I have a confession to make: I have a rather interesting relationship with figurative paintings. I suppose on a simple level, one would call it a love-hate relationship. I love the power of figurative work to evoke emotion, but I do not love the way that some figurative work forces me to feel a part of a story that doesn’t feel like my own. This seems particularly true for me with most figurative portraits. As a result, I have a lot more abstracts and landscapes in my personal art collection than I do figurative work. In fact, until recently coming across Sara Caracristi through my friends at Art Interiors, Elizabeth Lennie was the only figurative artist who drew me into a story that felt safe enough for me to hang in my own home. I know that probably makes me weird, but I’ve confessed it to you now, so I feel better about it.

In contrast to the figurative portraits that create in me a sense of discomfort, Sara Caracristi’s vantage point on her figurative work is something different altogether. Yes, there is a distinct sense of story and relationship in the characters she paints; and yet, there is an even greater sense that I am the observer. I am free to hover above the story in a way that leaves me feeling safe, amused and still very engaged. I feel more like I am people-watching at the airport, musing on the wanderings of humanity as we buzz about everyday life.

There is a level of detail in Caracristi’s paintings that is deeply personal, and yet her mastery of the aerial vantage point also allows the figures to blur into more abstract blocks of colour to my eye.

How do you feel about figurative work? Does it draw you into a story; make you feel a part of history? I hope Sara Caracristi’s paintings will inspire you to become a more active observer of detail, perspective and relational interactions, even if it is from a polite distance.

xo
s.