of

are all seen and felt, along with a connection to American

stars. The zigzags of the floor below and the impossible

modernists such as Marsden Hartley and Arthur Dove.

web of beams add to the sense of disorientation. A river-

In addition to the array of art historical references that

like carpet of glitter cuts through the space, cleaving it

Hughes combines to create her own fantastical visions,

in two. A snake-like form lies on the floor, its stripes

she uses an expansive vocabulary of painterly materials

reminiscent of the coral snake native to Hughes’ Georgia

and marks. In many cases, a single canvas might include

home, while an owl, a natural predator, looks out from

all of them: transparent washes of dye, thick applications

its perch on a bench. A small peace sign offers a hopeful

of oil, fluid ribbons of enamel, dizzying repetitions

respite from the implied conflict.

of brushstrokes, stippled dots of color, and airy bursts

While the domestic interior depicts both night and

of spray paint. Together these varied languages express

day simultaneously, in other works Hughes conflates them,

the complex terrain of emotions manifested through

allowing confusion between the illusion of moonlight

her subjects, both in her dream-like landscapes and her

or sunlight. Deep Dark Fall (2015) features an orange-red

more psychologically agitated interiors and figures.

moon that might be mistaken for a blazing sun. Evoking both fear and desire, the pitch black water cascading into roiling white foam appears like an impassable gulf between the viewer and the enchanted landscape on the far shore. A calmer pool of water below the tall cliff glows with purple and yellow from the reflected moonlight, almost beckoning us for a romantic nighttime swim.

Hughes calls her images “invented’ landscapes, and the framing device on each side of Deep Dark Fall adds to the impression that we are looking at a place from elsewhere.

Spins from Swiss (2017) is unusual in its connection to a particular memory of the artist driving through mountains in Switzerland. Moving in and out, up and down, between dark and light, the painting of the circuitous roads up the soaring peaks suggests both the awe felt in the face of the dramatic topography, but also the vertigo that the artist often contends with in daily life.

Spins from Swiss, 2017; oil and dye on canvas; 78 × 70 inches; private collection

Jeronimo Elespe Jeronimo Elespe paints dreamlike scenes that often begin

Elespe works in various vocabularies that draw on

with autobiographical details from his studio and home

a wide range of inspirations from symbolist literature to

life. Letting memory and imagination take over, the artist

Japanese prints to the visionary paintings of Charles

creates enigmatic images that linger in a liminal space

Burchfield, among others. The small format of his works,

between myth and the mundane. In Fine (2015), a dog-like

with their condensed, jewel-like marks, gives them the

creature stands at the bottom of a staircase floating in

quality of private or sacred objects. Elespe’s process is a

an atmospheric sea of shimmering blue. Invitaciones

cumulative one of addition and subtraction, and he can

peligrosas (2017) transforms a simple box into a portal to

take months and even years to complete a work. His dense,

another world. Both of these paintings suggest the magic

repeated marks somehow veer toward the immaterial,

and the danger of night, with figures and objects unmoored

like the figures in Hesperides (2017) who emerge like ghosts

from the day and its familiar architecture. Walls and floor

from the crepuscular mist. In Elespe’s version, the maidens

transform into in an endless, starry ether. The artist’s

of the evening from Greek mythology wear head scarves

pointillist-like application of paint adds to the illusion of

and carry wine goblets.

night, creating hazy images that suggest the fog-like pixilation of night vision.

Hesperides, 2016; mixed media on panel; 39.37 × 25.59 inches; collection of Sally and Tom Neff

William Binnie William Binnie makes paintings that confront the American

Southwest imagines a contemporary iteration of Manifest

mythos, providing a darker, more complex portrait of

Destiny, while a melting ice shelf reminds us of the urgent

the nation. Source images he has collected for years that

need to care for the land.

reference art, film, politics, and history, along with

The most disturbing images in Binnie’s index evoke

everyday moments, become interconnected in a single

the racial terror associated with the night. Burning churches

canvas, or in the cluster of paintings that make up Atlas I

confront us with a common act of violence against

(2016). Leaving much of his canvases exposed, Binnie

black communities. Ku Klux Klan hoods speak to the grim

paints hyperrealist scenes in swatches that assert the

persistence of white supremacy. In The Vine that Ate the

power of art to create alternative worlds while functioning

South (2018), Binnie engages the myth surrounding

much like the windows on a computer which bring together

kudzu, an invasive species from Asia which lives large in

disparate subject matter in non-hierarchical relationships.

