MAGAZINERADIOSHOP
LOG INSUBSCRIBE
2020-07-31
Written by Dylan Hayes
Richard Burton's hazy transportation paintings evoke a sense of atmospheric unease, capturing the melancholy and mystery of rural England in the 19th century. Through soft, muted colors and subtle brushstrokes, Burton conveys the longing for escape and connection to the land that defined his work.
As we step into the world of Richard Burton's transportation paintings, we are met with a haze of uncertainty, a sense of movement and turmoil that challenges our perceptions of reality. Like a whispered secret, these enigmatic works beckon us to follow their winding paths, to unravel the mysteries hidden within their textured surfaces. Oil paints, applied with a deftness reminiscent of watercolours, blend seamlessly into the sandy terrain, conjuring an atmosphere that is both dreamlike and unsettling.
Born in the small town of Wisbech, deep within the Fens of Cambridgeshire, Richard Burton's artistic journey began at a tender age. As a child, he would spend hours lost in drawing, his pencil scratching out worlds both fantastical and mundane. But whereas most children fixated on animals or landscapes, Burton's young mind was drawn to the transportation – the railways, trucks, and ships that crisscrossed the countryside, carrying people and goods with an air of purpose. It was a fascination that would shape his art, imbuing it with a sense of dynamism and energy.
Burton's unique approach to painting is both captivating and disorienting. By applying oil paints in a manner akin to watercolours, he creates surfaces that are at once delicate and textured, like the soft ripples on a still pond. The sandy substrate, often visible beneath the paint, adds an extra layer of depth, a tactile quality that invites the viewer to reach out and touch. It is as if the painting itself has come alive, its boundaries blurring into the surrounding environment.
As we delve deeper into Burton's work, themes begin to emerge – the intersection of land and sea, the dance between progress and decay. His transportation paintings are not merely representations of machines or routes; they are doorways to other worlds, gateways to realms both familiar and unknown. Like a puzzle, each piece fits together, revealing an intricate narrative that is at once fragmented and cohesive.
The Fens themselves – that patchwork quilt of rivers, ditches, and reclaimed land – serve as the perfect backdrop for Burton's explorations. A region often viewed as peripheral or secondary to the surrounding countryside, the Fens hold a unique position in the national psyche. It is here, amidst the silt and the sand, that Burton finds his creative voice, one that speaks to our collective memories of movement, transition, and transformation.
One cannot help but ponder the connection between Burton's work and the landscape itself. Like the transportation systems he depicts, the Fens are in a state of constant flux – water lapping at the shores, wind whipping through the reeds, the very earth shifting beneath our feet. It is as if the land has become alive, its boundaries blurring into the machine-made world of Burton's paintings.
And yet, despite this symbiosis, there remains an unsettling tension between the two realms. Like a mirage on the horizon, the transportation systems seem to recede just out of reach, leaving behind only echoes and whispers of their presence. The paint seems to ripple and flow like water, drawing us inexorably towards its centre – but what lies at the heart of this vortex? Is it a world of concrete and steel, or perhaps something altogether different?
As we navigate the labyrinthine passages of Burton's paintings, we begin to discern patterns – threads that weave together disparate elements into a cohesive whole. Like a palimpsest, each work is layered upon another, revealing hidden narratives and secrets waiting to be unearthed. It is an approach both intimate and expansive, one that speaks to our shared humanity while simultaneously subverting our expectations.
In the end, it is Burton's unwavering dedication to his vision that sets him apart from other artists. Like a cartographer charting unmapped territories, he maps the topography of the human experience – all its complexities, contradictions, and paradoxes. His transportation paintings are not merely representations of machines or routes; they are doorways to our deepest desires, fears, and aspirations.
And so we find ourselves drawn back into Burton's world, our footsteps echoing through the hazy landscapes like ripples on a pond. It is a journey without destination – one that speaks directly to our hearts, beckoning us towards the unknown with an insistent whisper: "Come closer... come closer..."