David Cauchi

David Cauchi’s paintings are an unusual pairing of cartoon illustration and surrealism in ways that explore esoteric content, often through a satirical or humorous lens. His compositions are minimal, consisting of only a few elements. Cauchi’s artworks usually feature distinctive outlines combined with thin, washy paint. The overall effect is almost at odds with the subject matter presented and is unique to his work. The colour choices and treatment of paint give these paintings, ostensibly of humble domestic content, a sense of the uncanny.

The three presented here are portraits — with a twist. The first is a caricature self-portrait that intentionally accentuates and characterises particular features of the artist. Cauchi is shown as a floating head, absent of body, with a thick, black X over his face and the word “No!” below in block lettering. Cauchi is very much known for his self-portraits and this work utilises his characteristic dark humour. The second portrait features a faceless man depicted in front of an artwork by Richard Killeen. The irony in this work is that of painting a portrait of someone without facial features; rather, the most descriptive and animated thing here is a Killeen painting. The third work presents a portrait of art dealer Robert Heald in his suit jacket at a desk. This portrait appears ordinary enough in subject matter, except for the colour of Heald’s skin, which is depicted in a strong, sickly shade of green. Here Cauchi pokes fun at his own dealer and friend.

Those who have a penchant for the absurd will be drawn to Cauchi’s work. There appears to be a fair number of artworld in-jokes at play and, ultimately, it seems only Cauchi knows the punchlines. His paintings are like riddles — they massage the brain while being visually engaging.

Peter Stichbury’s portraits make for fascinating viewing. On one level, they are cartoonish likenesses of anonymous characters — skilfully rendered and strikingly composed. On another level, they are fascinating studies of the human experience, meshed with pop culture and contemporary media platforms. These works subtly invoke a contextual framework of digital photography, image-editing software, and 3D-animation modelling. This is overlayed with further references to fashion photography and magazine advertising, which makes their hand-painted quality all the more intriguing.

Stichbury’s paintings are often unnerving. They present human likenesses that are too stylised to be considered realistic –cartoonish and unnaturally smooth – yet these characters have complexity. They are drawn from eclectic source imagery and given invented personae, which somehow imbues them with a certain sense of the uncanny. This je ne sais quoi has won Stichbury international acclaim. In a 2012 article on the artist, American poet and art critic John Yau states, “In his best paintings, Stichbury walks a fine line between the unblemished and the grotesque without showing his hand, either literally or metaphorically. We tend to associate flawlessness with beauty, but Stichbury’s smooth, perfectly modulated, tight surfaces are unsettling. His paintings don’t strike me as portraits of people but of people who want to look as smooth and flawless as dolls.”

▲ 1 John Yau, “Superfluous Men Can’t Get No Satisfaction,” Hyperallergic, November 18, 2012, https://hyperallergic.com/60434/ superfluous-men-cant-get-no-satisfaction/

▲ 2 Peter Stichbury and Emma Bugden, Peter Stichbury: The Alumni (Auckland: Starkwhite, 2010)XXX.

▲ 3 “Peter Stitchbury Biography,” Ocula, https://ocula.com/artists/peter-stichbury/

The artist himself has described his mode of painting as “a crosspollination between old and new, or neoclassical portraiture.” Riffing on pop culture and fashion magazines, Stichbury’s subjects are “characterised by a graphic flatness and minute attention to detail,” and described by Justin Paton as possessing “nearly oppressive flawlessness.” An online biography states, “His subjects share glossy complexions and overstated facial elements, the most striking of which are wide-set eyes and a mesmerising middle-distance gaze.”

The two works included in this catalogue present a meaningful cross-section of Stichbury’s artistic oeuvre. As standalone works, each is a fine example of the technical approach and artistic vision that have made him famous. Together, they hum. Both subjects have the middle-distance stare, unreadable expression and unblemished complexion that his paintings are known for. While Stichbury’s subjects are often fictitious, these two works refer to individuals who reported having a near-death experience (NDE) and are titled as such: Julia Fischer, NDE and Dr Eben Alexander, NDE, 2008. These titles give the viewer part of the story, but the uncanny sense that there is something more to each of the paintings – a unreadable subtext or just-out-of-view piece of the puzzle – is unshakeable.

Stichbury’s works explore themes of identity and the human condition. Through his invented personae and eclectic sources of inspiration, he highlights the constructed nature of identity and the many influences that shape it. His paintings challenge the viewer to consider the complexities of human experience and the ways in which we navigate our sense of self in a constantly changing world. Despite their stylised nature, Stichbury’s paintings also offer a sense of intimacy and connection with their subjects. His characters may appear dolllike and uncanny, but they are also imbued with a sense of humanity that draws the viewer in. Through his use of vivid colours and intricate details, Stichbury creates works that are both otherworldly and deeply relatable.

