Tony Godfrey. Elaine, to kick it off I always start by asking about the most recent work, so here is my first question – or maybe its two questions: you wrote me that these are “drawings of my favorite trees during the pandemic, I walk at the park across us to let off steam.” Even without being told that, I would have guessed they are pandemic works. So many artists have turned to nature in the last year. So many artists have fled Manila for the provinces. Being with nature, growing plants, is restorative. Whenever Geraldine and I think of still being in Manila in a house with a garden scarcely bigger than your studio which, as we know is very small, we shudder. At least In Singapore you have so many parks, so much greenery.
Nevertheless, have you felt homesick for the Philippines? – I presume you have not been back since the pandemic began 18 months ago.
And how exactly did you make these drawings? Did you make them in the park itself en plein air? Or work from memory back in your studio?
Elaine Roberto Navas. Your guess is spot on, these are pandemic works. I took pictures of my favourite trees during my walks in the park across our place. It was truly restorative and comforting, at the same time, I felt it indifferent to everything – all the suffering happening in our own backyards, and all over the world.
Yes Tony, I am homesick. I never thought I could miss openings of my shows. I used to dread them because I’m shy. Also, by the time I finish a show I’m like a zombie because I usually work by cramming. It’s a sickness. My energy level is sub-zero at my openings. I do love going to friends’ openings. They were the happiest part of an exhibit, seeing friends again. And making new ones.
I made these tree drawings based on photographs I took during my walks.
Last year, I tried to make a tree painting. It was a failure! I could paint foliage but never a tree in itself. So I tried to draw them instead.
But first I had to warm up my hand by copying Rembrandt’s drawings and etchings. His book is on my left, my sketch pad on the right. It’s like having a teacher inside the book. After copying around thirteen Rembrandt landscapes I mustered enough confidence to start on my own. I haven’t drawn in such a long time, I realized that to be in a drawing zone is so much different than painting.
TG. Was it strange to you that Rembrandt’s drawings and prints are quite small, a few inches across whereas your drawings are much larger – larger than most of his paintings?
ERN. It was not strange to me, as I intended to warm up my hand. The same way you warm up the engine of your car when it’s very cold and you let it run for a few minutes before you put it to drive.
TG. So drawing to you is as natural a thing as eating and walking. I have been reading the big biography of van Gogh by Naifeh and Smith and was surprised to learn that his mother was a keen amateur artist who taught all her children (including difficult Vincent) to draw. Did you draw as a child? And did you grow up with nature around you or in Manila, a city with depressingly few trees?
ERN. Yes Tony, drawing and art is a natural thing as eating and walking. Whenever I can draw or paint, I feel like my true self. If I don’t allow myself to work. I feel uneasy and angry that I’m not using it.
I’m surprised too that Van Gogh’s mother was an artist! I wonder if she was secretly happy that Van Gogh pursued art.
I drew as a child. I used to draw clothes for our paper dolls, make birthday cards for my parents. I drew my teacher’s portraits to keep myself awake during lectures in university. I made a drawing of myself and Rene for our wedding invitation, it’s a pop up. Up to now I draw my cards for my husband and children.
I didn’t grow up with nature around me, but I’ve always been attracted to trees , especially the gnarly kind. I’m a black thumb (or is it brown?) because plants don’t survive with me. Therefore, when I’m painting foliage, I feel I’m bringing them back to life.
TG. Vincent was always the difficult problem child. His parents wanted him to settle down, go to church regularly and be happy. If he had to be an artist, they wanted him to be a respectable one who made easy on the eyes, sellable stuff.
The university you went to was UP – am I correct? Were the lectures really that boring? You studied with Roberto Chabet: did you fall asleep in his classes too?
ERN. Roberto Chabet’s classes were thrilling. I used to fall asleep during lectures at Ateneo during classes like Economics, Theology, Chemistry, and Math. I was a Psychology Major before I studied at UP.
