Small paintings of animals — dogs, hares, hens, whatever will stand still long enough. Originals are one of one. Editions are numbered and never reprinted.
elei paints animals, small, from a converted stone shed in Kildare.
The work starts with a lot of looking: time in a yard, a field or somebody's kitchen, and several hundred photographs that mostly get thrown away. What survives is the two or three that caught the set of the head — because that, rather than the markings, is what people recognise.
Everything here is deliberately small. A small surface forces a decision on every mark, and it means a painting can cost what a good dinner costs rather than what a car costs. Originals are one of one, signed and dated on the reverse. Editions are printed once in a stated number, each one signed and numbered by hand, and the run is never reopened.
An animal you live with is the one thing you can picture with your eyes shut and still get wrong. I am trying to paint the version you carry around, not the one the camera caught.
Most of that is in the weight — where the feet are, which shoulder is taking the load, how the head sits when nothing in particular is happening. Get the weight right and the markings can be half wrong and it still reads as them.
Everything starts with looking — time in a yard, a field or somebody's kitchen, and several hundred photographs that mostly get thrown away. What survives is the two or three that caught the set of the head, because that, rather than the markings, is what people recognise.
The work on this site is deliberately small. A small surface forces a decision on every mark, which suits an animal: get the weight right — where the feet are, which shoulder is taking the load — and the markings can be half wrong and it still reads as them.
Originals are one of one, signed and dated on the reverse. Editions are printed once, in a stated number, each one signed and numbered by hand, and the run is never reopened.