93 Peter Stichbury, Dr Eben Alexander, NDE, 2008

2018 oil on linen signed, dated and title inscribed 600 × 500mm

EST $45,000 $65,000

PROVENANCE

The K' Road Collection, Auckland; Acquired from Michael Lett, Auckland.

EXHIBITIONS

Altered States, Michael Lett, Auckland, 2018.

Peter Robinson (Kāi Tahu) is one of Aotearoa’s most important living artists. He has created a critically engaged and internationally acclaimed body of work over the course of four decades. His notable accolades include winning the Walters Prize in 2008 and being designated a New Zealand Arts Foundation Laureate in 2016. His work is held in prestigious collections throughout this country and other parts of the world.

Robinson trained at Ilam School of Fine Arts in the 1980s. He began his artistic career as a painter and later pursued sculpture, though in recent years his practice has evolved into object-based installation. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, he rose to prominence as an influential voice in bicultural discourse in contemporary art, creating work that explored complex questions of ethnicity and identity. His works, which are playful, thought provoking and often ironic, investigate the complexities of the bicultural discourse of that time.

Low Interest High Interest is a painting from 1995, from a series that engages in an entertaining critique of the complex relationship between art and markets, with an intertwined discourse around ethnicity. This series follows on from Robinson’s highly regarded Percentage Paintings, which explore his own status as a Māori artist of Kai Tāhu whakapapa.

Leonard wrote on Robinson’s 1995 exhibition of such works: “In his latest show, New Lines/Old Stock, at Christchurch’s Brooke/Gifford Gallery, Robinson has thrown the arguments of his Percentage Paintings into even sharper relief. During the opening, a professional hawker stood outside the gallery cajoling passersby to partake of bargains within. The works look like handmade advertisements for a low-rent massive clearout sale. They are all done in red and black and white – the Māori colours, used in kowhaiwhai, painting, and taniko weaving. Using strongly made slogans like ‘LOST TRIBAL ARTIFACTS/CHEAP/SWAP AND SELL/YOU GET MORE WITH LESS/ WHYTES LTD TRUSTED DEALERS FOR OVER 150 YEARS/MANY LINES REDUCED’, Robinson’s sales pitch is an ironic comment both on the present (the commodity status of contemporary Māori art) and history (the daylight robbery of Māori land).”

Low Interest High Interest is an excellent example of Robinson’s work from an important era of his oeuvre. It explores some of the key artistic themes of its time — themes that remain relevant today.

This painting belongs to a group of works by Ralph Hōtere (1931–2013; Te Aupōuri, Te Rarawa) typically classified as the Baby Iron series. Some of these were framed using Hōtere’s iconic, recycled sashwindow frames, while others were embellished with the equally iconic driftwood frames crafted by Hōtere’s friend and collaborator, Roger Hickin. A common feature among all these paintings is their partial or complete composition from aluminum – a material that the artist often distressed in various ways. Whether it was with scratches, burnishing, or lines scorched with a blow-torch, in these artworks Hōtere probed the physical limits and properties of the material. They serve as a continuation of his painting style that began in the mid-1970s when he left his Song Cycle paintings on stretched canvas out in the rain.

Hōtere relocated to the town of Port Chalmers, in Dunedin, following his Frances Hodgkins fellowship in 1969. During the 1970s, he became heavily involved in the Save Aramoana campaign, which opposed the construction of an aluminum smelter in that settlement. The proposed smelter threatened significant pollution and detrimental impacts on the local environment. This successful campaign stands as a significant example of a community’s selfdetermination in New Zealand. Hōtere’s use of aluminum was undoubtedly influenced by this protest movement; however, it continued well after the protest concluded. The persistent presence of aluminum in his work can be likened to a long echo of a dissenting voice, revealing the artist’s delight in the poetics of opposition.

What distinguishes this painting from others of its kind is that Hōtere left large swathes of the aluminum untouched. Generally, Hōtere altered his surfaces dramatically, battering, beating and burning them until they appeared vastly different from the original materials. In this instance, he intervened with an effortless and unchoreographed flurry of mechanical burnishing, leaving the rest of the surface untouched. The effect is akin to that of dropping a pebble into a still lake, a burst of human energy disrupting a mirrorlike vista of serene tranquillity. Mirrors evoke a captivating sense of infinity, as no matter which angle you view them from, there seems to be no end to the world inside — they can seemingly go on forever.

Cilla McQueen, New Zealand poet and one-time partner of Hōtere’s, has likened the surface of the Baby Iron works to a “hall of mirrors” that “tracks inwards to yourself.”