by Kevlin Henney
“Clarabel, may I just start by congratulating you. First day and your exhibition is already a success, the critics are abuzz.”
“These paintings are something of a departure from your previous work. More abstract, more violent, yet at the same time more vital.”
“I’m trying to cut deeper, to capture the essence of life.”
“Let me describe for our listeners this first piece, It’s Over. A gentle background of broad brush strokes and flurries in light colours, with dramatic sprays of dark red arcing across it. Conceptual, yet deeply emotional. Was there a particular inspiration?”
“The paintings here are all about endings. This came from ending the relationship with my boyfriend.”
She’d been staring at the painting for hours, her mind as blank as she wished the canvas to be. He’d walked in, joking about suffering for her art. Mockery that hit the wrong note, a note that ended in gurgling silence and arterial spray. She’d surprised both of them.
“This next piece, Stepsister, is executed in the same vein, but as a triptych. Any particular challenges?”
“Yes, placement was difficult.”
Difficult, but she’d managed to get a perplexed Annie in the right position before pulling the knife.
“With such a large body of work, you must have encountered logistical issues?”
The bodies. Dozens. So many.
“What next for you?”
“One last painting in this style, then I want to move on. I’ll be putting myself into it.”
“Clarabel, thank you for talking to us.”