Robert Clark
Guardian Review
Terry Duffy is one of an increasing number of perceptive British
painters who have realised that the evocative potential of minimalist
atmospheric abstraction didn't disappear with the suicide of Rothko. For
such a prolific artist Duffy's strength surprisingly lies in how much he
dares to leave out. His recent works on paper consist of broad strokes
of muted colour intertwined with lines so fine they look scratched into
the surface with a pin. Duffy's work has recently been transformed by
his discovery of a kind of non-absorbent glazed paper which enables him
to slide paint around, partially erase it and let the reflective white
paper surface shine through. The technique could easily become a
repetitive formula but so far it imbues each daub and blur with a
resonant depth. Some images here suggest microscopic landscapes but any
attempt to reduce their ambiguity by naming their possible subject would
be a denial of their potency. Duffy paints objects that have escaped
their names. These are the hardest sorts of paintings to describe. A
blue smear on a slightly darker blue background and a spidery line
crawling around. So what makes this smear and this line altogether
better than any other old mess of paint? A thorough knowledge of
historical, cultural content, a skilful, spot-on touch, years of
dedicated work and a confident sensibility that risks leaps into the
indefinable.
|
|