ALL THAT GLISTERS ISN’T | Kal Mansur

May 15 - July 29, 2023

In Kal Mansur's new series of paintings he continues his exploration of changing perspectives. His idea that most of our differences would be viewed as similarities with a simple change of viewing angle has been reduced to the minimum number of elements. One colour, one brush. Angled brush strokes create a well defined border between areas in the paintings. These borders are only visible because the strokes, made with a wide house painting brush, end where strokes of a different angle begin.

Painted on baltic birch panels and framed in white acrylic, these paintings hold our attention by shimmering as the light of each day and viewing angles change.

If you just change the way you view something you might completely alter your perception of it,” says Mansur.

Reviewed in: ARTORONTO.CA


Kal Mansur at Myta Sayo Gallery by Mikael Sandblom

Light, as much as colour and form, is central to Kal Mansur’s art. The glow of reflected colour, the diffusion of detail through translucent surfaces, as well as the play of shadows are all integral to the impact of his work.

In this new series, Mansur distills the interplay of light and surface to a succinct, minimal expression. The work in the exhibition All that Glitters Isn’t consists of glossy, gold-coloured panels. On first impression, the surfaces appear to be divided into geometric fields of varying shades of gold, some more yellow; some more brown. But move around and you will see the lighter and darker areas swap places. The colours shift depending on your point of view and the angle of light. Move in close and you’ll notice that the sharply defined geometry is textured with prominent brush marks. You’ll also notice that the paintings are completely monochrome. The appearance of different shades is solely due to the textured surface.

The materials used are conventional. Acrylic paint is applied to birch plywood panels with a large, course bristled house painting brush. The resulting deep grooves create surfaces that reflect more light perpendicular to the brush strokes and less light in other directions. When light strikes parallel to the grooves, the surface appears darker; when the angle of the light is perpendicular, the surface is brighter.

The brush marks are varied due to the bristles of the brush and the movement of the artist’s hand resulting in a texture almost like wood grain. Mansur has employed a special formulation of acrylic medium to preserve the deep textures in the paint. Normally, it would be hard to maintain such depth of relief once the paint has cured. The various fields of paint are often separated by thin raised ridges which are the result of meticulous masking. There is an intriguing tension between the crisp, hard edge arrangement of the geometry and the looser, hand-crafted quality of the surfaces themselves.

The shapes of the geometric fields invite an interpretation of perspective space within the image. But no single view is resolved. Whereas some elements suggest receding depth, other elements contradict this reading. We are left with a kind of fragmented space that folds back and forth and eventually leads back to the flat surface of the artwork.

These paintings are difficult to photograph. Since the images change at every angle of view and variation in lighting, there can be no definitive photographic representation. It is impossible to capture in a single image the experience of seeing them in a room where you can move around and observe the changes. On the gallery’s website there are photos from multiple angles for each piece as well as videos which give you a good approximation of what the physical encounter is like.

Modern abstract art has been practiced for over a century and yet it has more than its fair share of sceptics. On one hand there are the people whose ‘kids could do it’, and on the other hand critics who are more interested in the ‘cerebral’ intent than ‘retinal’ aesthetic experiences – to use Duchampian terms. For all these detractors, the belief is that abstract art came to a dead end long ago.

Scepticism is further fuelled by the fact that abstract art is hard to talk about. How much can you say that would be objectively true when the viewing experience is mostly subjective and specific to the person looking at the work? A viewer’s response is neither fixed nor universal, but rather elusive and open ended. There is no particular meaning to be decoded. The best approach to work like this is to ask yourself how it makes you feel, rather than what you think it means.

The intent of the abstract artist, the ideas that inspired the work, may remain hidden but this can open wider possibilities for the viewer. Mansur’s work draws on his personal background, but knowledge of his history is not required to engage with the work. What a viewer of the work gets out of it may or may not correlate with what motivated the artist. The ambiguity allows for a wider and more sustained engagement. As Kal Mansur says of his work, “If you just change the way you view something you might completely alter your perception of it.” Mansur’s ongoing technical and visual innovations demonstrate that there’s no imminent dead end here. So don’t give up on abstract art!