Insiders Everywhere
- Unpopular Opinions
Eight large canvases fill the lofty 180m2 expanse of JD Malat’s ground floor gallery, the colours so rich and engulfing that they seem not only to drown out the whiteness between each piece, but also of themselves. Each canvas is at least one third to half white, if not a shade of cream, however this is relatively inperceivable due to the persuasive presence of the palette.
The paintings combine gestural figuration with mark-making, often juxtaposing built layers of colour and texture with areas that remain strikingly bare, exposing the untreated beige of canvas like naked skin – a moment of intrigue and respite.
Initially reading as abstract, transcendental, and romantic, Olaso’s utilitarian sensibility gives the work a minimalist objectivity that is unexpected.
The titling of the collection is surprisingly and humorously pragmatic – so much so that one can hardly differentiate the works from one another by title alone, something that might otherwise be a distinguishing feature.
Instead, the paintings identify themselves by their gestures, moments of silence and noise, and patterns produced by the painter’s hand, reading like footprints of colonies of birds, insects, or people as seen from a distance.
The discrepancy between the uniqueness of the panels and the sameness of the titles leaves room for interpretation, inviting both artist and viewer to become relinquished from the banality and expectations of a title. The pictures are left to speak for themselves.
Olaso’s energetic “non-still” lives reflect not only the lush natural environment of Bilbao, but the robust and industrious identity of its communities. The region has undergone significant financial and cultural regeneration over the past several decades since the construction of the Guggenheim Bilbao.
Situated on the lush coast of the Bay of Biscay, the region is politically autonomous and has remained historically distinct from surrounding Spain. With its own microclimate characterised by heavy rainfall, mountainous coastal topography, and an isolate language void of Latin roots, the Basque country is categorically disparate, with Bilbao its most populous and industrial city.
We caught up with Olaso at the opening of his show, The Garden, on 12 July to learn more about his process, his artworks, and what it’s like to live and work in Bilbao.
It’s how I describe my process of working and the different moments of this mental process. When I start working, I start by allowing accidents to happen through visceral actions – without thinking. Even putting the paint on the brush, I don’t know which colour I’m going to use. I work in this very unmeditated way. This is the Action.
Then I might end up with some lines, some shapes, which I have to make order out of. Like a chaos of the mind. After some hours of working, I have to make order, and that is the Analysis. For me this part is much more difficult. I might look at a painting and think, well this is working for me, I like it – but I’m not able to identify why.
I believe the most important thing is not to be able to represent flowers, but to be able to know why something is working. Why is something able to convey movement or composition? I spend a lot of time thinking about why something is working and why something else might not be working.
After that, I return with another Action phase. This is my only way of working, through these bursts of energy. Without them, the results have no movement, no vitality!
During the first stage, it’s much easier to work without thinking at all. Once you have been developing that work for some time, creating different layers, then you have embarked on a certain route and it becomes increasingly more difficult to work without thinking. Now there’s the potential to sabotage something you have done, and change the balance you have created; maybe with a line, a shape, a colour.
You can lose the balance very easily, and balance is the most important part of my work.
That’s why it becomes more and more important to work carefully the farther along you progress. You slowly lose this freedom of potential.
Both are an essential part of my way of working so I can’t put one before the other. Although the paintings start with a moment of action – of visceral action – and after proceeds the analysis, I can’t consider one more important than the other.
When I started creating the series, I knew I would like to transform [the gallery] into my environment, my universe, my space where I find calm, quiet, and where I observe my life and environment from.
I wanted to move those feelings to the space of the gallery. Because of that I consider the works of this exhibition one greater work that surrounds you and is created uniquely for the gallery space alone.
Francis Beacon, and his writing about accidents, which is very important to me. I am also heavily influenced by abstract expressionism and Jackson Pollock. Pollock used to talk about the act of painting being the work, whereas the painting itself as an accident. Like a product of the act. I feel very close to that sentiment.
For me, the representation is not important. I’m not seeking to represent the flower. The flowers are just a vehicle that carry expression of what is happening in the mind.
I have to say that development of colour from the start of the painting to the finish is a totally entropic process. It’s absolutely disordered – its not pre-planned. I never know if the colour will be more saturated or if it will turn more or less intense in the process of creating that work. It’s one thing I really enjoy about painting – the process surprises me; it goes faster than me.
I never think about which colour I will use three seconds from now. Choosing the colour to use is an unconscious process. I’ve never tried to create a palette of colours in order to create a likeness to reality or to an imaginary world of my own creation. No, it’s absolutely a moment of improvisation.
Similarly, if you were to ask me when I did a certain part of the work, I couldn’t tell you. For me it’s important to get inside a zone and a lot of time I don’t know how I have done something. I don’t remember. Something has transpired during the moment that my mind was occupied with the action. Sometimes it’s also difficult to be in that moment.
I think having lived in Bilbao and in Basque country in general has greatly influenced my generation from the political and integration problems that we have suffered. In general, we are introspective people, and it’s not very common for us to talk with strangers. Because of that, I have developed a way of expressing myself with painting and with art.
On the other hand, Bilbao and the region where I live is surrounded by nature and by sea. This has imparted a lot onto my way of living and my way of thinking. I moved myself from a big village close to Bilbao to a smaller town closer to nature to live more in contact with nature.
Because of that, my paintings – as I used to say, my paintings are a self-portrait of my life — are plentiful in nature, in plants, and in the elements I am surrounded by.
On the transformation of Bilbao – the most important thing about that is not the aesthetic or architectural transformations. The most important thing is that the transformation happened at the same time as a social transformation: the end of terrorism, the starting of a new way of life here between the Basque country and the Spanish people and government. I think that these occurring together – the social transformation and the urban transformation – is the thing that makes it such a large success.
There’s a lot of nature in Bilbao, yes, but also in my house. I grow my own vegetables at home. Those things are also inside my mind when I create an abstract piece. I go to that place that I recognise in my mind, and in that way I have that garden in my mind as well as in life.
I think the coexistence between the cities and the natural space and environments must be a priority for society. In my case, for example, I was born in Bilbao and moved from the city to a small village which is surrounded by nature. My passion is my sailing boat and going to the sea… all these experiences that connect a person with nature make a huge impact on a person’s development.
I don’t usually do sketches, as I think that in doing them I will lose the element of improvisation and spontaneity. I prefer to approach each work directly and without thinking too much before working. One thing that is really important in my process of working is the music. Music is part of my environment – of my garden – and it’s very present in my way of working. Always!
The answer is not singular. On one hand, showing a work in a fantastic place, for example in Iceland – or I remember a collector writing me to tell me that my work is now hanging in a fantastic place, hanging to face Lake Michigan – to hear that is incredible.
On the other hand, to place some of my works in the middle of the city, in a place that is not surrounded by nature, like Berlin… it’s a completely different environment. My works aims to create a place there in the city – in this case my garden – surrounded by calm, Spring, and nature. For me, that’s also a very exciting [prospect], so I enjoy that as well.
The work must speak for itself. Maybe you can [provide] some additional information, about the artist for example, and maybe knowing this information can help you appreciate the artwork’s details, but the first impact of the work – the first feeling – for me that’s most important.
The Garden is on view through 8 August at JD Malat
Claridge House, 30 Davies St
London W1K 4NB
more info here
