Sea
Most artists would acknowledge that they
are on their own personal journey. Throughout their life and work, there
is a continuous searching. More recently, Sax Impey has quite literally
been on a voyage and, by the very nature of voyages, it has been one of
discovery. His interest in the sea has led, over the last three years, to
sail training and subsequently to crewing on yacht deliveries. These have
become a regular feature of his life, the most recent a transatlantic crossing
this summer.
These are not frivolous trips, at least not for Sax, for they
involve hard physical work, technical expertise and a mental strength that
to the lay person would be unimagined.There is a watch system where many
nights are spent by the crew looking for anything untoward. Just the endless
sea, the sky and the stars are all that the crew have and, of course, their
own thoughts. “What I have out there is an immense amount of thinking
time where you can’t do anything else,” says Sax. “You
can’t be affected by the day–to- day stuff of life, all that
has to go because you are unable to do anything about it in that space.”
Sax like the other crew members is affected by his tiredness which has the
power to distort. “The idea of day and night as a rhythm stops. Everyone
becomes very tired and you stop interacting with each other. There is a
shared experience; a very singular and slightly edgy one”.
This sort of experience is life changing and has inevitably
had a profound influence on the work that has followed. It hasn’t
come out of a conscious desire to find new inspiration. Being alone with
himself has given Sax time to confront, question and analyse and so he admits
it would be impossible for it to not change the work because “the
nature of the experience is so immersive”. So all consuming has this
experience been that he uses the word “edgy” to describe the
changes in his work. I suspect like all major shifts there must have been
fear and at times scary moments along the way but the change would not be
so great if that were not true. The experience seems to have been a spiritual
one, almost a feeding of Sax’s soul but this is not language with
which he is comfortable. His language is one of cosmic matter and of particles.
"I feel very aware of the fact that the stuff of
us is a fleeting arrangement of matter that has come together. Parts, billions
of years old, that will go on to form other structures. Consciousness, this
particular arrangement, is thinking about itself i.e. me. Whether that consciousness
is individual or whether it is the universe thinking about itself that has
put this arrangement together, who knows?” Sax believes that it is
impossible to not think like this when you are alone at night at sea completely
away from any light other than the stars. He tells me about a Large Hadron
Collider which is being built in Switzerland, a huge 27 kilometer circumference
tunnel to prove the theorem of ‘Higgs boson’. Dave Rainwater,
a researcher, says “The Higgs boson is the only reasonable explanation
we have for the origin of mass. Without it all fundamental particles would
be without mass and the universe would be very different. The elemental
composition of the cosmos would be radically different, stars would shine
differently and we probably wouldn’t exist”.
It is not surprising that it has been dubbed the “God
Particle” by the Nobel prize-winning physicist Leon Lederman who believes
it is a particle that bestows mass on all other particles. Sax feels that
at their core, the scientists and he himself are still asking the same questions
“What am I doing here? Why are we here? So for Sax the interest in
science and the cosmos is in a sense a means to an end; a way of getting
at the fundamental questions of our existence. Others may seek to answer
these questions through theology, philosophy and religion. The journey may
be different but the questions will be the same. I am reminded of the first
Quakers who were known as “Seekers” because they were seeking
a different way and through that seeking a better understanding of the world
in which they lived.
Sax does not have a scientific background and his interest in
science is not about transferring his new found knowledge into a pictorial
narrative but the asking of these fundamental questions is certainly creating
change within the work. A figurative aspect has entered the painting and
he says “ I am rediscovering the pencil and going back to something
quite basic”. Some of those who have looked at the new work have been
surprised by the drawings of the sea but he believes that everything he
has ever done has been looking at the natural world. However, he admits
that “maybe the things I have chosen to look at in the natural world
have not been so readily available to our sight as the sea”. Previously
the end result has been more obscure whereas some of this work is a little
more overt.
This exhibition has the same intensity as previous work.
I, like others, marvelled at the dot paintings and the concentration and
hours of dedicated labour that would have been required to complete them.
To me the process involved felt like a form of meditation but again I don’t
think Sax would be happy with the use of that word. The drawings in this
show have that same power; a power that seems to emanate from strength of
concentration that is either about his passion or perhaps some force beyond
himself and therefore cannot be understood. There is one drawing in the
exhibition of a tree, lonely in front of an empty sea which is unlikely
to exist in nature. If it had been dreamt it would not be surprising. In
the tiredness that Sax felt during those long nights he saw a tree. As if
it were a waking dream he saw the tree “as simple as that” he
says.
Some of the new work also has resonances with the world of maps
and charts, the world of plotting and radar. “ The nuts and bolts
of the technicality of sailing even down to the shape the sail takes in
the wind”. When looking at these works I am reminded of James Turrells
work on Roden Crater in the San Francisco Peaks: the beautiful aerial photographs
of the locations with the contours; the working drawings of the site; Turrell’s
mathematical calculations; the meticulous drawings and models for the observatory.
Each stage is a work of art in its own right, the final climax coming with
the photographs of the crater itself. Peter Noever writing in Turrell’s
catalogue describes it thus “ as soon as we enter the magic light
spaces, as soon as we perceive and experience these unprecedented yet familiar
spatial constellations with our body and mind, at the very latest then,
if not before, a surprisingly new dimension opens up, a new insight into
our existence between the present and the past, between sky and earth.”
He goes on to say that “entering these underground, mystery laden
chambers of the Roden Crater evokes the feeling of having become the hub
of the universe”
One might think that this amount of introspection could have
a negative impact on Sax. On the contrary, he says. “I feel a sense
of wonder that I’m here and that there is a mind thinking about itself,
where it comes from and how that is possible”. It is this awareness
that gives him the energy to create, to go to work everyday. Sax acknowledges
that whatever is going on in his head or in his life; whatever changes he
makes psychologically or emotionally “on a prosaic level these works
are two dimensional objects that have to work on some sort of aesthetic
level in order to communicate something”. Clearly at the very least
they do that but for me they do much more because they seem to communicate
something of what it is to be a human being surviving in this difficult
world.
© David Falconer 2007
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