Stimmen
Mason Riddle, New Art Examiner, Juni 1990
The abstract, wall-mounted works of British artist Martin Potts are elegant hybrid pieces which elude strict labels such as “sculpture” or “painting”. Although Potts often refers to them as paintings their strong cut out shapes project a sense of weight and volume which counters the flatness of their forms. Constructed from wood and characterized by rounded, scalloped, or circular edges, the works’ surfaces have been painted and then rubbed or sanded to reveal subtle graphite
markings through veils of muted colour. The effect is that of a palimpsest of arcane architectural structure.
Potts also toys with one-point perspective and the viewer’s visual perception. Certain pieces are mounted on armatures and are punctured by cut out areas, which cause them to appear more volumetric than they actually are. Others project directly from the wall at varying depths and thus establish a shifting vantage point.
Dazzle (186”x45”x6”), a large, curvaceous, pale blue-grey slab of wood, is punctuated by a cut out center edged with vibrant red geometric forms. Mounted on an armature, its flat surface throws shadows giving it a bulbous, inflated look. In the much smaller Riffian (13”x17”x3”), Potts has juxtaposed moon-shaped forms which sharply define an oval area of negative space. Their atmospheric surfaces are embellished with black and yellow crescent forms that echo the curvilinear edges of the work. More volumetric is Potts most recent series of works (approximately 24”x14”x11” each) painted in an Yves Klein blue and inspired by Matisse’s Backs in the Museum of Modern Arts Sculpture Garden. Titled, Final Stretch I, II and III (I was unavailable for exhibition), each comprised three round tubular forms which project from the wall at various angles and distances. Minimal and decisive, this series possesses a visual and conceptual weight missing from the earlier more cautious wall reliefs.
In Potts’ work, two-dimensional line and three-dimensional form interact, collide, and sometimes exchange roles. That their flat curvilinear and inter-connected surfaces are likened frequently to the figure even by Potts himself, is testimony to their voluptuous shapes and the suggestive power of abstract forms. However volumetric their presence, it is their space-slicing edges and the graphic surface quality that is, their indebtedness to painting, drawing and not sculpture which distinguish this work.
Rachel Young, Artikel für Cover Magazine, 1998
At Unfinished, a spare and expansive raw space along the post-industrial bank of the East River, Martin Potts’ paintings are elegantly shown in all their pedantic vigour.
In works from 1991-1998 that can be roughly divided into three series, Potts depicts an emergence of geometric form as a sort of institutional measurement, a standard gauge that tracks simultaneously the pervasiveness of repression and the exultation of exposure. He uses the impartiality of geometrics to neutralize the seriality of mechanically reproduced images, in this case, to cover porno-graphic photo enlargements in a hide and seek game that reverberates with the structuralist intrigues of Foucault’s grand critique of society.
In Stations of the Cross, Potts plays a sullen yet sensual Mondrian-like numbers game that includes progression, division of areas, multiplications of frames and subtraction of parts over cold, orange slivers of imagery. There are emotive hints of rage, a flirtation with both hidden and seen, in this symbolic situation of ‘disinformation’ where a modernist idealist format is aligned with repression of the exploited, profane and work-a-day flesh. If the government regulates both first amendment rights and the profits of an industry that thrives on exploitations at the worst and alienation at its best, the artist points to strains in our unreconciled position.
This mirror image of polarities, this drama of neutralisation, shifts in its significance in works on paper—as in Triptych for Brian Weil or Tangle—where the key between order and disorder points to tenderness and a carefree, if ironic, spontaneity. Potts keeps a similar critical distance from his image, but his hand-painted parallelograms, elongated and ever so slightly foreshortened, are washed in lavenders and paneled browns over the variety and vagaries of expressive stroke. Love is a corny concept, full of pitfalls and vulnerabilities, but softened with the light of Spring.
The tactile qualities and scale that sustain Potts’ premise is his paintings cannot be brought to bear in the video-piece ‘Fresh’, however kinetic, is unable to sustain a dialogue of impending predicament. Even its speed maintains closure and claustrophobia instead.
In the epoch of porn when “representational powers of the interplay of love are irrevocably lost, the rendering of pure sexual desire, reduced”, Martin Potts’ paintings are vehement and reflective at a unified juncture where the disconcerting forms of flesh are unable to prevail against a simulacrum that evades even as it entices.
