Sunday, November 30, 2025

EMBRACING COLLISION

This illustration by Jon Whitcomb contrasts a creamy, flawless figure with a violent, abstract background.


Similarly, this illustration by Piotr Leśniak places a meticulous drawing in a chaotic setting:


Normally the elements of a picture are expected to work together, rather than clash in contumacious oppugnancy. 

There are limitless ways for artists to combine opposites so that they work together to add contrast:

Norman Rockwell


Austin Briggs

Hard black line contrasted with soft watercolor is often a productive combination of extremes.
  
Note how the color is flat while the line contributes volume


Sempé uses black line sparingly in pastel watercolors



However, sometimes the two extremes just sit side by side, yelling at each other.  They aren't glued together by form, content or any of art's other epoxies.  The artist just seems to enjoy the collision.


One of my cranky friends derides this kind of contrast as "empty" because he finds it devoid of purpose.  Without a discernible expressive intent, he finds the contrast to be neither significant nor interesting.

I don't claim to be ecstatic about either the Leśniak or the Whitcomb examples above.  Still I think it's worth considering the notion of "collision" as an aesthetic concept in and of itself.  Not all collisions require an "intent" to be interesting.

Placing realism and abstraction side by side may make in unruly mess, but there is often "intent" to be found, even in purely abstract forms.  Could placing freedom and control next to each other be viewed as each challenging the other's reason for being?  Could it be a reminder that the beautiful, realistic three dimensional image is, after all, just an illusion, a two dimensional fake no more legitimate or real than the adjacent random mess?  Is the comparison of the two extremes a way of dissing the hard labor of the skillful extreme?  A postmodernist attack on obsolete talents?  

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