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Nick Goss

Green Lanes

Green Lanes. It sounds pastoral, nostalgic, faintly utopian – like some network of ancient drovers’ tracks and holloways that endures furtively in a pocket of deep England. But Green Lanes could hardly be further from such a place: it is a drawn-out urban thoroughfare, which slices for miles through the suburbs of north London, abutted by old retail parades, housing estates and supermarkets, by ranks of semi-detached houses and parks that renounced their claims to rural retreat well over a century ago.

24 September 2020

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Christof Mascher

Presence Above All

Christof Mascher’s Street turns river, a 2015 painting in oil on board, is an urban nocturne washed with the pale purply blue that belongs only to a clear night beneath a big moon. Gas streetlamps set cream-coloured orbs on either side of the scene, repoussoir glass gems from a European city of the 1820s. A boulevard carves through the landscape, parcelling it up. The painting is tight, everything in its proper place.

7 September 2020

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Gareth Cadwallader

Painting in the world, around the world

Shortly after the opening of Half-Lowered Eyelids, his first solo exhibition at Josh Lilley in January 2019, Gareth Cadwallader left his South London home to paint in the world. A painter with a meticulous, private methodology in art and life, the following images are all that we know about the genesis of the three works ultimately presented at Art Basel Miami Beach in December of that year.

25 August 2020

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Nicholas Hatfull

Sky and vapour

Josh Lilley first showed Nicholas Hatfull's iPad sky drawings — unique archival pigment prints on Somerset paper, modest but glowing — in the 2019 group show of painters' preparatory works Preparing for What. A year later we are proud to introduce and offer the first large oils derived from this daily digital practice.

25 August 2020

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Derek Fordjour

SHELTER

SHELTER, Derek Fordjour's 2020 solo exhibition at the Contemporary Art Museum, St. Louis, was both a compact survey of the artist's recent work and a site-specific installation that placed the viewer in a position of temporary safety from a heavy storm.

25 August 2020

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Ryan Mosley

What People Do

A year ago, Ryan Mosley was approached by the Contemporary Art Society, a heritage charity and consultancy that acquires British artworks for public display around the nation, to submit a proposal for the lobby of a skyscraper growing in London. This skyscraper, 22 Bishopsgate, would be second in size, nationwide, to Renzo Piano’s Shard, and would dwarf the landmarks of the city’s colossus-choked financial center. Paintings, thought this painter of paintings, would not fit for this space.

25 August 2020

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Ian Davis

Cruise Ship

Initiated in late 2019 and finished in June 2020, Ian Davis’ Cruise Ship evolved through a changing global reality, and the artist's iconic figures in matching clothes never arrived, never populated the scene. The cruise ship became a ghost ship — its trajectory, its past and its future, elusive. The rippling wake signals motion, but its unclear who is steering.

24 August 2020

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Nicholas Hatfull

An Autumn Afternoon

There’s an alley that reappears in Nicholas Hatfull’s recent paintings. It is an alley from An Autumn Afternoon (1962), Yasujirō Ozu’s final film.

24 August 2020

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Kathleen Ryan

The Journey of Bad Melon (Party Girl)

Altogether more moist and pulpy than the citrus fruits with which the series debuted at Josh Lilley in October 2018, the Bad Melon works conjure another tangible, tactile aspect of ‘badness’.

24 August 2020

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Kathleen Ryan

Ghost Palm

Kathleen Ryan’s Ghost Palm was commissioned in 2019 for the second edition of the biennial Desert X, an exhibition of site-responsive artworks in Southern California’s Coachella valley in the spring of 2019. A lifesize rendering of the Washingtonia filifera (desert palm) in steel, plastics and glass, Ghost Palm sat along the San Andreas Fault, the meeting point of two tectonic plates.

24 August 2020

Installation view of  Ed Ecco a Voi . . .  at Josh Lilley, presenting Nicholas Hatfull
Installation view of  Ed Ecco a Voi . . .  at Josh Lilley, presenting Nicholas Hatfull
Installation view of  Ed Ecco a Voi . . .  at Josh Lilley, presenting Nicholas Hatfull
Installation view of  Ed Ecco a Voi . . .  at Josh Lilley, presenting Nicholas Hatfull
Installation view of  Ed Ecco a Voi . . .  at Josh Lilley, presenting Nicholas Hatfull
Installation view of  Ed Ecco a Voi . . .  at Josh Lilley, presenting Nicholas Hatfull
Installation view of  Ed Ecco a Voi . . .  at Josh Lilley, presenting Nicholas Hatfull
Installation view of  Ed Ecco a Voi . . .  at Josh Lilley, presenting Nicholas Hatfull

