The artist’s statement:
Jennifer A. Goddard
A response to society’s injustices and convulsions… or an escape into pure colour, light and line
By Jennifer A. Goddard
Previously published in WestmountMag.ca
When I was around 4, I drew on the toilet seat with my mother’s lipstick. Man, what a gorgeous, slick surface – I still remember it – and the glossy, bright red swirls. Fortunately, I had laughing parents who signed me up for distance-learning art classes some years later.
(A cautionary tale: Those same parents later nudged me away from fine art school towards something more hireable: Graphic Art. Which was fine, I became a bona fide breadwinner, but it led to years unlearned and paintings undone. If you are an aspiring artist, be one. If you have children who are, let them be artists.)
If you are an aspiring artist, be one. If you have children who are, let them be artists.
Of course, it’s hard. Making art is rarely “fun”, it’s exhausting, frustrating, and turns you inside out. But it’s a need as real as air, and an occupation not done for its commercial value, a rare thing lately. And you likely won’t be any kind of wealthy. (The art world, particularly for women artists, is a subject for another rant some other time.) But when a piece works, when it reaches another person deeply, it makes you – dare I say it – happy.
My approach is either one of response or escape: the activist responds to society’s injustices and convulsions; the escapist is lost in pure colour, light, line and composition. I visually comment on my world – our world – through my work, across a spectrum of my own emotional responses, from enchantment through rage. There are narratives, but not generally by design. I’m expressing how I feel, seeking dialogue with the viewer, hoping to find a shared truth.
I think the overarching drive of my work is truth
I look for truth in the human psyche and condition, truth in a lived, sensory experience, truth in the natural world…. and truth in the accuracy of line, value and colour. Because, somewhat subversively these days, I believe in skill. Mastery of drawing, composition and colour are the absolute truths that underlie any successful creative approach or interpretation.
‘Mastery of drawing, composition and colour are the absolute truths that underlie any successful creative approach or interpretation.’
Technically, my work is Contemporary Realism. Representational, figurative. Makes sense, I’ve been closely examining everything around me, probably since birth. My process is simple, best encapsulated by poet Mary Oliver: “Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”
I look outward, and in doing so, my inward self is inevitably embedded in the work. All my failed work is when I have had no feeling for my subject. Again, Mary Oliver: “Attention without feeling is only a report. An openness – an empathy – is necessary if the attention is to matter.”
So, this is not impassive attention. Sometimes the observation is so intense, so energy-burning, you’re starving by the session’s end. In the age of the swipe, the act of looking, and seeing, often for hours, is a sort of mastery in itself.
‘In the age of the swipe, the act of looking, seeing, often for hours, is a sort of mastery in itself.’
Active, focused observation also becomes a dialogue with the subject. In the case of figures and portraits, the sitter exudes their psychological state, readily absorbed by any artist open to it. In my case, this very much affects the approach. The chemistry moving between me and my subject will dictate its medium, the palette and even the scale.
A good example is when I worked with professional artists model Véronique Verhoeven. Our sittings revealed the powerhouse she is: diminutive, deceptively delicate, bohemian, activist, tango dancer and fierce feminist, which sparked conversations leading us to the routine silencing of women. The image for Véro came when I wrapped her thigh-length, trademark braid around her throat, “choking” her voice. She gave me an expression of defiance and disdain that required a larger-than-life 24 x 30 inches format.
The same convergence occurred with the accomplished model Lyne Charlebois. She is “pulpeuse”, a lusciously fleshy model. I had brought fabric and dresses to our sittings for experimentation. The moment she wrapped a red one around her shoulders, she became monumental and unassailable in the face of society’s cruelty and ignorance. The resulting piece Bull Fighter confronts society’s BS regarding body size, and stares it down in a 22 x 33 inches mixed-medium drawing that celebrates the taunting red.
For The Cosmetic Project (2016) I continued these themes through a 4 x 12-ft. triptych using only cosmetic products to execute the three panels: Corrector creams to depict homophobia and the obscene calls for conversion therapy; concealers to depict sizeism and the stigma surrounding body weight; and eye shadow to depict ageism and the gradual invisibility of women as they age.
2018 provoked a potent response, at the peak of the Trump era and the rising white supremacist movement, combined with the parallel crescendos of MeToo, BlackLivesMatter and the climate crisis. That year, at my solo show Obligate Seeder at Montreal’s ERGA gallery, I exhibited full-size panels of my poems alongside their sister paintings, both art and writing published as well in a book* by the same name. The title draws from the ability of certain plants to regenerate after wildfires – I was responding to incendiary world events in art and words, with rage, sadness, sarcasm… but ultimately hope.
‘There is nothing like reliving through paint a sky you have seen, the body of a tree, the personality of the weather or the slanting shadows of a time of day.’
Alternatively, art can be my absolute escape. There is peace in still life, the quiet attention to everyday objects… but landscape is the ultimate escape. The endless, mad riches of seasons, light and colour that we are so, so lucky to have and witness.
There is nothing like reliving through painting a sky you have seen, the body of a tree, the personality of the weather or the slanting shadows of a time of day. This is drawing and painting with the blessed removal of the intellect.
Do I use photographs? Certainly, for reference after an initial sitting with a model, which for me is crucial for connection and chemistry with my subject. While I’d love 20, 30, and 40-hour sittings, they are as unaffordable as they are impractical. With inexperienced sitters, too, gravity and boredom can lead to a leaden blankness – I use photography to capture a flash of the model’s thoughts that will show in their eyes and corners of the mouth.
‘… your mind took the picture, and you are painting the memory of what you saw and felt in that moment – the truth of it.’
As for landscapes, nothing matches plein air, best for quick studies that capture the fleeting moment. Shots will come back to the studio as references. I only use my own shots (I have huge folders of these): If you have not been there, seen it, heard it, felt its temperature, light and chemistry in your nerve endings, it won’t work. Because, in fact, your mind took the picture, and you are painting the memory of what you saw and felt in that moment – the truth of it.
jgoddardartist.com
Instagram: goddard.jennifer
Facebook: artistJenGoddard
* Obligate Seeder is available at blurb.com
Feature image: Brilliant morning, Okotoks – Oil on canvas
Jennifer A. Goddard works in oils and multi-medium drawing. She focuses on her great love for the natural world, the magic of light, and on the languages of the face and figure. A lifelong artist and largely self-taught, she studied for three summers at The Banff Centre, Alberta, at Studio Escalier in Paris and Argenton, France (2015-16), and under various teachers in parallel to a career in advertising. She has shown in many solo and group exhibitions and has works in private collections in Canada, Europe and the US. • jgoddardartist.com
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