TG. Did you graduate at Ateneo or leave mid-course? What made you go to UP? To do Fine Art?
ERN. I graduated at Ateneo full course in Psychology. I wanted to be a Psychiatrist, but I failed my higher Chemistry subjects in my third year. I owe a lot to my German teacher, Fr Schmidt, for telling me to give it up. I went to UP because after graduation from Ateneo, my father asked me what I really wanted to be. That morning I was hitching with him to Makati to go to an interview for an HR position. I was wearing office clothes, which I think my dad found weird. I told him I wanted to be a painter. He said that I should study again and that he would support me. I always wanted to be an artist but I had decided to study psychology instead, for practical reasons.
TG. What a great dad!
ERN. He is!
He would always buy crayons, colouring books, art books, frame any work I left on my desk and hang it on our wall.
If he hadn’t offered to pay for my studies at UP, I wouldn’t have persevered. I was too ashamed to ask for more support.
TG. Two questions: 1. has that psychology degree informed your work as an artist? 2. how did you find UP after your time at Ateneo?
ERN. 1. That psychology degree helped me navigate relationships with my family of origin, outside world, and then the family I formed with Rene. Maybe subconsciously it’s seeped into my work. When I look back at all that I’ve done, the subject matters I choose, I try to analyse what it’s about. 2. UP was like heaven to me! It was the first time in my life where I loved to go to school. I remember walking towards the FA building on the side walk of the sunken gardens, thinking how lucky I am! The people there I felt were on the same planet as me. It was like Christmas in Mr. Chabet’s class! He would lend us his own books; he shared his love for art with his students. Originally I wanted to be an art therapist, so that I could justify studying fine arts. But when I made my first painting in Sir’s class I got addicted.
TG. For non-Filipino readers I should add that sir is commonly used as an honorific or sign of respect in the Philippines. I am often referred to as Sir Tony.
ERN. Who calls you Sir Tony? 🙂
TG. People in shops. Our helpers. Maybe they call me that because I am so old!
ERN. Haha! That’s just a sign of respect.
TG. What year did you actually graduate from UP? and who were your batch mates?
ERN. I graduated in 1991 from UP. My batch mates were Jonathan Olazo, Chitz Ramirez, Katti Sta Ana, Kora Dandan
TG. Let’s talk about Chabet. When I first met you and asked to come to your studio you asked him first for his approval. I think we could say you still saw him 20 years after leaving UP as your mentor. (I had written an article he had taken umbrage at.) I find that touching. He was, or had become, essentially a conceptual artist. Did he try and turn you away from painting, or encourage you to carry on painting?
ERN. I’d like to talk about Sir Chabet. I thought you had forgotten about that part! I informed him about your studio visit here and that I would find it difficult to work with you since he felt hurt by your article. He admired you, so it must have been a big blow. When you left our place after your visit, I told him about our conversation. He told me that you have a right to your own opinion, and that any conflict between you two shouldn’t stop me from painting for you. Yes, truly Sir is a conceptual artist. It was Sir who encouraged me to paint. He never forced me to be conceptual, or make installations or pursue other art forms. He would observe what I liked to paint, and then he would tell me to look up artists who had the same style and subject matter. Best yet, he continued to give me books even after graduation. When he saw that I painted water for Finale, he gave me his Roni Horn Another Water book that Lani Maestro gave him. Five years later I painted water based on that book. Sir told me he was waiting for me to paint this at last. He also guided me on curating my shows – for example, if I made water paintings, or foliage, what is next? I learned that it’s important to have a concept for the shows that are given to us.
TG. Sadly, he rather misunderstood the article in that I was pointing out that much of his work looked like work made by earlier, for instance Pistoletto, but I was asking whether the problem I was having with this was in fact a sign of my own colonial attitudes. Anyway, it was a shame we never got to meet properly and talk together.
