Utopia

The textural surface is composed of oil paint, acrylic paint, plaster, sawdust, iron filings, beer, motor oil, bitumen, grass, dirt and sand.
The language of what it is composed of acts as part of the image.
The figures are painted thinly, in de-saturated colour. If you look carefully you can see that the landscape actually comes through them - so that the land is more real than the men who are flying through it.
They are transitory and the land around them is far, far more real than they could ever be.

It is meant asa sister piece to "Journeymen". These flying men are the dreams of the men fom tht piece - though they are dreaming that they are flying, they still cannot get off the ground.


	Utopia Available for sale By Paul D Robertson. Mixed Media 485 x 155cms. Huge.


	The textural surface is composed of oil paint, acrylic paint, plaster, sawdust, iron filings, beer, motor oil, bitumen, grass, dirt and sand. The language of what it is composed of acts as part of the image. The figures are painted thinly, in de-saturated colour. If you look carefully you can see that the landscape actually comes through them - so that the land is more real than the men who are flying through it. They are transitory and the land around them is far, far more real than they could ever be. It is meant asa sister piece to "Journeymen". These flying men are the dreams of the men fom tht piece - though they are dreaming that they are flying, they still cannot get off the ground.


	And here's a shot of JOURNEYMEN, and the text, as they are closely related:



	The symbolism is layered, and not limited to narrative but actually manages to cross over into contemporary art for once (eek!)OK - WelllllllFirstly, the figures are all men and the title of the work is "Journeymen." They are spread out across the desert as if they were going somewhere and yet none of them actually appear to be moving. This is a pretty direct metaphor for how I believe we really exist as men - we are all trying to go somewhere - we don't know where - and the most important thing is to look like we are moving - even though, of course, we are actually not at all. That it is a desert is important also - the setting is our lives, our contemporary existence. Desolate indeed. The surface; the very paint itself, contains everything that I could think of (and had handy) that was definitively masculine. It is made from plaster and paint, sand, dirt, beer, motor oil, grass, bourbon, cigarette ash, some facial hair somewhere… other things, I am sure, that I don't remember. These ingredients are mixed into the paint.The landscape hence became thick and richly textured. I painted the figures themselves thinly and with limitations on my palette - they are far less real than the landscape that they are painted onto - as our own lives are transient while the earth endures. They are in some kind of rough uniform to imply hegemony and the inescapability of our similarity as men. We are all, fundamentally; endemically doomed to similarity. We cannot escape from who we are.And finally the one figure not looking up - in the third panel from the left. This is me. I am wearing a suit that is too big for me. The pants fall loosely over my shoes and the cuffs cover my hands. I have never been able to share fulfilling these roles; this contemporary manhood in its glory and also in its doom.