the Southern imagination as a monstrous weed capable

The constellation of paintings in Atlas I suggest many

of darkening millions of acres under its tangled web

of the ideals and contradictions in our heroic notion

and even of creeping into homes at night. The truth is

of “America.” Rugged landscapes and majestic animals

much less daunting, of course, and this misinformation

collide with imagery suggesting the racism and intolerance

illustrates the power of such popular mythologies. A

that plagues our past and present. A lone stag conveys

burning torch on the same canvas evokes the frightening

power and masculinity, while two female deer in an intimate

images of the white nationalist rally in Charlottesville

kiss propose a symbol of modern love. A cross framing a

and the chants of “You Won’t Replace Us.” Paired with

woman’s bottom addresses the ongoing fight to control

the kudzu, the message is clear that the fear of the other

the female body in the name of religion. Renderings of the

is stoked by untruths and misrepresentations.

moon’s surface convey a spirit of exploration, while flags hint at the dangers of nationalism. A Martian landscape that could be mistaken for the red rocks of the American

Atlas I, 2016 (details); oil, acrylic, and gesso on canvas; 28 works of varying dimension; overall dimensions variable; collection of Beth Rudin DeWoody

Cy Gavin Cy Gavin often paints the night. Drawn to the darkness

Gavin painted Idyll (Eclipse) (2017) following a

when color is difficult to discern, he lets his imagination

pilgrimage to North Carolina’s Smoky Mountains to view

take over. His fantastic hues—acid greens and fluorescent

the total eclipse. Picturing the moment when celestial

oranges—are inspired by the vivid colors of Bermuda,

bodies align and day briefly turns to night, Gavin presents

his father’s homeland: pink hibiscus, green ferns, turquoise

the moon as a red orb, with the sun visible as a bright ring

water, and the purple iris-like Bermudiana flower. They

behind it. A dusky green pall darkens the sky and

also impart the intense emotions embedded in the land.

mountains, while electric pink foliage conveys the strange

Gavin has visited many times, researching his family

light and intoxicating effects of the astronomical event.

history as well as the history of slavery on the island. He

Gavin describes the painting as a picture of the self and

has painted local sites that are metaphorically colored by

the earth unified in a spiritual whole. He imagines our

a tragic past—from Jeffrey’s Cave, named for an escaped

place—and those who have come before us—in a

slave who found refuge there, to Tucker’s Point, the

continuous recycling of energy that changes material form

location of a historic cemetery which was covered over

but remains constant over eons.

by a golf course.

Gavin has recently made a number of paintings in

Gavin’s high-key colors are often rooted in a dark

black and white or monochrome, mimicking the limited

ground, painted on a black and blue denim. The

palette visible at night when he ventures out into the

unusual dimensions of his works are determined by the

woods near his studio outside Poughkeepsie or makes

eccentricities of his studio. Hanging his canvases directly

the trek to Bish Bash Falls. He is drawn to the waterfall

on the wall, they fit between beams or between the low

(the subject of a monumental new painting) for its

ceiling and a line of conduit. His largest works he paints

impressive size, but also because the park is often

on the floor, letting the outlines of the floorboards become

frequented by people of color. He visits after dark,

part of the composition. In doing so, he merges the

when the park is closed to the public, to study its dramatic

sites of his painting and the site where they are painted,

textures under the moonlight. In these New England

mingling his past and present.

nocturnes, the silhouetted conifers take on a sinister quality, evoking the unease a black man feels in the country at night.

Idyll (Eclipse), 2017; acrylic, gesso, ink, oil on denim; 56 × 134 inches; collection of Carole Server and Oliver Frankel

Alexandria Smith Alexandria Smith’s paintings tap into memories of

paintings makes a nod to the dual role that night plays

coming-of-age experiences. The pigtails, wide eyes, and

in a young person’s imagination—a time that can be both

sprawling limbs and body parts seen throughout her

magical and mortifying.

works are both familiar and unsettling. They suggest

Inspired by Titian’s Venus of Urbino, Between Delight

moments of self-discovery that can be both delicious

shows an obscured figure in pigtails reclining on a bed.

and awkward, if not traumatic. While Smith’s cartoon-

Set against a dark background of glitter that suggests a

like images suggest a child’s point of view and imagination,

starry sky, the image replaces a traditional representation

they also evoke the images from childhood stories—

of idealized female beauty and desire, with the image of

from nursery rhymes to fairy tales. These seemingly

an African-American girl too shy (or ashamed) to reveal

innocent but often dark morality tales articulate social

her face. In contrast, with the The Skin We Speak (2017)

expectations and taboos that twist the formation of identity

the night seems to offer a refuge for two young women

and ideas about race, gender, sexuality, and difference.