Angela Eames, Peinture Interrompu – 2014
Keeping it simple…
Keep it simple and straightforward.
The KISS principle maintains that most systems work best if they are kept simple rather than made complicated; therefore simplicity should be a key goal in design and unnecessary complexity should be avoided.
Martin Potts grew up in Yorkshire and after a year’s study at Leeds College of Art he moved south to study Painting at Bath Academy of Art in Corsham, then to The Slade School of Art in London and finally to The British School in Rome. On completion of his Rome Scholarship he travelled to New York and set up his first studio in Soho and painted.
It is in the painting. In each considered painted stroke. Born perhaps of his childhood spent on a farm attending to the regular, daily and seasonal labour incurred in a farming life. Martin’s rigorous approach to life and work, his love of the order of numbers and matter and his embracing of individual restraint were apparent as a student. One bowl, one plate, one set of cutlery and a mug. These were all that were needed as peripheral to the activity of painting. Brushes offered the exception – he had many. With paint he was resourceful. Materials such as wooden pallets, old doors, planking and sheet board were to be found all around him and allowed for risk and experimentation within his working approach – little changed down the years as he literally walked a painter’s path through life.
The disciplined activity of painting underpinned Martin the artist. There was care in each and every step taken, preliminary drawings, material acquisition and brush strokes made. There were also moments of silence and contemplation as content married with visual possibility informed his next move, his next painting. Whether raw materials found on New York streets or the contemporary industrial sheet materials of the building trade, all were employed in a straightforward and entirely appropriate manner in the manifestation of the painted image. Colour was crucial. Painting space was explored. Content was humanity.
Simplicity does not mean the provision only of essential features nor does it mean lacking in sophistication. Simplicity is not a position of compromise; rather it’s a position of strength and this was exemplified in Martin’s work. His references were the sounds and sights of his environment. Music was ever-present, particularly Olivier Messiaen, whose music I first heard Martin playing on the venerable Dansette record player in the painting studio at Corsham. Messiaen, Steve Reich and Erik Satie were accompanied by the open spaces of Wiltshire, the sunlight of Italy, the compacted architectural fissures of London and New York and the monotonous skies of Muenster. An instinctive need for purposeless play and an enquiring mind drove his painting activity. He relished the seemingly chaotic visual stimuli of his surroundings wherever he walked and he walked everywhere. He allowed them to challenge his daily thought patterns and then later following the inevitable process of reflection and elimination, he would set about the business of making and breaking in the studio. Excitement and eagerness were tempered by the demanding task of reduction and the pursuit of clarity through his attention to use of material, paint and not least system. His was the practice of getting it right, getting it to work, reaching the point where the painting existed in its own right.
It was reverence for simplicity and system which attracted him to the work of Messiaen. Vingt Regards Sur L’Enfant Jésus is composed according to a rigorously algebraic structure and by adding or subtracting fragments of note values, Messiaen allows for a distortion of metre. This systematic approach is echoed in ‘The Adorations’. Messaien’s text, in its glyphic interpretation, literally bounces back and forth within the picture plane. In appearance and disappearance the viewer is allowed glimpses of text within colour and space, an alternate enactment of meaning.
John Torreano, Interview – 2018
“I am writing this from Bruges and thinking about Martin. He would have loved the Jan Van Eycks, the Hans Memlings and Dirk Bouts paintings here.
…My relationship with Martin goes back to the eighties when he worked for me as an assistant. Martin could do anything. Even if he didn’t know how to make something he would figure it out and make it. For example, he helped me build a large series of multi-faceted gem shapes out of plywood. It ended up being called Ghost Gems. They consisted of diamond cuts, oval cuts, marquis cuts, a tear cut and a heart. The heart shape was by far the most challenging as each facet required unique compound angle cuts. Martin was able to make the heart.”
“Martin’s work went through lots of phases, i would say essentially though like me his commitment to abstraction was a primary force. I do have a piece from that period of time, I think it’s a portrait and another shape that goes with the portrait, kind of on plaster. Anyway it’s still an abstract portrait and so he was always committed to a modernist aesthetic like myself. You know I really think he did his best work towards the end of his life, cause it’s really beautiful.
