Art in America May 1995
Ann Wilson-LLoyd

“David Moore at Gallery NAGA, Boston”

For all their polished craftsmanship, David Moore’s small oil on wood color studies (all 20 x 18 inches all dated 1994) are refreshingly unself-conscious. They are variations on the grid, with lines subtly incised in oil-glazed surfaces consisting of many layers of translucent color laid down in soft-edged geometric patterns.

Blue Mountain’s grid consists chiefly of a network of lines amid amorphous color. The whole is quiet, jewel-like rectangle with a shimmery textured surface that appears to shift under changing light, like watered silk. A cloud of purplish red along the left side disperse through drifts of green in a mostly blue field. Upon closer inspection, the softly shaded colors seem to bleed slightly along grid lines that are often slightly off square, like farmland boundaries seen from afar.

In Playground, a broad swath of lemon yellow takes up most of the space. This work, too, suggests an aerial view of landscape, a Diebenkorn-like vista without the matt finish and utter flatness. But that’s only the first impression, for beneath Playground’s many layers of paint lie fugitive squares of pale blues and greens, sometimes rosily blushing along their edges, a subtle infrastructure which turns ones’ thoughts from landscape to molecules.

The lavender bandings of Skowhegan and the yellow ones of Freedom (N.H.) are reminiscent of old-fashioned taffeta plaids: they also suggest cubist visions of light refractions at opposite ends of the day. Freedom Nocturne is a dark purple patchworked night, with some wine colored sunset and a white streaked grid that could be thought of as shooting stars, or as car headlights in time-lapse photography.

Over the past ten years Moore’s painting has changed from representational scenes of gritty urban architecture (frequently viewed from odd angled) to cloud formations, tree burls and frothy water surfaces that suggest an intense investigatory interest (rather like that of Via Celmins) in natural phenomena. These most recent abstractions are as beautifully crafted as any concrete image could be. Moore’s play on light, lines, layers, and color dynamics suggests the sublime in both micro- and macrocosm.


Sections

Art in America

Art in America May 1995
Ann Wilson-LLoyd

“David Moore at Gallery NAGA, Boston”

For all their polished craftsmanship, David Moore’s small oil on wood color studies (all 20 x 18 inches all dated 1994) are refreshingly unself-conscious. They are variations on the grid, with lines subtly incised in oil-glazed surfaces consisting of many layers of translucent color laid down in soft-edged geometric patterns.

Blue Mountain’s grid consists chiefly of a network of lines amid amorphous color. The whole is quiet, jewel-like rectangle with a shimmery textured surface that appears to shift under changing light, like watered silk. A cloud of purplish red along the left side disperse through drifts of green in a mostly blue field. Upon closer inspection, the softly shaded colors seem to bleed slightly along grid lines that are often slightly off square, like farmland boundaries seen from afar.

In Playground, a broad swath of lemon yellow takes up most of the space. This work, too, suggests an aerial view of landscape, a Diebenkorn-like vista without the matt finish and utter flatness. But that’s only the first impression, for beneath Playground’s many layers of paint lie fugitive squares of pale blues and greens, sometimes rosily blushing along their edges, a subtle infrastructure which turns ones’ thoughts from landscape to molecules.

The lavender bandings of Skowhegan and the yellow ones of Freedom (N.H.) are reminiscent of old-fashioned taffeta plaids: they also suggest cubist visions of light refractions at opposite ends of the day. Freedom Nocturne is a dark purple patchworked night, with some wine colored sunset and a white streaked grid that could be thought of as shooting stars, or as car headlights in time-lapse photography.

Over the past ten years Moore’s painting has changed from representational scenes of gritty urban architecture (frequently viewed from odd angled) to cloud formations, tree burls and frothy water surfaces that suggest an intense investigatory interest (rather like that of Via Celmins) in natural phenomena. These most recent abstractions are as beautifully crafted as any concrete image could be. Moore’s play on light, lines, layers, and color dynamics suggests the sublime in both micro- and macrocosm.


Sections