(or the self and a reflection) to explore a language spoken

In many works Smith frames the body as something

by the body, undeterred by the narratives of others.

slightly wild and unruly—a foreign terrain to be explored

Smith is influenced by the idea of doubling prevalent

like the night. The long rows of black hair in Up From

in Yoruba religion and African-American folklore,

Eden (2017) and We have never been modern (2017),

as well as the dramatic mix of illusion and reality in the

for example, suggest the out-of-control growth of Jack’s

representation of space in Baroque painting.

beanstalk. The dark tone of these and other Smith

The Skin We Speak, 2017; acrylic, oil and enamel on canvas; 84 × 60 inches; courtesy of the artist

Kenny Rivero Kenny Rivero paints stories from the Washington Heights

Ominous images of fire also repeat in Rivero’s works.

neighborhood where he grew up. Evoking the chaos of

A vestige of a vivid childhood memory of a burning

New York, sidewalks and architectural fragments collide

kitchen, the flames are both beautiful and frightening,

with partial figures in nearly cubist compositions that

like the artist’s recollection of the event itself. A more

mix flat planes of color with decorative pattern and

brutal image from Rivero’s urban upbringing is manifested

Paul Klee-like drawing. His impossible spaces suggest

in It Happened on the Corner (2014). A figure is crumpled

the imperfections of memory, while the enigmatic letters

on the sidewalk, the victim of some unspecified violence.

and numbers embedded in the scenes recall the initials

An evil spirit seems to hover over the body, while

or phone numbers of friends and family. The Dominican-

disembodied heads—friendlier ghosts of deceased loved

American artist often conjures the atmosphere of the

ones—float nearby. A skull wearing a baseball cap is

streets at night, with a sense of freedom and adventure

a reference to Rivero’s father who died when the artist

as well as fear. The light from streetlamps, cars, and

was in high school. References to spirits, Santeria, and

apartment windows punctures the intimidating darkness

Dominican vodun are peppered throughout his canvases.

and provides a sense of the magic of the nocturnal city.

In Ask About Me (2017) a face emerges from the pitch black.

In The Church is Empty (2014), the colored glow emanating

A third eye in the middle of his forehead symbolizes

from stained-glass windows looks warm and welcoming.

the ability to access spiritual planes or other levels of consciousness. The giant head towers over the small objects and vignettes below like an omniscient spirit, the worlds of the living and the dead intersecting in the night.

It Happened on the Corner, 2014; oil, acrylic, and collage on canvas; 60 × 84 inches; courtesy of the artist

Noah Davis Noah Davis made a huge impact in his life which was

Davis created Painting for My Dad (2011) in the wake

cut short at age 32. His skillful paintings depict everyday

of his father’s death. Carrying a lantern into the dark,

moments in African-American lives, while his

a figure is perched on the edge of a cliff or cave, peering

Underground Museum in Los Angeles provides a space

into the infinite starry night sky. Night has long been

for art in the everyday lives of many residents of the

associated with death—the sleep that does not end. Davis’

city. In his paintings, figures are often set against a dark

moving painting is even more poignant in the wake of his

or barren backdrop, creating a sense of isolation or

own death in 2015. Mera Rubell, the painting’s owner,

alienation. Many of the simple scenarios have a hint of the

once remarked that “it captured this fading-away, into a

surreal. With relatively few elements, Davis’s paintings

place that no one could follow,” but only a few short years

suggest a complex psychological narrative, bringing to mind

later Davis indeed followed into that dark night, as we all

the work of a number of artists he has been compared

someday will.

to, including Peter Doig, Balthus, Marlene Dumas, and Neo Rauch.

