by Simon Turvey SWLA
Federation of British Artists
Turvey’s figurative work consistently has a bare, almost chilling, quality of light. Pale to the point of becoming translucent, his colours appear almost through a milky film. Turvey’s figures are haunting, not cruelly, but with a poignancy that crisps every detail and expression. His people appear frozen, a memory of a moment in time; as there seems little life in their alabaster skin for us to imagine anything beyond. Turvey’s scenes are not void of life, but isolated from a before and after; the composition seems concentrated, distilled it seems for detail. In Passenger, we have the added layer of the film of the train window; encapsulating a view not only in a physical frame, but in the difference of the cold light of ‘outside’. Turvey captures the separation one feels from the world they pass by, effected with his pale treatment of light — the cold clarity of onlooking. His paintings become freeze-frames, both in moment and created atmosphere. Detail is then allowed to the maximum, as we are left to ponder these scenes for themselves alone; they become realist to the point of becoming unreal — unreal in the sharpness of their visual articulation, which gives them this chilling poignance, as if the image is edged with a memory.