Sworn to Secrecy

Arcadia Contemporary presents new work by Stephen Mackey

By Sarah Gianelli

Stephen Mackey has an air of elusivity about him. During our interview, he seemed cautious not to reveal too much about himself or his art, which shares a similar vibe. Digging around to learn more about the British artist, my intuition was validated by a quote I found.

The People In The Soil, oil on panel, 19½ x 24 in.

“No information [equals] mystique,” shares the artist. “That’s definitely part of it, although it does sound a little contrived put like that. You can have any facts you want, but you’re sworn to secrecy. Only kidding, I just hate those sites where they have a moody photo of the artist with some trenchant quote about their life and art underneath. I’m 45, married, lots of children, cats, rabbit,” he continues. “I’m also self-taught, so if you’re going to give anything away, let it be that. People love it, it’s democratic.”

Mackey’s paintings, often of women, are also enigmatic—depictions of innocence and beauty tinged with the ominous, like the dark forest lurking on the fringes in a fairytale, and laden with impenetrable secrets.

The Angel Of The Evening, oil on panel, 24 x 18½ in.

“More so than women per se, I’m interested in the feminine as an aesthetic,” says Mackey. “Something delicate and finely wrought seems to be so easily at odds with the world. Everyone in my paintings is at odds with the world, which may explain the Gothic and macabre elements.”

The Crooked Tooth is a portrait of a woman from another, unspecified time, wearing satin and lace, her hair adorned with large poppy blooms and a heart-shaped locket around her neck. The old-fashioned mirror she holds partially conceals her face like a mask. On her visible cheek is a perfect circle of rouge suggestive of the vaudevillian. A vague sense of horror creeps in when the eye is drawn to the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth and then down to the tooth she holds, and the fly resting on the milky white skin of her hand. “She didn’t like her crooked tooth, so she pulled it out,” says Mackey, refusing to unlock the door to the painting’s greater depths.

“My use of symbolism is generally limited to things like masks, hearts, pomegranates…symbols so old that they have an ambiguity and breadth of reference in spite of their specificity,” explains Mackey. “I’m going for resonance and mystery, not allegory or something that can be read.”

The Crooked Tooth, oil on panel, 22 x 15¾ in.

One of the anomalies in the selection of new work I was privy to is The People In The Soil, which features children “playing” around a grave, shovels in hand, in front of an imposing stone house. Surprisingly, Mackey grants us a glimpse into the shadows of his imaginative mind.

“It’s the end of the summer holidays, somewhere in North Wales, by the look of it. After months of idleness, children’s play tends to get increasingly weird and Baroque. Also, they kind of reminded me of the Brontë children.”

Mackey relies on photographs and historic paintings for reference, a process that works best for the artist. “Models would be unthinkable,” he says. “I couldn’t have people hanging around while I’m working. I don’t hold with observation in art: it’s just polluting your work with reality.”