Shirley Irons
As a rule, nothing I say about my work is completely dead-on. If you look at a highway rendered in paint, you’ve moved the experience (of leaving, of arriving, of waiting with its inherent anxiety, of listening to rock on tape) into a fragment on a wall with an entirely different set of criteria. This particular painting marks the beginning of my use of photography to isolate transient places and things that bore me, images that have a low level of information. I use my facility with paint to give those side-glances a moment of slow attention. Shirley Irons New York |
