They've
Got Personality
S
.F. painter's ultra-vivid portraits convey character
by
Jesse Hamlin, San Francisco Chronicle Staff Writer
David
Tomb's "Diorama" show
Hackett-Freedman
Gallery
San Francisco,
CA
Sometimes
David Tomb is a little startled when he walks into his studio and encounters
his life-size portraits of friends. "It really feels like the person is
there," says Tomb, a noted San Francisco painter whose boldly colored pictures
draw on the long tradition of portraiture but have an edgy contemporary
buzz of their own.
Tomb
hopes that visitors walking into the Hackett- Freedman Gallery will experience
that same "split second of suspended disbelief," when the people in the
paintings appear alive and present. He likens the sensation to confronting
a diorama in a natural history museum, when what's real and what's not
momentarily blur. That's why Tomb calls this show "Diorama." It comprises
just four big portraits, one of his wife and the others of close friends
well known in Bay Area music and art circles: musician Cory McAbee of the
Billy Naylor Show, artist Steven Briscoe and performance artist Steven
Raspa. They go on display in the small back gallery at Hackett-Freedman
tomorrow night, the first Thursday of the month, when downtown San Francisco
galleries stay open late for show-hopping crowds.
These
paintings, whose thickly impastoed faces and hands suggest the influence
of Lucian Freud and Francis Bacon, are more formal and controlled than
the wildly gestural figurative drawings and paintings for which Tomb is
best known.
"I
think these are a little more refined," says Tomb, 39, a Bay Area native
who studied at Long Beach State and whose unorthodox portraits were the
subject of an exhibition earlier this year at the Fresno Art Museum. The
drawings "tended to be a lot more gestural and layered, and a little more
improvised. There was a lot of exploration and invention, and I feel a
lot of that is still happening in these, but it's a little more subtle.
"For
me it's important to have a balance of refinement and aspects of the picture
that are little more rough and tumble or less developed. Over the last
few years I've been more focused on color, using vibrant color, sometimes
even aggressively, as a really strong component of the picture."
These
pictures rock with blazing reds and greens, blue and yellows, befitting
the flamboyance of some of these showbiz folk. Performance artist Raspa,
known for his "Burning Man" installations, stands in a purple blazer and
fire-red shirt and trousers. That's what he wore while posing for the picture
during numerous sessions. But his eyes weren't closed, as they are in the
painting, nor was there a peacock at his feet, or that great swath of blue
behind him.
While
Tomb depicts his subjects with a certain verisimilitude, he reworks the
image for as long as two years until the portrait emerges. He places the
figures in fictional settings whose contrasting forms, colors and textures
create tension and say something about the subject. The painting is not
just a portrait of the sitter or of himself, but "that dynamic between
us," Tomb says, "the connection between the two, the friendship or the
energy, for lack of a better term, or communion. I guess it's a document
of what happens in between."
After
the sitter leaves, Tomb starts to invent, adding and taking away elements
that bring out the strong presence of character that "I like to think all
my friends have," he says with a laugh. He finds their particular characters
"elusive and mysterious. It's something I want to share with other people."
He
repainted Raspa's eyes shut because he wanted to portray his friend's dreamlike
quality. The peacock just came to him and felt right. "Steven has a very
intense and vibrant spirit. The peacock is a very exotic bird, and there's
also something slightly menacing about it. It's beautiful and menacing.
Steven is not really a menacing person, but there is a bit of an edge to
his personality. There is something just slightly menacing about his face,
but balanced with a kind of wonderment. It's those tensions that to me
are really interesting."
Tomb's
portrait of Briscoe, with his neon-green blazer and red electric guitar,
is loosely based on Manet's "Luncheon in the Studio," except here the bountiful
meal is replaced with a huge bottle of Bass ale.
Tomb
portrayed his wife, Susan, sitting on a settee in a compressed living room
space where objects have been tilted up to the picture plane in a way that
makes it seem "vertiginous and flat at the same time," Tomb says. Holding
an empty champagne glass, she has a melancholy expression that her husband
attributes half-jokingly to "sitter fatigue." Tomb thinks the picture captures
Susan's introspective nature. "My wife is a lot more beautiful than how
the picture turned out," says the artist. "But there's something about
how it came out that is very much Susan."
Portrait
painting is hardly hip in the contemporary art world. But Tomb, whose grandfather
was the California Impressionist painter Sidney Lemos, likes being part
of a tradition to which he feels he's adding something new and subtle of
his own.
"Some
people find it constricting and confining. But I happen to find it very
rewarding. Most of the great artists I've been inspired by have done portraits
-- Picasso, Modigliani, Caravaggio, Velazquez, de Kooning. For me it seems
like such a natural thing. People's faces are very compelling and interesting."
.:
The San Francisco Chronicle, November 1, 2000
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