Jenna Gribbon: Light Holding

Massimo De Carlo Gallery

 On a bright February morning, the soft pastels and gentle voyeuristic nature of Jenna Gribbon’s paintings suit the soothing space of Massimo De Carlo gallery. The high ceilings and chandeliers frame the first series, on the ground floor, which explores the intimacy between Jenna, her partner (and now fiancée) Mackenzie Scott and her son. A bright light is present in them all, inside or outside the frame, casting heavy shadows and creating a gorgeous contrast that illuminates a spectrum of tones. Gribbons has honed an economic application of the paint, no stroke wasted, with loose, broad brushstrokes that become freer as they form the nondescript backgrounds. These backgrounds often look more like wild landscapes than the walls of a bedroom or living room.

The way her son squints into the light, and Scott shields herself from it, creates discomfort for the viewer in understanding that the subject was uncomfortable and in a state of naked vulnerability. We are forced into a little triangle of communication, artist – painter – viewer. Gribbon studies the relationship between painter and sitter with the help of the lamp, which is sometimes held by the sitter, creating a performative element, and meaning that the full view of the sitter by the painter is obscured by such a bright light. The sitter now has some control and has placed the artist and viewer under the spotlight. A lovely nod to the theatre, and perhaps interrogation techniques…

In the podcast Talk Art, Gribbon says that it’s a common mistake to make assuming the blonde woman in the vast majority of the paintings is herself. In fact, it is Scott. It is indeed unusual for such a large and consistent body of work to have a single muse that isn’t the artist themselves. In the same podcast, Gribbon acknowledges that, by coincidence, Scott is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, slim young woman who epitomises Western beauty standards, but the intimate nature and voyeuristic angles of the portraits mean that Scott is authentically and wholly herself, perceived ‘flaws’ and all. These paintings are celebrating the beauty of a woman loved deeply by another, the intimate moments of their relationship and in their home, and the ability to play, stage scenes, and manipulate the traditional roles of viewer and viewed.  

Smaller works are found upstairs, much smaller in fact, just 16 x 11 inches is the size of one of my favourites. It’s called “Couch Cramps” and shows Scott bundled in the sort of baggy, soft sweatshirt that most women own for the days when they, as Scott is doing, slouch on the sofa with a hot water bottle pressed on their stomach. Such a moment of vulnerability, as Scott looks beyond the painter, a hand resting on her head in exhaustion. The way the paint is applied in these smaller ones is so delicate, as if not wanting to disturb the subject with the brushstrokes. The scale too, nearly drowned in the huge white rooms, presents the pictures as scenes that we weren’t meant to see, tiny snapshots of Scott experiencing the mundane things that are so universal – like getting something stuck in your eye.

It feels like a quiet privilege to have been allowed in; the former townhouse still feels like it could be a domestic dwelling in some ways and experiencing the paintings in total silence feels like I’m sneaking around Gribbon’s house getting glimpses into her relationship, and life, with Scott and her son. In an age of social media, where following someone’s Instagram diligently can make you feel like you really know them, I have a similar feeling leaving this exhibition. Although this feels more genuine.