Painting for My Dad, 2011; oil on canvas; 76 × 91 inches; Rubell Family Collection

Josephine Halvorson Josephine Halvorson works en plein air, making paintings

night, and despite their similarities, each is different. The

out in the world in locations that have included northern

gray-green hue of the window frame varies from canvas

California, Tennessee, and Iceland (she travels with a

to canvas—perhaps with shifts in light—as do the

portable French easel). She notes that she is usually

position of the nails, evidence of the subjectivity and

within an arm’s length from the objects that she chooses

personal perceptions inherent to even the most direct of

to paint, which range from defunct mining equipment

representations. The paintings are titled with the date on

in Death Valley to the trees she encounters on her walks

which they were painted, a reminder that each is a

in the Berkshires where her studio is based. Her sensitive

unique portrait of a particular experience. Together they

observations produce images that are full of detail—

provide a study of time and a record of the incremental

exacting likenesses—that draw attention to the subtleties

changes in the night sky. Halvorson commented that

that we often overlook and hint at what she describes as

to paint a view of Rome under the cloak of darkness is

“the invisible yet perceptible feelings in the physical world.”

perhaps a response to the psychological weight of such

The artist created her “Night Window” works during

an undertaking—when the likes of Ingres may have

a residency at the French Academy at the Villa Medici

painted from that very same Villa Medici apartment. Ingres

in Rome between 2014 and 2015. Each painting is an

and others surely must have also pondered a similar night

iteration of a single view of the window in her atelier and

sky. Like the night itself, Halvorson’s “Night Windows”

the night sky beyond. Working in series for the first time,

captures the intimate and universal at once.

the artist painted each work over the course of a single

Night Window, April 25 – 26, 2015; Night Window, May 27 – 28, 2015; Night Window, August 5 – 6, 2015; 2015 oil on linen; 31 × 22 inches each; courtesy of Sikkema Jenkins & Co., New York; Photos: Daniele Molajoli

Dana Powell Dana Powell makes small-format paintings of everyday

In Ghost Drive (2017) a strange haze on the road

objects and vignettes. She often paints them on her lap,

suggests the apparition of the title. Yet the ambiguous

and they convey a sense of the intimacy of their making.

image suggests the uncertainty that we feel in the face of

Reminiscent of photographs in their visual directness

the unknown. Did we really see that? With Brass Eye,

and stripped-down subject matter, they are purely products

Powell transforms what at first appears to be a gray

of the artist’s imagination. Trained as a photographer,

monochrome into a door with a peephole. Conjuring the

Powell likes to suggest a complex narrative with a single

fear provoked by an unexpected knock at the door at night,

image, and her series of moody night drives are filled

the painting positions the viewer as the visitor under

with the suspense of an Alfred Hitchcock film. Painted

scrutiny. Rather humorously emphasizing the notion of a

on linen, the works are full of atmosphere and mystery,

space existing behind the flat surface of the picture plane,

the texture of the material adding to the play of light and

Powell puts a twist on the traditional metaphor of painting

shadow. The images of dark roads are lit with the glow of

as an open window.

headlights which pierce the blackness and bounce light off the asphalt. The desolate highways invite any number of imagined scenarios as we wonder what might be waiting around the next bend. Powell began these dark works in the wake of the 2016 election, and they convey the anxious tenor of the day.

Brass Eye, 2017; oil on linen; 12 × 9 inches; collection of James Fuentes

Cynthia Daignault Cynthia Daignault has said that she paints love and death.

For Daignault, the night is inextricably entwined

She also paints light and time. Perhaps they are the same

with the emergence of selfhood and the milestones of

thing in the end. Her serial meditations on light document

adolescence—including the first taste of sex, drugs, and

the sky as a constant in our lives while it records its

rock and roll. Night Walk (2015) was inspired by the many

constant changes. Daignault’s works propose life as a

nocturnal strolls the artist took as a teenager when she

string of ephemeral moments—moments she wants us to

would sneak out of her childhood home in Baltimore

pay attention to. She painted 40 Days and 40 Nights (2014)

while her parents were sleeping. She retraced her steps

outside a small, remote cabin in nearby Stockport,

with the same 35mm camera that she used in high school,

New York, where she spent a winter alone, painting.

