THE PAINTINGS OF FRAN SHALOM

Essay by J.J. Murphy

In his book, Pictures of Nothing, noted curator Kirk Varnedoe writes about the experience of viewing non-objective art: "The less there is to look at, the more important it is that we look at it closely and carefully. This is critical to abstract art. Small differences make all the difference." Varnedoe is suggesting the important role that perception plays for the viewer, which becomes a pivotal element in the abstract paintings of Fran Shalom. Indeed, the very titles of her exhibition "Duck/Rabbit" alludes to psychologist Joseph Jastrow's classic drawing that creates an optical illusion. The image, cited by E. H. Gombrich in Art and Illusion, can be read two ways—either as a rabbit or a duck—depending on the viewer's perception of it. Although Gombrich applied the example to representational art, for Shalom, it becomes a question that she poses repeatedly in relation to her own work.

Shalom has discussed her desire to reduce shapes to elemental forms. In “Razor’s Edge” (2020), an orange band borders much of a large rounded pink shape. Inside are clusters of small turquoise squares of varying sizes. Black squares surrounded by red borders sit underneath, which are linked by red lines set against a green background, creating a pattern. It is possible to read the abstract shapes more figuratively. Perhaps the painting represents an abstract portrait of a woman? If so, the person has no neck, eyes, or nose. Such a reading suggests a basic cognitive fact, namely that human beings are essentially meaning makers. Like in a Rorschach Test, the human mind strives to make sense of abstract shapes.

This work demonstrates how little it often takes to read abstraction as somehow figurative, as well as the very thin line that exists between the two. Shalom is acutely aware of this. In her artist statement, she doesn’t deny that her abstract shapes can be viewed as “representations of the human body.” She even refers to her paintings as “characters,” suggesting that they might be perceived as abstract portraits. They are

not necessarily portraits of actual people. There is a playful, cartoon-like quality to the colorful forms that can even suggest empty thought bubbles in comics. Other contemporary painters, such as Tom Burckhardt, play with the idea of abstract work containing human referents, inviting viewers to see heads and faces within the abstraction. There is even a name fo this perceptual endeavor: pareidolia. Yet this kind of mark-making with a clearly recognizable source is exactly what certain abstract artists like Thomas Nozkowski, wanted to avoid. Although he painted from the observable world around him, Nozkowski did not want the referent or source to become discernible. Shalom is much closer to him in this respect. While acknowledging an interest in the human head as a shape, she indicates, “I’m always trying to let go of any obvious figurative element.”

This is not surprising because a number of Shalom’s paintings defy a figurative reading altogether, and any such attempts would ultimately prove unproductive.

The real strength of Shalom’s art occurs once you look past the possibility of figuration and appreciate the inventive formal elements of her abstractions: color, line, shape, and texture. There is a buoyancy and lyricism to her colorful shapes that continually surprise us with their sheer energy and verve. The simplicity of her forms at times disguises the complexity of the work, which only becomes more apparent through extended viewing.

“Rendezvous” (2020), for instance, uses three colors— light blue, yellow, and black—to create an interplay between figure and ground. The painting becomes very much about space—how line is able to create a sense of depth through various planes of color. Shalom’s use of swirling yellow brushstrokes on the left plays off against the field of blue. It creates a spinning motion that alters the flattened space. The artist also allows the textured black to seep through the yellow brushstrokes. Spatially, the yellow line around the blue creates a subtle frisson against the black, which contains glimpses of other colors from the underpainting.

Shalom is at heart an improviser. There are different types of improvisation, depending on the degree of planning. Some abstract artists work from preliminary

sketches, or, in the case of Nozkowski, he began with a clear referent but then transformed it to become unrecognizable in the painting. Shalom takes a more spontaneous, process-oriented approach, which does not involve preplanning. As she explains in an interview: "I generally start with a few brush marks, a basic shape or gesture and then proceed to move things around, adding, subtracting, and adding color—a lot of play is involved, a lot of wiping off paint and painting over and redoing shapes.” 

Shalom is a colorist. Her paintings contain bright colors reminiscent of pop art or cartoons, such as her use of hot pink, orange, and turquoise set against a green, red and black in “Razor’s Edge.” Other distinctive color schemes include: tomato red and cyan, coral pink and red, and yellow and mint green. Even Shalom’s use of color is not worked out in advance, but rather discovered in the process of making a painting. It is more akin to trial and error. As she puts it, “My color is not planned. I might choose one color for a shape and that informs the next—it’s relational.”

As with any form of true improvisation, Shalom’s process of making paintings demands that she remain completely open to the moment. That openness also extends to the viewer. Deprived of being able to rely on either narrative or figuration, a viewer must pay very close attention to the subtle nuances—”the small differences that make all the difference”—in the imaginative and eccentric paintings that Shalom creates through a remarkable economy of means.

J. J. Murphy, 2022

J.J. Murphy is a filmmaker and the author of four major books on independent cinema.