John Abell is an artist of the in between, of the upside down, of shimmering and wild alternative realities. When entering his world, you will meet an eclectic array of recurring characters; curious witches, strangely chill apocalyptic horsemen slinging guitars, electric skeletons and willowy women glowing under the moonlight wearing garments of stars. You will encounter horses, birds and deer, tall ships, ladders, lighthouses and winged figures. They suggest a hundred stories, but stories are not their reasons for being. They are visions, moments, signposts. Very likely they are not from around here, but they may also be just around the corner...
Abell’s recent work has been dominated by water, ships, and lighthouses, elementally paralleling the all-saturating anxieties of global warming and the waves of a seemingly endless pandemic. In 2020 and 2021 Abell completed a series of linocuts bordered by poems penetrating the heart of the deteriorating conditions of the planet. The colors are stark, mostly black and white with the hint of bright red, or blue. Water is surging, flooding, engulfing, as people placidly, somewhat sadly, face a shared and eventual fate. Sacrifice is a recurring theme, and there is more than one alchemical reference, suggesting a process of necessary refinement...
Ships and lighthouses also feature centrally in Abell’s recent watercolors, appropriate metaphors for isolation, feeling adrift, seeking beacons of hope. Yet in contrast to his linocuts, these pieces are anything but stark, with vivid purples, pinks, and blues quivering on the surface of the paper. Mermaids, fairies, and celestially clad women trace a path to distant lighthouses while flaming ships light up the water. One gets the sense that these lighthouses may not be of this world. Are they in the Otherworld or do they indicate the need for an internal space of refuge? Abell may be trying to convey that serenity can be achieved through a shift in perspective. In Northern Lights a ship is engulfed in flame, a rather relatable theme given the times, but in another reference to alchemical processes Abell does not interpret this scenario as a tragedy: “The fairies look like they are trying to save the ships, but they don’t need saving. The flames are a purifying fire.”
Perhaps Abell is trying to tell us something about the impermanence of existence, or perhaps there is just so much more to reality than our limited perceptions of it. There is darkness in this world and there is joy. He observed that most people, in the West at least, spend a lot of energy trying to stop the very natural process of change. Things change all the time, there is birth, death and transformation:
“My thoughts on change are relatively simple, it's something all people go through in all aspects of life, at all times, yet the idea of change in the main is difficult for people, despite being in a constant state of flux… Panta Rhei (everything flows).”
Abell is quite content with change, and despite the dazzling visual impact of his work, he communicates a certain equanimity. Everything really will be alright in the end, and maybe it’s even alright right now.
