<<Back

FROM THE BRIDGES OF LONDON

The paintings of Stuart Luke Gatherer are enigmatic and alluring. Rooted in the great Western art traditions of the past, they reference the gravitas of Rembrandt and the drama of Caravaggio, whilst achieving a startlingly contemporary relevance. Steeped in perpetual twilight, Gatherers protagonists are slick, immaculately dressed young professionals, presented in tableaux. They inhabit enclosed, brooding spaces that quietly hint at decadence and sensual pleasures. It is small wonder that Gatherer has established an impressive international standing and an ever-increasing number of collectors across the globe.

This, the artist's 5th solo exhibition at The Albemarle Gallery, marks a new direction for Gatherer, where he applies his considerable technical skill to ever more compelling and complex compositions. This brand new body of work, 'From the Bridges of London' follows on from Gatherer's last one-man show at the gallery — his modern take on Hogarth's A Rake's Progress (2005). As ever, the compositions are masterfully executed and tantalisingly ambiguous. But where the Rakes were characterised by a sense of foreboding and unease, these paintings could in pan be said to imply the opposite: some exude a sense of exultation and joyfulness (Wandsworth Bridge for example) that point to a new, hope-filled dawn.

Each of these 21 paintings is set on one of London 's landmark bridges: Tower, London , Blackfriars, Millennium, Westminster , Waterloo , Hammersmith, Jubilee, Chelsea, Albert, Battersea, Wandsworth, Putney, Chiswick and Kew . City workers hurry by, oblivious to the panoramic views that surround them. There is a tangible thematic structure, yet each work exists on its own terms, suspended in an atmospheric, Hopper-esque reality. The dramatic skylines themselves are exquisitely rendered; Gatherer captures the subdued beauty of these dusky cityscapes with great facility, revealing himself to be a highly skilled landscape painter. The bridges themselves - with their connotations of suspension, connection, isolation and vulnerability - set the narrative tone. They also function as stages: the action all takes place in the extreme foreground, heightening the drama and urgency of the compositions. The anxiety inherent within each work is exacerbated by the gloaming - few lights are visible in the murky distances. As ever, interpretations are open-ended, and this is part of their appeal. But one's emotional response to these silent dramas is further increased by the formal tensions between the figures and the contrast between activity and passivity, light and dark, extreme foreground and distant background. These works are at once ominous, unsettled and indeterminate, but also thrilling, exciting and celebratory. 'Kew Bridge and ' Millennium Bridge' for example, suggest the aftermath of a party; a hedonistic atmosphere, where the protagonists are playful, or possibly rebellious. Whereas the claustrophobia of the dense internal space in the Rakes' heightened the dubious morality played out in the narrative, here the shallow foreground space emphasises the relentless nature of the rush-hour commute, the endless cycle of the rat-race. These figures that hurl themselves from the bridges - or stand in varying degrees of contemplation of the act - are not necessarily anguished or despairing, but reckless perhaps, single-minded, victorious even - escaping from the daily grind into some other, more inviting unknown.

Susannah Woolmer Apollo Magazine