Roni Horn was an interesting artist. I spent some time talking to her. I visited her in New York, got her to do a lecture for my students. I really liked the drawings and writings – I have some of her early books I can show you.
ERN. Oh, I bet you and Sir could have had great conversations!
TG. Yes, that is the shame!
ERN. What was Roni Horn’s lecture about?
TG. Herself and her work. She was very clear about what she was doing – like most American artists but touchy about questions. Many people find her a bit prickly.
But back to you! Is the painting of the opened papaya you sent me the earliest of your chosen works? What year was it made?
ERN. The papaya I sent you was made in 2014. My first papaya was made in 1994.
TG. Was it in an exhibition just of papaya paintings?
ERN. It was a show of vegetables and fruits, at West Gallery (Megamall). That was a breakthrough piece for me because I liked it when I finished it. I was satisfied.
Since then, I have made several papaya paintings, but in different stages of decay.
TG. Is that a memento mori thing? Or did you just like the colours?
ERN. It was a memento mori thing, if I analyse it now. But at that time, I didn’t intend to make a papaya with mould on it. It took a week to complete the painting, by that time the mould had already formed. The apartment was a humid petri dish. After this show at West, I’d make works about worn out teddy bears, old dolls, toys of my children strewn on our floor, food ingredients like dressed chickens, heads of pigs, hanging ducks and chickens at hawker centres in Singapore, decrepit gates in Manila, the sea. Looking back, I understand what I was painting. It was a memento mori thing.
TG. In your paintings with their lush Rubensian brushwork there is an appeal to the sensuous and the synaesthetic – here not only touch, but smell and taste. Was this something you aimed for, or it just happened?
ERN. Oh, thank you! The brushwork is not intentional but a survival technique.
TG. That is interesting! What do you mean by ” a survival technique”?
ERN. Survival because I had to solve the problem of painting the image as fast as possible. Deadlines! That’s the only way I could paint, I tried to make the paint smooth and blended well but it never worked out.
TG. Going back to that show in 1994 Did Chabet curate it?
ERN. Yes, Chabet curated that show, all of my shows were. He asked Soler Santos to give me a slot at West.
TG. How did he approach curating your show? Did he get involved in the whole process of making works, choosing them, writing about them or just hang them?
ERN. Sir Chabet was involved in the whole process of my shows from beginning to end. First, he would ask the galleries to give me a show. There were only 4 main galleries at the time I graduated from UP. Sir told Soler Santos that West Gallery was our only hope. One time I approached a gallery, to ask how I can apply for a show there. The one in charge told me that they only accept name artists. But how can someone become a “name artist” if they can’t begin somewhere? I didn’t say this. I would be hearing this message from other galleries too. So, can you imagine how much Sir helped us all when he would make sure that we had exhibitions in inaccessible venues? He would even give his slot to us, or make his solo into a group show with his students. So once there was a show in the horizon, first I would show Sir what I intend to do. It was usually a book or other references. We’d choose which imagery to include or exclude. Then he would decide on the dimensions, depending on the space. The part that I found touching, was when Sir would make studio visits to our apartment. He would climb the stairs (he was still strong then) to see the works in progress. It was fun since other close artist friends came along too sometimes. I was as scared of him the same way as I was in the classroom. It took a while to shake it off, I made sure that I did my best work. I’ll never forget Sir’s studio visits spanning from 1991 until 2013. The message I got from these actions is that he found my work important. The culmination would be setting up day where Sir curated – with Nilo Ilarde by his side. You can’t talk to him while he’s curating, it was like you’d be disturbing him while he was working on his own art work. It became a tradition to hang out and tell each other stories over food, before or after a hang, or both!
TG. How interesting! Were the 1994 paintings very different from the 2014 one? Do you have a good image of one of those 1994 paintings? It would be good to see it.
ERN. I can show you these images of the show at West.
ERN. We used to do ribbon cutting ha ha.
That’s my father on my left, Sir on my right, my nephew Matt squeezing in.
