|
Hazel Cashmore
|
||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
||
|
Faced by the shaving mirror twice a day is, quite possibly, revenge of some kind from some higher order. There is no escaping me, what I am, what I want to be, and the perception I have of what I seem to appear to be. The world weary landscape that undulates in harmony with gravity and that returns to it's norm slowly when stretched, that island, that thing before me that I call my face, is that really me? In the first instant it is easy to look at, to stare at even, but the longer it is stared at the more difficult the staring becomes. One is instantly protagonist and audience rolled into one, the watcher and the watched. The realisation that the faces, brains, eyes, and noses of the two characters in this bathroom sink playlet are one and the same, dawns amid a certain amount of embarrassment. There is what I might nickname a Ping-Pong effect, starting with a look, then a response to a look, then a response to a response to a look. It is a process which in a short time creates a me and a him and it's his stare that creates the tension and embarrassment in me. An embarrassment that I feel but he doesn't show. All of this me/him could be a million miles from any connection with art, but in the work of Hazel Cashmere the she and the her is very evident. She is her work and her work is her. She has an ability to be artistically schizophrenic; she paints half of her repertoire for her clients and half for herself. So we see PVC clad nymphs for her clients and dispossessed portraits for herself. I sense embarrassment connected to the nymphs. Not I hasten to add due to the subject matter and certainly not due to any lack of skill. Hazel could paint any subject she so wishes. The embarrassment I might suggest is from seeing her mirror other in the work, and that other 'her' stares back tongue-in-cheek. The nymphs are not rude, crude or erotic. They have a Victorian naughtiness; a naughtiness that is in all of us. If those paintings could stick their tongues out they would. To say that they are just naughty would in fact do Hazel an injustice. Their true purpose is more to do with Hazel flexing her artistic muscle. Her drawing is very competent - they are exactly what she wants them to be. They are easy for her and although they may take hours of sitting and doing, they don't fight back. They have no say in the finished work. Hazel knows exactly what they are going to be and she has the skill, attitude, patience and determination to let her other 'her' paint what she wants. In discussion with Hazel about these particular works, one very quickly picks up her dismissive tone towards them, 'I draw them because I can sell them'. The embarrassment factor is evident at this point and my response to her negative feelings to these works is that in actual fact she needs to do the paintings emotionally, creatively and psychologically. They are a major platform of quality. They are a benchmark of competence that her other 'her' can achieve which then leaves the real, the actual physical Hazel Cashmere to paint what she wants. They give her the freedom creatively to be herself. They are important and necessary. Hazel's relatively recent realisation of the need to paint for myself is systematic of being independent and having the self inflicted need to pay one's own way and also to be seen to be paying one's own way. Hazel's large portraits scream without visually appearing to do so. They are blindfolded and gagged by the glass that holds them in the frame. Let them loose and the very real Hazel Cashmere might just bite your bloody head off. There is a restrained tension, a battle waiting to happen; what Hazel hasn't realised yet is that she fired the first weapon and the war that is her art cannot be stopped. Lock Hazel in an empty room and she would be the physical embodiment of the sum total of her work. She is the portraits, she is the nymphs. She has the pain; the need to scream; the need to paint and the need to maker her own art, but the embarrassment factor is restraining. The day she looks into the mirror and cannot embarrass her other her, will be the day that I personally believe she will herself realise that she is a true artist. She will realise that she is everything, without her art, she cannot exist. She will understand that bad art is impossible; opinions are nothing more than a concentration of breath that makes sounds that can affect our day but not our art. What really matters is being able, genuinely, physically and psychologically to stand up and say 'I paint what I want to paint, this is my language. It's how I speak about myself and my world.' Look and you will come closer to understand Hazel Cashmere the artist. The real question for the real Hazel Cashmere is 'is she ready to be at one with the mirror other and say in paint what she really and honestly cannot say in words?' I have seen her work first hand. I was genuinely drawn to those paintings. The images have stayed with me and I look forward to meeting them again. I haven't touched on colour, scale or composition because to do so would undermine and perhaps trivialise the importance of where Hazel's work is at this moment in time. She is at a crucial point and I look forward enormously to seeing the Hazel Cashmere of 2002 plus. DEREK HAWORTH JUNE 2001
HAZEL CASHMORE: Born:1950 in Coventry, U.K. Hazel works primarily in acrylic EXHIBITIONS 1983: Lyth Arts Centre
As well as painting for exhibition Hazel regularly accepts commissions.
Contact Details For Further Information Email: hazel@internet-promotions.co.uk HAZEL CASHMORE
|
||
