Larvaic, eruptive, layered and encrudded, the work of Michael McSwiney in his latest offering, ‘Code Orange,’ at the Clonakilty Community Arts Centre (CCAC), both quickens and slows on the eye. It is the mark of a master who understands that great composition demands a full range of time signatures: from the slow build up of texture and ‘quiet’ darkness, to the sudden spray and spill of ‘loud’ colour, acting like a thunderbolt on the retina. That sudden spray might also be an act of erasure: the movement of a judicious razor blade over a ridge of texture, revealing a line of colour hidden beneath. Painting, for McSwiney, is a continual process of sedimentation and excavation, of contemplation and eruption, of play, accident and revelation.
It is this complexity, suspended in a unified whole, that holds the viewer’s gaze, that draws it back again and again. For McSwiney always gives us the slow reveal underneath the quickening, always resists the temptation–ever present in painting–to present something ‘that will simply do.’ Wary of falling into patterns of replication, of being seduced by his own physical action and gesture, he works until each piece attains its own accident of being, its own unlooked for moment of revelation. McSwiney sets a high standard for himself, expects nothing less than the unexpected, than a living beat in the smallest of his works.
None of this happens by just thinking about it, of course. McSwiney works with substances, variously solid, airborne and liquid: sand, glue, oil, acrylic, acrylic spray, water spray, respectively tipped, spilled, brushed, sprayed, and razed. There is method here, as in any language; there is a searched for clarity: between the tipping, spraying and spilling there is a keen eye watching and guiding, shuddering the canvas; like a drummer, feeling for the beat; like a conductor pausing his orchestra when all the elements have reached a crescendo; gently pulling it all back to introduce a quiet passage, then shuddering the canvas again.
Great painting is a kind of alchemy, transforming the inchoate substances of the earth into revelatory moments, when the cathartic, the contemplative and the beautiful unite. Is also a conversation, between artist, material, composition and the history of making. We stand on the shoulders of those who have come before us, respond to the materials which speak back to us in a certain way, guided in turn by the impulses of our own body, conditioning and history. In this way art is a crucible of our being. It is not something decorative for the wall; rather it is a treasure of the spirit, that may enrich the heart when looked upon. McSwiney’s works are exactly this: mood-laden moments of eruption and revelation, beautiful to behold, a boon for any wall.
‘Code Orange’ is only the second exhibition in the Clonakilty Community Arts Centre’s temporary housing at No. 8 Kent St. Located on the ground floor, opposite the Old Mill Library, it comprises three rooms: front, middle and back, the back room also doubling as a workshop space. It is already home to the Clon Writers’ Circle, a writers’ group, meeting every Monday between 11am and 1pm; Clonakilty Artists Together (CAT) which meet every Thursday; and Clonakilty Open Mic, which convenes on the first Sunday of every month. Coming up in the centre are also a number of book launches: on November 14, 4-6pm, CCAC will host the launch of ‘Monster Club No. 2,’ a comic book collaboration between Ari Grounds (11) and Daniel Fredricksen (10); then on November 21 at 7pm, the writers group, Blow Ink (a word play on ‘blow-in’), will launch their latest zine, titled ‘Shelter,’ a multi-lingual collection of poems, stories and prints. One week later CCAC will launch its third exhibition at Kent St: ‘Printed Matter Only,’ a printmaking showcase, full of outstanding, affordable prints, which will run up until Christmas.
Never has there been a greater need for art and community. Even as we celebrate Samhain, benefiting from the tireless efforts of creators, such as the team at Geata Arts, market pressures are closing galleries, and putting others on notice. The only answer to the high commercial rents that are squeezing out the arts sector is philanthropic patronage, either private or public. Perhaps it is time to change the conversation: instead of community arts centres and galleries calling desperately for help, perhaps as communities–community groups, schools, businesses – we should sit down together and work out what we want for our towns. How do we imagine our townscapes in ten, twenty years time? What do we want for our communities? As a case in point CCAC has until the end of February 2027 in Kent St. If we remain passive, the community platforms we currently have – to share everything, from children’s comic books to the masterful McSwineys of the world, will simply disappear.
Showing at the Clonakilty Community Arts Centre October 31-November 21, 8 Kent St, Clonakilty | open 11am-5pm, Tuesday – Saturday | clonarts.ie
