Last Days Of the Plague — Stephen Gibb, 36″ x 24″, oil on panel, 2020

The long history of art relating to plague can be traced from medieval times and the likes of Hieronymus Bosch to the irreverent doodling of pop surrealism art

After resisting the sort of automatic response that the year 2020 prompted—mainly as a result of the pandemic crisis of Covid-19, I finally relented.

There is only so much one can take with the onslaught of media and the reports that propagate fear and disseminate ignorance before you start to manifest a reaction. It was with fear and ignorance that this painting took root.

Basing the initial thoughts around the centrally positioned “troll under the bridge” I thought I could divide the painting into two halves, where the left represented fear and the right represented ignorance but that was just the launch pad.

A painting seldom blossoms from the core concept into a fully realised representation of that concept. It often transforms into something else as the idea incubates and I ponder the elements of the composition. This painting represents a prime example of that kind of deviation from the original whim—a transformation into something more ambitious with a broader scope of themes.

As well as the initial themes of ignorance and fear, the image now includes commentary on superstition, plague, decay, pollution, contamination and irresponsibility. Time to apply my brand of pop surrealism art to the painting

Breaking down the images

Safe as houses: What could be safer than isolation in your own home? The thing is, as we learned in 2020, you still need to interact with outsiders in the society and culture we have created. Bringing outside threat into the home is a concern and the fearful–looking house and house ablaze symbolizes that fear.

Protection: The prophylactic use of masks as protection from the virus is echoed in the plague-doctor crow and the deep-sea diving suit, both fearful enough to wear protective clothing but still threatened by contamination. The crow, and diver being attacked by the piranha were two of the first and original ideas. The crow tries to reinforce the crumbling wall oblivious to the poison gas dancing around his feet. The sun masks the smell of decay with a clothespin but the ineffective defence is futile against the underlying factor present in the “plague”.

The Plague: I wanted to represent the “plague” as a color and the antifreeze green or Mountain Dew yellow seemed perfect to symbolize it. Originally the source was to be from the troll, oozing from his nose and mouth, contaminating the water and by extension into the food and drink of the townspeople and leaching into the ecosystem as well. The locust, a symbol of plague, was an afterthought but was needed to balance the composition (as were the pumpkin, the bubbles and the Soviet-era missile)

I only drink when I’m drunk: The “villagers” are oblivious to the threats around them and they represent the ignorant aspect of my original concept. They drink to intoxication, without regard to what it is they are drinking and without any effort to protect themselves or others by wearing masks or socially distancing. This brash flouting of common sense leads to more contamination and perpetuates the vicious circle.

Always after me lucky charms: Ignorance can give birth to superstition. During the 17th century it was believed that plague was propagated by putrid air and that a beak-like mask filled with herbs, straw, and spices would offer protection—hence my plague-doctor crow. It was also believed that onions could ward off the infection!

It’s a gas: Playing off the miasma theory of plague propagation I used a poison gas canister attached to the locust to represent the idea of the plague being present in the air. Not only that but it is manifesting itself as a creepy clown that looms threateningly over the village. The mournful tree trunk also oozes a noxious gas that floats into the clouds, only to condense and return as a toxic raindrop.

Motherland of invention: Using the decaying Soviet-era missile was not a political statement. Being from the West, the threat during the Cold War was always the Soviet Union, so showing a relic from that era was reflexive. The idea of a neglected nuclear missile, rotting and contaminating the environment just seemed to fit with the vibe of the painting and as stated above, I needed something to compositionally balance the painting there.

Let’s get medieval: Our notion of plague often harken back to the Black Death and the stories that spring from that era. I wanted a little nod to that notion and the wooden cart, stone wall and cobblestones seemed to give the painting some medieval flavour.

I am the eggman: Yes, that’s me, recovering from a broken ankle while I painted this. I am vulnerable and frail as Humpty Dumpty, trying to ward off the plague by distancing myself from human contact (even further than usual).

Pop Surrealism Art: Yeah I know, WTF does that mean? It means people search the web for pop surrealism art and that ultimately brings them to me…

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More about Stephen Gibb:

• Lowbrow Pop Surrealism Exhibit – Gag Me With a Toon

• Banksy Exhibit

• More On Pop Surrealism

• Trippie Redd Album Cover

The post Pop Surrealism Art, pandemic, plague and Covid-19? appeared first on Stephen Gibb.

Contemporary art has been hit hard by our inability to focus, meditate or even take five minutes alone with a painting.

With my painting Death of Contemplation, the title comes from my lament for a time before incessant distraction. When you could fall into a deep, thoughtful meditation and slowly mull over an idea until it blossomed into something wonderful. The tranquility and quietening of the mind was like being submerged in a peaceful lucid dream, relaxing and thrilling at the same time. As a contemporary artist and painter, I relish those moments.

Death of Contemplation, Stephen Gibb, 36″ x 24″, oil on panel, 2019

The content of the painting however takes on a more dark turn. Based on idioms of death the “characters” associations and literal depictions of phrases relating to death create a macabre jumble of imagery. Not exactly your typical contemporary art.

On the far left a microphone records no sound in its emblematic expression of dead air. Next to it a dead end sign grows fruit with some already dead on the vine. At the head of the coffin rests a dead eye, contextually out of place from its normal nautical setting, it echoes a death’s head expression with empty eye sockets and mouth agape. The severed hand holds the black 8s and Aces of the dead man’s hand. Above the dead jelly man Humpty Dumpty whips a dead horse, locked in a dead heat with a living horse. The death’s head door is as dead as the doornail hammered into it and below a pair of dead man’s shoes sits abandoned. The Dodo is not quite as dead as a dodo, but soon will be with the thirteen coils of the hangman’s noose ready for action. Behind the dodo is a spectre of the undead, looming in the darkness. In the sky a symbolic representation of Hypnos (personification of sleep) flies by the moon while mirrored on the opposite side is the Hypnos’ twin brother Thanatos, represented by the inverted torch symbol and the Greek personification of death. Last is the sickle mounted on the wall, which occasionally substitutes for the scythe—the weapon held by the Grim Reaper…Mr. Death himself.

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