Andrew Southall (b. 1947), based in Victoria, has made his recent paintings with acrylic house paints, poured from the can onto canvases on the floor. ‘Most people who see my recent work for the first time think Jackson Pollack; fair enough; it’s practically an occupational hazard’ he writes. ‘I am not paying homage to Jackson Pollack; my paintings are not painted like Jackson Pollack painted his or at least the ones most of us readily identify; nor do they derive from similar sources, not if you look closely, do they look anything like the Jackson Pollacks you think they look like.’ He explains that his paintings ‘aren’t just action, and see what transpires. A lot of the actual time I spend on a painting is spent on the peripheral of the bare canvas lying on the floor of the workshop. I wait I think I look, something will happen. Like any of the painting I have done over the years I have the all-rights, the gee that really works, the fuck me’s what a ripper, the cockups, the may be redeemable with a bit of courage, and the out and out failures. And just below them the blissfully few that fill me – only momentarily - with the awful recognition I’ve just wasted all that material and money on what, on nothing; enough money we could have had a fantastic weekend away in a city hotel.’
Gift of the artist 2005. Donated through the Australian Government's Cultural Gifts Program.
© Rick Amor/Copyright Agency, 2022
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