the artist
An expressionist artists’ work is sometimes inspired by an occurrence, an event, politics or even an image that disturbed them. For example, in 2010 my father died and within days of arriving back to Auckland from his funeral in Christchurch, I had primed and began painting several large pieces which took a couple of weeks to complete. This has been my way of dealing with pain, loss, grief or disappointment since childhood. And while I suppose to some that may seem like a callous way to dismiss my fathers passing, it allowed me to press on with life in a reasonable fashion whereas my sister was completely overwhelmed and paralysed by her grief for years.
Over the years other series were initiated by strong emotional feelings, for instance the series ‘He Hoia’ (Maori for ‘A soldier’) began literally following a two-minute news feed showing a group of soldiers captured by the Taliban, one of which was a New Zealand soldier who looked so thoroughly frightened I struggled to remove that image from my own mind. I didn’t paint the guy per se because that’s not really what expressionists do; rather it became an exploration of what I felt. Interestingly, one piece in particular sold quickly and I don’t think the gallery owner, Richard (from The International Art Centre – who represented me at the time) quite understood the emotional factor. This particular piece was around 60cm by 80cm. I wrapped the frame with pieces of canvas that I had torn into lengths and painted an optical white, resembling bandages. In the centre I glued a large cross that I had fashioned from raw lengths of thin wood and natural hessian string. Beneath the cross was hand-written in black paint ‘He Hoia’. I didn’t know or meet the client who was an older woman and while I don’t pretend at being some weird clairvoyant, I don’t think it unreasonable to assume that she lost either a father, husband or son to war. Sometimes something so simple can access something of import in someone else. And I guess, affecting someone deeply in this context is the greatest compliment.
‘Ko nga mea o te rangi, me nga mea o tea o nei’ was a series centred around the acceptance and acknowledgement of my Maori heritage. Being a blue-eyed blonde (like my Dutch father) often made me feel a little ostracized by my mother and siblings, and also around other Maori. I mean, I don’t really know why it bothered me so much; more so when I was very young and less over the ensuing years but certainly on canvas I was able to just accept and know who I am. It is an ancient saying that translates as ‘Of the heavens and of the earth’, a saying that is historically common among many cultures and is in reference to our connectedness to the land and our ancestors. And it seemed a fitting way to let go my own turmoil.
When my daughters attended a Catholic school for a few years (as non-preference) I painted several religious pieces to explore what I really felt about religion. As a child, I grew up a Jehovah Witness, which I neither continued nor pursued as an adult. Which is not to say that I don’t accept or respect other people’s religious beliefs because I do. However, what I recall liking were the illustrations which were beautiful and tell me images of Christ aren’t loaded with gravitas! Also, the language and proverbs are both lyrical and poetic and I don’t wonder that it is just by accident that religion has lasted for thousands of years. Also, ironically (or not) it paves the way to more dark or nihilistic pieces which I found I could access in Ecclesiastes: Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas – vanity, vanity, all is vanity. I love my religious pieces.
Conversely ‘Sex and drugs and rock and roll’ was instigated by an invitation from a local art gallery to submit an artwork for charity under said theme. I ran with it, submitted one but painted several pieces in the pop-art style of Lichtenstein and Warhol, instantly conjuring an era and social movement (amidst the turmoil of the Vietnam War) that paved the way to liberalism and the fastest way to personal freedom – sex and drugs and rock and roll!
As we grow into adulthood, it seems only natural to want to partake in discussions that present a bit more of a challenge to everyday banal occurrences. In particular I enjoyed pushing the envelope, others might call it pressing buttons, I guess trying to understand the mindset behind political decisions, education, justice, religion et cetera. Unfortunately for me it never really went down too well at times and in honesty my angle was never to upset but grow through dialogue with friends in a safe environment. More oft than not however those conversations were ignored, shut down, pushed aside…displaced. And so, the series ‘Displaced Conversations’ was born. My desire at discovery became private and it allowed me to release myself from forced friendships and not feel bad for it.
I guess painting for me has been a way to maturity; to grow through expression in a medium I’m comfortable with. I no longer feel the need for validation. And the nicest space for an expressionist artist is where it’s just you, the paint and the canvas. Like free-falling into freedom; a void loaded with possibility. A truth no-one else has access to. And as the academics quite rightly state, it is spontaneous and subconscious, rebellious, anarchic, highly idiosyncratic and at times nihilistic. It’s child-like and wondrous. In this space I can breathe fully. I can let go and I can be free. And when I paint its an invitation into my world.
The only reason you should buy art is because you love it. And if you happen to be in the possession of one of my pieces then I am deeply humbled and I graciously thank you!
Mia Franssen