TG. It is hard for me to tell just from these images how the work has changed from 1994 to 2014. What do you see as the changes?
ERN. A friend told me that my work changed when I moved to Singapore. My strokes were more “abstract” or more expressive before the move.
TG. Perhaps the earlier works were more confrontational, more “in your face”. OK we are talking about a significant change in your life. When did you move to Singapore? and why? But that raises the question of Rene. When did you marry him? And when did you have children? And, although I have met Rene many times at art events and always chatted to him, I can’t remember what he does as a job.
ERN. Rene is a lawyer! I met him at EDSA at the People Power Revolution in 1986.
We moved to Singapore because Rene got promoted. He said we’ll stay for only 2 years. It’s been 23!
TG. Of course he is! What year was it that you moved to Singapore? When were your children born?
ERN. We moved to Singapore in 1998. My son was born in 1991, my daughter in 1993. As for changes in my paintings, I think the expressiveness depends on the subject matter. For example, early works looked like this.
ERN. This is the gate of our first home in Quezon City, Manila, near where Ling lives now. I was obsessed with that gate because our apartment was broken into four times. Therefore my parents gave us funds to build a higher, fiercer gate.
TG. Is it the new one you painted?
ERN. Yes, the original gate was much lower.
TG. How many times have you been broken into since arriving in Singapore?
ERN. We were never broken into in Singapore! Even if you leave your door unlocked here, it’s safe. All the break-ins were in that apartment in Quezon City.
The last image is the entrance to the gate of my mother-in-law. This was the start with my obsession with gates. I painted them across the years, until 2016 at Blanc at a two man show with Jonathan Ching.
TG. Gates for you were, and have remained, potent symbols of safety, home and refuge – provided the gate is big enough!
ERN. Correct! And they were also found objects for painting.
TG. These are very small images of your early gate paintings that I am looking at, but they look to me far more desperate than your later gate paintings, which are more dispassionate, more about colour.
ERN. Thank you for your observation, its spot on! I was desperate while making the small gates. We were newly married with toddlers, I didn’t know if I could keep on painting with everything going on, there was no security at home since the robbers could come back.
TG. What sort of studio did you have back then in Quezon City?
ERN. Yikes, my studio was the space at the top of the stairs before entering the 2 small bedrooms. We stayed in a small apartment.
TG. You mean your studio then was even smaller than your Singapore studio?!!!! It is one of the shocks I had when I met Filipino artists – what tiny studios they had. As in “I am doing my paintings in my sister’s bedroom”.
ERN. Yes! I feel lucky I have a whole room now in Singapore Ha Ha!
Alvin Zafra was so funny when he saw my studio here. It is the spare room of our apartment and very small. Space is expensive in Singapore! He said he will never complain ever again about his studio in Manila.
TG. Did your painting change once you were settled in Singapore? Were you so motivated to paint once you had left your motherland? And was it difficult to be an artist and mother?
ERN. My painting was also desperate in Singapore, but I was very distracted and that showed in my work. The only thing that kept me sane here was painting. The same thing was true when we had to live in the US: Rene had to take his masters in law in NY. When the children were asleep, I would paint in the kitchen. For fun I applied to the NY galleries. And then one curator called me back! This is from the gallery on top of Leo Castelli’s gallery. She asked if she could make a studio visit, to look at more works, but I didn’t have any! I was drowning in housework and caring for my toddlers.
It was difficult to be a mother and an artist.
TG. You are not the only one to find that!
ERN. Yasmin Sison, Isabel Acquilizan, Annie Cabigting, Pam Sanb=tos will all tell you that!
TG. How long were you in New York? Did you get to the museums at all?
ERN. OMG! We were in NY for a total of six months. The first try to enter the Met, we were at the lobby queuing for tickets. Then my two toddlers started to cry! We had to turn back and go home. My heart sank to the floor.