Martin was a very formal person – in some ways informal and formal, kind of an oxymoron relationship. And some people may say he was a little controlled over ideas. And that’s the nature of being an artist where you want to have control but you also want to be able to let go of the control. (…) So in that sense he would be a formalist. And being such a precise crafts person, that’s what made him good as well, so i would say those characteristics..and his later work has both of those really nicely in them. You know the loose kind of free use of color and the quality of the paint application in combination with the control of the rectilinearity of it, I mean that makes a lot of sense to me.”
Mimi Thompson, Interview – 2016
“He was at the same time very adventurous, but very formal. He was so interested in formal abstraction and yet he was very playful with his shapes and his colors, so it was an interesting combination and I love the different ways he would experiment. One point he was working with wooden panels and he would carve out a carve out.. you know the paintings that are so full of texture and raw energy. And yet they are incredibly sophisticated and it was a wonderful combination, really of two different states of mind. You know a very emotional, rougher state of mind, and then a very more intellectual state of mind and thinking really about the purity of abstraction. So he combined those two, so it was a wonderful contrast, which gave the work a lot of energy.
When I got to know him as an artist and went to his studio to look and see what he was up to, I think what really impressed me was his commitment to being a painter as well as his knowledge of art history. He had read everything and looked at so much throughout the ages through all different periods of art history. I don’t think I had met someone before that time, who really took everything about art so seriously. The art history, the studio practice, the act of painting itself, was just the most important thing. And that commitment really showed in his paintings, the strengths of his paintings and his sense of color, which he probably came by naturally, but also it was very sophisticated because he has such an incredible knowledge of art history.
I think what was special about Martin and his work is his stood vastness and his desire to investigate ideas and you know and he didn’t really care about the surrounding artworld that much, i mean of course he was part of it but he was very just committed to his journey as an artist and that is really a hard thing to sustain. “
Bobbie Oliver, Memorial – 2014
I met Martin around 1980 when he and Brian Wiel, the photographer, had studios in lower Tribeca. Martin had started working for my firend John Torreano who loved calling him “Martini”. It was a name that suited him well as both he and John loved anything Italian. I visited Martin several times in his basement studio at that time and his work reflected his year-long stay in Rome as a fellow at the British Academy. Since that time Martin has been a presence in my life. Perhaps we lost touch with one another occasionally but always re-connected again in an easy familiar way.
As with John, we would often do projects together and it was always such fun. Whenever he worked for me, I would enjoy cooking lunch as Martin was so appreciative of good fod. He was always such a great person to talk to about almost anything but especially loved sop talk: i.e. painter’s talk about brushes, different kinds of paint, grounds, techniques and color. He loved stories about other artists and could tell many stories about artists from the past, especially with regard to material that they used.
When it came to working with Martin on a project, he could solve a problem that no one else would have taken the time and effort to solve. It was usually a crooked something or other in your house. He would look at it, go away, come back and have come up with a plan: that plan might consist of using some entirely unconventional material in an unconventional way but it would always work and that little vexing crooked thing in your house would be fixed. It was a special quality that Martin had, smoothing out all the rough edges. He loved to figure out how the small thing related to the big thing.
A few years ago Martin and I painted my loft together. We had discussions in great depth about the qualities of different kinds of whites and in fact tried out a few before settling on the right one. There was no amount of time that Martin would not spend to get the right white and he would argue for his point of view. At what time did the light in the loft shift from morning to afternoon light? How would the white look at these different times of day? How would it look at night? The nuanced and sensitive way he approached his construction work was the same way he approached his art: a very minimal, pared-down aesthetic, with a reverance for materiality and the nature of things, elegance, quality and how the small thing related to the big thing. He was an artist’s artist and he had a certain romanticism about being an artist that was so charming and quaint in todays grasping world. And he loved his wonderful studio in Brooklyn that he had for so many years.
I will miss these simple qualities of such a lovely man. He approached life with grace and elegance, I am grateful to have known him.
Paul Klein, Kunst Händler aus Chicago
“Art often has its own language, a certain vocabulary, or set of visual conventions one sees. And we know it’s a clue to the informed.
Diverse cultures have their own languages too.
Invariably these languages, messages, means of communication, don’t even enter the same arena, but in Martin Potts’ art they did.
There is an on-going discussion between the erudite and the vernacular in Potts’ work. It is both profound – and humorous. It’s informed, but accessible. Elevated, yet mundane. Privileged, and simultaneously common.
It’s that balance.
Two feet equally placed on the ground,
With different shoes on.
The world makes sense now.”