Gross Misunderstandings is meant as a simple commentary, but with multiple connotations: on one level, the work here is an organised, slightly grotesque mess, where interpretation is left entirely to the viewer. Yet, on another, far more personal note, this is a prediction about work, I feel, which will be largely misinterpreted. Not to say that’s a bad thing; it’s an embracement of outsider art, or an up-yours en mass, and the work here reflects that. In fact, the greatest compliment my art was ever given was ‘my wife won’t like that’.
This is merely an observation of art and its contradictions. There’s nothing factual to back this up, just as I’m not going to tell you you should see something this way, or that. Make your own mind up, and instead of me telling you what this work is about, I’m going to write a bunch of drivel to hoodwink you into thinking I really believe there’s some profound meaning behind this painting or that one, when in fact it was painted in a manic frenzy and I’m not even sure how it got finished at all?
The greatest trick an artist can pull, I think, is to make you see past the ugly, or the accidents, and be attracted to the ludicrous thing you’ve just created – albeit unintentionally. By battling against continuity and aesthetics, the work retains integrity – with a naïve sense of discovery and experimentation, hidden amongst the swagger of furtive brushstrokes and pompous definition.
Daniel Lumbini's (1978, London/UK) work is an empirical remix of modern and classical techniques; a visceral collusion of new media and original composition, both picturesque and grotesque, intended to sample styles and ideas, intentionally evading definition, leaving interpretation entirely to the beholder. "The figures I create are a pastiche of the world's obsession with defining oneself, or more-so, one's art; each of my paintings portray awkwardness, or vanity, or perhaps evolution, but ultimately, the composition is disrupted by accident, albeit deliberately. It's not profound, that's the point, it's a painting, it's anything but that." Daniel has shown extensively throughout London and New York, with work housed in collections in the UK, USA, Canada, Hong Kong, Germany and France.
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This is merely an observation of art and its contradictions. There’s nothing factual to back this up, just as I’m not going to tell you you should see something this way, or that. Make your own mind up, and instead of me telling you what this work is about, I’m going to write a bunch of drivel to hoodwink you into thinking I really believe there’s some profound meaning behind this painting or that one, when in fact it was painted in a manic frenzy and I’m not even sure how it got finished at all?
The greatest trick an artist can pull, I think, is to make you see past the ugly, or the accidents, and be attracted to the ludicrous thing you’ve just created – albeit unintentionally. By battling against continuity and aesthetics, the work retains integrity – with a naïve sense of discovery and experimentation, hidden amongst the swagger of furtive brushstrokes and pompous definition.
Daniel Lumbini's (1978, London/UK) work is an empirical remix of modern and classical techniques; a visceral collusion of new media and original composition, both picturesque and grotesque, intended to sample styles and ideas, intentionally evading definition, leaving interpretation entirely to the beholder. "The figures I create are a pastiche of the world's obsession with defining oneself, or more-so, one's art; each of my paintings portray awkwardness, or vanity, or perhaps evolution, but ultimately, the composition is disrupted by accident, albeit deliberately. It's not profound, that's the point, it's a painting, it's anything but that." Daniel has shown extensively throughout London and New York, with work housed in collections in the UK, USA, Canada, Hong Kong, Germany and France.