2nd October
TG. Although you have lived in Singapore since 1998 you have remained focussed on the gallery scene here and on staying in touch with fellow Filipino artists. How often did you come to The Philippines – that is before COVID blocked the planes?
ERN. I used to come home at least twice a year. I notice that being away made me closer to artists I never was able to talk to in Manila. This is because whenever artists visited Singapore, they come over to see me, something I really looked forward to.
TG. They often stayed with you I believe. Did you always come back for Art Fair Philippines – that being the best place to meet lots of people? And before that did you stay in touch with everything and everyone here on Facebook?
ERN. Yes, they did! I always came back for Art Fair Philippines; I usually made the work there, so the paintings were always wet! I always stayed in touch here on Facebook! I even made new artist friends here and on Instagram. I met Ling Quisumbing and Gregory Halili on Instagram. Also, Raena Abella, Lec Cruz, Jan Balquin, Ayka Go and others who are my friends now.
TG. it is harder to think of a bigger contrast than between Singapore and Manila. The most orderly, cleanest city versus one of the most chaotic and grubby! When I lived between Singapore and the Philippines, I always felt I was back in the Philippines the moment I got on the plane and I could hear everyone talking excitedly in Tagalog. It was like being in the middle of a flock of noisily chattering birds. Which city do you feel most at home in now?
ERN. Of course, I feel most at home in the Philippines. It is exciting to hear the chattering in the plane coming home, you can feel the anticipation and joy.
TG. When I lived in Singapore, Manila felt wonderfully organic. Now I live in the Philippines I love coming to Singapore where everything works and getting about is easy.
ERN. That’s the word – “organic!” It is wonderfully organic in the Phil! But Rene loves it here because everything works.
TG. Did you ever get involved with the art scene in Singapore or meet up with Singaporean artists?
ERN. I never got into the Singapore art scene. I think I live in my own bubble here. The only time I met Singaporean artists was when you invited me to join the group show you curated for Equator Projects in Singapore on small paintings. Fast forward to 2020, when Steph Fong invited me to a group show, Come Together, I felt a semblance of being with the art community, online at Fost Gallery.
The bubble that I mentioned earlier, it happened that my children bequeathed to us their friends. So, when our children left for University, we became closer to their friends who kept us in their lives.
I wonder if it was a big adjustment for you to move to the Phil?
TG. I have to admit I get frustrated at times with the dilapidated infrastructure of this country. I must also say that when I lived in Singapore, I got to know several very good Singaporean artists who I have remained good friends with. It seems a shame that never happened to you. But let us get back to gates. You sent me an image of a later painting of a gate. When was it made? Whose gate was it? Did that matter or was it just a ready-made image to paint with?
ERN. The title of this is Cry Baby. Made in 2016 and based on a photograph by Sam Kiyoumarsi’s – a Pinoy artist photographer who takes very gritty street photos. That is how I met him.
TG. So, you haven’t actually seen this gate? But you recognise it as the sort of mucked up gate one sees all over manila?
ERN. The early gate paintings that I showed you (4 small dark ones), were done live – en plain air. I didn’t see this actual gate but I could relate to it. They’re all over Manila, that’s what I miss!
TG. have you always worked from photographs or only since you moved to Singapore?
ERN. I usually work from photographs, even if I was in the Philippines. The subjects are ready-mades which I have to photograph since most of the time I can’t return there and make the painting in front of it. I would block the street if I do!
TG. Once you have the photograph did you copy it quite precisely? Do you grid it up for transfer as Chabet probably taught you, or use a projector, or just copy free hand?
ERN. I use the grid to guide the drawing of the gate. But if I’m making a small painting, I use free hand. I think this why I miss drawing because it’s all free hand.
There is some distortion that happens in free hand which I enjoy.
ERN This gate is from Sir Chabet! He took the photo on one of his jogs in his neighbourhood. He used to send me photos of gates that were interesting whenever he did his daily run. He knew I was painting them, so he was on the lookout for other gates in his neighbourhood.
