The Alloway paintings - Loving the art of the near past
May 9, 2009 by Quigley · Leave a Comment
Not so long ago, artists lived at the margins. From shabby studios, they produced work that was difficult and abrasive - even brutal. They shunned popularity. For to be popular, one had to conform; and to conform, one had to submit to the general will.
Questions about the nature and purpose of art seldom arose, because art was what they did, come what may. While pandering to the tastes of the mass consumer was unthinkable.
The Alloway paintings, acquired and lovingly restored by Cristus, ‘Nude with Cat’ (1969) and ‘Nude Circle’ (1971), are outstanding examples of this oppositional art. Knocked up on hardboard and skinny laths - themselves an expression of the artist’s condition - they have endured the pangs and scorn of time. Indeed, it is hard to imagine that they have ever been cared for, or displayed with pride. Yet, with the gentle easing of a spirit rag, four decades of filth make way for truths. We are struck by the artist’s thoughts, his fears, his time, his rebellion, and his unquestionable skill; but we also sense that the paintings are as vital as the moment of their conception, and that they are imbued with an integrity that is beyond question.
While other art arrives and is checked for dinks, like any other merchandise, the Alloways interfuse with the viewer. Even during restoration, they were taken from the workroom, hung on walls and examined, discussed and re-examined by us Cristusians.
In these, and in the one other painting we have seen, Alloway describes an urban, modern or near-futuristic vision. Spectral figures appear, writhing in a ring of despair in ‘Circle’, while encased in specimen jars in ‘Cat’. The nude is most present on the crimson sofa, but she too is obscured by the cat and her lower limbs are fading into pools of liquid light. Outside the glare radiates into the spaces and the figures await their fate. The resignation, alienation and loss of faith runs parallel to the themes of absurdist drama. These were the concerns of the artists of the time, and that’s why Alloway painted them. He is part of a rich tradition of British post-war avant-garde artists who have hitherto been much-undervalued. But who is this Dennis Alloway, whom, we are told, attended the Royal Academy School then disappeared from view? Please let us know.