and used the resulting photographs to make the series of

(Perhaps the title is a nod to the Genesis Flood and the

twelve paintings back in her studio. Her images of empty

destruction and recreation of the world). Working en

yards, glowing streetlights, and rather ominous-looking

plein air, Daignault painted two paintings each day over

trees evoke both the quiet side of night, but also its

the course of 40 days. She spent four to six hours painting

strangeness and what Daignault has called its “buzzing

a view through the trees in daylight and then, after a

brutality.” She imagines the “vicious insects, nocturnal

break, spent another four to six hours painting the view

predators, serial killers, incurable drunks, night terrors,

after the sun went down. Painting the same patch of

adulterers” that populate the night. Though Daignault’s

forest and sky night after night, she beautifully captures

many associations with night may elicit fear as much as

the dramatic changes in light and color—from both

illicit pleasure, she imagines the night not so much as

the pinks and oranges of sunset and the deep blues and

sinister but primal, its savagery tied to a certain kind of

blacks of the witching hours.

freedom. Painting the works in black, white, and gray, the artist recreates the limited palette that the eye is able to see at night, while making a nod to the history of blackand-white photography and the work of photographers such as Henry Wessel.

40 Nights, 2014 (details); oil on linen; 40 parts, 12 × 9 inches each; collection of Shelly and Neil Mitchell

Patrick Bermingham Patrick Bermingham has been painting the night for over

of foliage, become more clearly defined with patient

two decades, both inside his studio and outside under

viewing. Patches of light scattered through the wooded

the moonlight in locations as varied as Ontario’s Dundas

landscape also become increasingly brighter and more

Valley, the Georgian Bay archipelago, and rural Guatemala.

apparent. This moonlit path leads the viewer’s eyes across

His evocative nightscapes translate both our emotional

the surface of the painting in a rather unusual trajectory

responses to night and the perceptual, conveying the

from the bottom right and up to the left instead of taking

experience of how we see in the dark.

us into receding space and out the back of the painting.

The muted palette of Bermingham’s monumental

Titled after the first canto of Dante’s Inferno, in which

work, Midway on our path in life (2017), approximates the

Dante finds himself lost in a dark wood, the painting

limited gray, black, and white hues that we see at night

suggests the less obvious path—though still guided by the

(the eye’s cones, which allow us to see color, require

light. Midnight in the Clearing (2017) also plays with

bright light). The shift that occurs as night vision and the

usual expectations. The grassy ground of the painting

rods take over—when objects that at first appeared as

glows with the light of a full moon, but the bright orb is

general outlines reveal themselves in more detail—also

nowhere to be seen. Only the radiance it casts on the

happens with Bermingham’s paintings. The rather

ground below is visible. A small spark of light in the night

sketch-like appearance of the large painting, for example,

sky is the glimmer of the planet Venus.

with its silhouetted trees and expressionistic bursts

Midway on our path in life (2017); oil on canvas; 96 × 192 inches; courtesy of the artist

Caspar David Friedrich Two Men Contemplating the Moon, (1825–30)

The Lure of the Dark: Contemporary Painters Conjure the Night For centuries, painters have been drawn to the mysteries and marvels of the night. Literally and metaphorically altering our perceptions, the dark transforms the world around us. The hours between sundown and sunup are rife with promise, full of the wonder of dreams, but also a time when we are at our most vulnerable, fending off nightmares real and imagined. Thus the night invites a myriad of associations: sex, death, romance, magic, terror, alienation, and freedom, among them.

Nearly every generation has produced a nocturne that lingers in our individual and collective memory, from Caspar David Friedrich’s Two Men Contemplating the Moon (1825–30) to Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks (1942). These works speak to the universal emotions provoked by the night but also to the particular tenor of their time. The diverse group of artists in The Lure of the Dark are part of this long tradition, plumbing the depths of night and its poetic possibilities.

The Lure of the Dark Patrick Bermingham • William Binnie • Noah Davis • TM Davy Cynthia Daignault • Jeronimo Elespe • Cy Gavin • Shara Hughes Josephine Halvorson • Sam McKinniss • Wilhelm Neusser Dana Powell • Kenny Rivero • Alexandria Smith On view starting March 3, 2018 Major exhibition support is provided by the Horace W. Goldsmith Foundation, the Barr Foundation, and the Massachusetts Cultural Council.

1040 MASS MoCA Way North Adams, MA 01247 413.MoCA.111 • massmoca.org