My work is not repetition. It is an exploration.
Just as with the quartet, each part of a painting is telling a different story.
I choose color on the spur of the moment. People ask me why I paint in red. I do not have the slightest idea. I was painting in blue, then I had a need to paint in red. To be able to interact with the medium, this is the key. There are no sure ways to do art.
Seeing is looking at something in saturation. But we tend to look at something for, say, 1/30 of a second.
The question of painting is bound up with epistemology, with the engagement of the viewer, with what the viewer may learn.
With monochrome painting... the idiosyncrasy of the work, its difference, its expression, lies in shape.
Just listening carefully to what the musicians are really doing, putting the music in the right time... I became aware of the degree to which time, and therefore duration, was important in music and in art. It had a direct influence on my painting.
I'm interested in the movement of the eyes across the painting.
It's impossible to just localize your perceptions - because the stimuli come from both eyes.
In a way, the blank canvas... represents the infinity of trying to use color to express emotions - to assign a linguistic function to color.
Anything is of course inexhaustible, because at each moment the brain has a different pattern to construct.
You begin by engaging the left hemisphere of the brain with the overall shape, the basic structure of the painting, and then eventually you engage with the colour, with the mood of the painting and then you are entering the activities of the right hemisphere - and it is in the right hemisphere that ideas of space are born, the realization that you are seeing space.
