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| elka park |
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| life boat |
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| low tide |
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| returning the fire |
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| trophy hunt |
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| cory |
Kris Lewis paints quite a curiosity. His renderings are life-like, and, to my eyes, seem to pay homage to masters of centuries past, the likes of Remembrandt van Rijn and Peter Paul Rubens. He doesn't mention either in his biography, but
His reverence for masters of old is apparent in his depiction of the human figure, which he uses as a vector for hidden stories, delicate emotion, and finding truth. His affinity for people-watching also informs his paintings, collecting glances, gestures, miens and hints and channeling them through the canvas for the viewer to share in the experience.
I am especially intrigued by a theme: that of flying or floating things, amid these figures. We normally expect to see them in the distance, but these things join the foreground in ways that truly make for curious paintings. In this way, Lewis departs from those masters.
What do these things represent?
I'd say they're very much elaborate on the personality of these figures. For example, for "elka park," the last vestiges of autumn - a final handful of falling leaves - anticipates winter flurries, the cold from which she is turned. The boy in "low tide" holds what resembles a bill-guisarme, which in turn the charcoal banner mirrors, altogether speaking to a pirate fantasy. Finally, "cory" harkens back to a man of letters, and perhaps the drifting and linking hexagons mean he writes about science.
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