Chloe Wise paints beautiful images of absolute dickheads. The young Canadian artist’s lush, detailed images are filled with aloof, snooty, art school layabouts. The real dregs of creative society; blue rinse beauties and hip young things in vintage sportswear with wanky haircuts and tiny moustaches. It’s like being at the worst party in Camberwell ever.
But they are really good paintings. Wise has an incredible skill, and a wonderful compositional eye. All these soft young faces are surrounded by bodies; lost, isolated in seas of humans. All around them are reaching, caressing hands. Each figure is somehow totally alone despite the humanity and affection they’re engulfed in.
Most of the images feature some incongruous element: a box of Kleenex, hand sanitiser, antibacterial soap. What’s Wise saying? That these people are locked in a world that wants to sanitise, cleanse and purify them? If so, it’s hard to feel any sympathy.
And for some reason, there are benches dotted throughout the space with built-in Kleenex dispensers. What are you meant to do, cry or…? It’s a bit of an unnecessary affectation.
But on the other hand, Wise really does manage to capture a modern sense of disaffection and ennui, a contemporary boredom and loneliness, in a world where that shouldn’t even be possible.
I’m torn, really. Wise is a very good painter who paints slightly annoying things. Every time you start getting a feel for the works, something pops up to push you away. Just like any cool party, you really want to be there, it’s just hard to know if you’re actually invited.
