Modalities of memory and surveillance intertwine in the work of an acclaimed Maine painter
A tennis ball, warped by the speed of impact, is captured right before it lands on the painted boundary of the court, its oblong shape conveyed through negative space—a window into the black ground with which Maine-based American artist Reggie Burrows Hodges (born 1965) treats his canvases. This is movement as observed by a hawkeye, a painterly strategy particular to his paintings.
Hodges' atmospheric memory paintings feature scenes sourced from his childhood in 1970s Compton, California. In this fully illustrated volume, Hodges constructs a grammar of tiled floors, wallpaper, tennis courts, patterned robes and sports uniforms. With a delicate touch, he captures glimpses of the past and renders them hazy and indistinct, laden with the tension of personal memory. Guided by this painterly approach, Hodges creates gentle and profound emotional collisions that ripple throughout his work.