Artworks

Twilight Contrails by Nicholas Hatfull, 2020
Roman Holiday - February  by Nicholas Hatfull, 2020
Low-Lying Cloud (City Dusk) by Nicholas Hatfull, 2020
Tungiro - Morning Glory Tomatoes  by Nicholas Hatfull, 2020
Sunset Contrail by Nicholas Hatfull, 2020
Apricot & Pine  by Nicholas Hatfull, 2020
Horizon Dawn (Kappabashi over Siberia) by Nicholas Hatfull, 2020
Side Streets (Carmen, Luna...) by Nicholas Hatfull, 2020
Ed Ecco a Voi Jacket  by Nicholas Hatfull, 2020

Nicholas Hatfull

Ed Ecco a Voi . . .

6 – 31 July 2020

Josh Lilley is pleased to present Ed Ecco a Voi . . . , British painter Nicholas Hatfull’s third solo exhibition at the gallery.

Nicholas Hatfull is a champion and a pusher of the painting medium. He performs at the canvas with both the precision of a guild artisan and the pert, experimental play of the absurdist. It is an offbeat form of devotion with a heavy poetic yield, like a jeweller cleaning silver with ash. Hatfull can zoom across the canvas without breaking character, toughening the brushstroke into a slick vector. He can wipe it all back, too; he’s not precious. Airbrush and speckling make the hand disappear. Tissue paper might serve as blotting paper, toning an area down, only to be re-employed as a monoprint stamp, dampening matters elsewhere. Painterly effects are so abundant, in fact, that they don’t fight for the viewer’s affection — the innate technical flash of the artist’s toolbox is never the point.

The paintings in this exhibition are concerned with objects in space. Three works depict yukata — lightweight summer kimonos — over brackish, blotchy landscapes. In amongst them are loaves of bread from a pan splitting apart in steamy sinew, a shy pizza half-occluded but somehow also bleeding through the central yukata motif, tumbling leaves, tumbling cherry tomatoes, and the like. Hatfull experienced and logged each of these elements in person: the garments in a museum, on stiff armatures; the landscapes, Siberian tundra thousands of metres away, from an airplane window; the tomatoes from another artwork; the pizza and bread rolls sampuru, the ubiquitous, uncanny foodstuffs rendered in wax or plastic that surely qualify as Japanese vernacular art.

A painting of gelato pans on display recedes into the distance, a highway of coloured tiles. Each hue is a flavour, their each surface a story about desire. This kaleidoscope strip travels in undefinable space. The curious cold steam from its surface lifts and combines with the dappled ice and sienna ether of the background. The yield, always, is a field. It’s space, Hatfull engages clearly with space, and he sometimes even obeys space’s rules about light, and scale, and perspective. He is, after all, an academy painter, and at moments the paintings lock together in conventional, if unusual, logic. Consider the gelato painting, which obeys pictorial rules right up to the moment that all rules evaporate. It made sense until it didn’t.

Consider the airplane-window aerial landscapes and the erect scarecrow vibe of the yukata, for example, and one may say that these are categorically paintings of flying garments, animated by breeze or ghosts. At the point a viewer might settle upon a clear, singular reading of the work such as this, however, a gargantuan and slightly too perfect loaf of bread enters the mix, or the pattern on the textile starts to bump and flex, or the pizza becomes more brave. The clear reading cannot be sustained.

Ultimately, as a viewer, one must simply accept the coexistence of these elements, and come around to the idea that this is not space as we know it, not space that represents the world. Instead, as memories near and far collide in engineered and accidental rhythm, it becomes increasingly clear that Hatfull is a painter of time, more than a painter of space. Memories, and the places where they accumulate, do not look like the place they came from.

The final series of work in this exhibition depicts gorgeously tinted skies disrupted by punctuation. Contrails slash down the frame, vapour making arrows. An array of pink dots, maybe limbs of planes, studs a night vista as it fades from the fun cobalt of the day before. The sky’s stories — we call these things phenomena. Perhaps this is the term for what this painter pursues.

Nicholas Hatfull’s Ed Ecco a Voi . . . will be on view from July 7 to August 1 in Josh Lilley’s 40-42 Riding House Street location. Tom Anholt’s Notes on Everything continues through August 1 in the 44-46 Riding House Street galleries.