TG. With a painting like this or Cry baby do you eventually forget what it is you are painting and just get it work formally – eg. effectively as an abstract painting?
ERN. Spot on, yes. I forget what I’m painting especially when I use the grid. Sir taught us to block off all the other grids and just concentrate on one grid at a time, and paint it upside down. So, each part of the grid did look like an abstract painting.
Then I’m always anticipating, asking myself, what are you doing? When the painting is done, I’m scared to face it, it’s a reckoning, like meeting a person for the first time.
TG. Do you paint each square upside down?
ERN. Not anymore, I don’t recognize anything anyway, even right side up.
TG. I am curious and charmed that you always send installations shot of your painting in situ. I can see this is in your studio and that you have stood in the doorway so you could stand back enough. What are the dimensions of your studio?
ERN. Thank you, Tony. It helps me to take those studio shots of my works in progress because it can tell me if I made mistakes or give a clue where I can improve on things. The studio is small, but the camera can take a panoramic shot which allows me to see it as a whole. Hmm, I haven’t measured the dimensions of my studio yet, but as an indicator, if my 6 by 8 foot stretcher falls forward, it won’t land on the floor. It will form an angle touching the opposite wall!
I see my studio as a cocoon or a womb.
TG. When asked, Barnett Newman said the ideal distance to view his large paintings was 18 inches. Do you agree? In your studio you must always be immersed in the painting. Should the viewer go equally close and get immersed?
ERN. I agree! That’s good to know this. 18 inches is enough, it’s the space that’s in between me and the canvas!
I wish that the viewer will see it up close and them step farther away little by little, because the image changes.
For the viewer to be immersed in – that is a heart-warming thought!
TG. And I spy a ghetto blaster just to the left of Cry Baby! Do you play music when you work? iIf so what sort of music? Or do you listen to Audi books as you paint like Geraldine and so many other painters?
ERN. Haha correct! I cannot work without music. Or audiobooks. Wow! Ghe also listens to them! Yasmin Sison and Mariano Ching taught me about listening to audio books, they even sent the ones they downloaded. Also, Jonathan Ching sent me his audiobook thumb drive through the mail from Manila to Singapore.
It helps us all concentrate, I think! I apply a reward system, when I stop painting, I won’t be able to know what happens next in the story.
When I’m very desperate Tony, I listen to the whole soundtrack of The Lord of the Rings. Unabridged
TG. Wow! A big dose of Enya!
ERN. Truly!!! I tell myself if Frodo was able to do it, I can too! If I’m not so desperate, I listen to the playlist my daughter gave me for Mother’s Day: she put such strange songs in there, also old lovely ones, or I listen to playlists I made through Spotify. When I see each painting that I have made I remember the songs that I listened to
TG. I think the issue of free hand and working from photographs is especially germane for portraits. The drawn portrait you sent – is it recent? Who is it of – he looks familiar? And you also sent a presumably much earlier painting of girl with beside it a photograph of her in a blue t shirt. When was that made? Who is she?
ERN. The drawn portrait of Jason Oliveria is not recent, I made it in 2009 .
TG. It looks good – do you do many drawings like that?
ERN. Thank you! I did make more. I love drawing portraits. This oil portrait is of Joy Melencio, she’s a fellow artist from UP days. I made this in 1997, part of my artists portraits show at Ayala Museum.
TG. Did you paint Melencio from life or a photo?
ERN. From a photo, though this photo I took of her during an opening. I have never painted anyone live yet, only drawn them. That’s why I really admire Alice Neel and Lucian Freud – artists who paint from life.
TG. I think it would be fascinating to see you try. Are you having a show at Finale later this year? What will the concept be: portraits? water or trees.
ERN. I’ll try! It’s on my wish list. I’m having a show at Finale upstairs gallery in April next year. I’m doing a tug of war with myself as I can’t make up my mind! At first, I planned on making palette paintings, and then small landscapes, then I thought of “rebultos” (religious statues) I saw in a shop in Ilocos or portraits or drawings.
TG. Is the small painting of a tree you showed me the sort of thing you were thinking of? It seems more of a “composition” than normal – less all over.
ERN. Yes, I was thinking of making a series of the small landscapes. When I saw Chaim Soutine’s small landscapes in a museum, I wanted to try. I had an idea of putting the small paintings in nice wooden frames, and painting the wall with an intense colour (dark fuschia) just like in a museum.
In a way it also follows on from a larger painting such as Bread of Stone.
TG. Sounds good to me!
ERN. Really? I keep on dismissing that idea, because I talk to myself in my head all day long.
TG. Well, as we all know, the studio is a place to be professionally lonely.
ERN. I get so tired just talking in my head, it’s like a vortex with no resolution until it’s time to cram.
Truly. Maybe this is why I cram. That’s why music and Audio books are so good.
TG. Do you keep talking about art in the evening when Rene comes home?
ERN. I do talk to Rene about my next plans for a show, but I try not to bother him too much because he has a lot of work. I do appreciate that he takes care of all the logistics, from buying my paint (the staff at ArtFriend know him already) , printing all the photos that are the source of my paintings, booking flights to the Phil so that he could stay with me while I’m working. Because I cannot sleep without him. There was a time I was sleep deprived for two weeks because he couldn’t get away from work/meetings in Singapore.
TG. Being a painter is a very weird thing. Someone told me once that self-employed people often get a bit weird. who is more self-employed than an artist?
ERN. What about writers, or musicians?
TG. I gather that the great joy for musicians is playing with each other. Writing is as lonely as painting – and we can’t even listen to audi books as we work!
ERN. Oh, that’s really lonely: to write!
This is what I miss a lot, when artists are together and we talk about these things, we warn each other and give tips. They always tell the truth if your work stinks or not.
TG. Can we finish by talking about one of your water painting?
ERN. This is based on Ling Quisumbing’s sea photos. This is how I became friends with Ling, from me needing her photographs!
TG. Do you ever go look at the sea in Singapore?
ERN. Yes, I do, I take photos when the waves are rough, usually at 6 PM.
TG. Do you work from those sometimes, or do you prefer using other people’s photographs?
ERN. I prefer using other people’s photographs because they are way more beautiful.
TG. And because they are distanced from your own life or history.
ERN. Yes, they are distanced but at the same time I can relate to them. I can’t find dilapidated gates here in Singapore, but my friends can, back at home. The seas in Mindoro (where Ling took the photographs) or La Union, Hawaii (I painted from photos I took there) have more life than the seas here.
TG. So, like beauty, the sea is always somewhere else. Are these the most abstract paintings you made? and the ones most clearly about a search for beauty? Or are they about the constant flux of the sea?
ERN. When I look at landscapes by Soutine, Van Gogh, or the water gardens by Monet, I can identify with the paintings even if I haven’t seen the place that they based their works on.
Yes, the sea is always somewhere else, in my case because of location. I think they are the most abstract works I’ve made.
However, after some thought, I believe that my palette paintings were the most abstract, second to my gates. With water it was obvious.
In retrospect I feel they are all about making something beautiful, whether it’s water, cloud, gates, portraits, drawings. I liked very much what Richter said about painting something beautiful. He said that it is subversive. Talking about beauty, I believe that it isn’t necessarily somewhere else. It can be right in front of you.
TG. Thanks Elaine. I think that is a good point to stop. I will go to my library where I can be professionally lonely and edit this straight away, so that you can check it later today or tomorrow and we can meet our publishing deadline!
ERN. Haha, professional lonely! Thanks Tony, I learned a lot from this interview. Good luck on your dead-line!
TG. Thank you! I have enjoyed it too.
