Julie Heffernan, “Whether You Fall”
by Mark Van Proyen
Catharine Clark Gallery, San Francisco, California
Exhibition continues through January 11, 2025
December 14, 2024
Julie Heffernan, “Self-Portrait with Empty Nest,” 2024, oil on canvas, 68 x 54”.
All images courtesy of Catharine Clark Gallery, San Francisco.
Julie Heffernan’s eight new paintings are over-the-top perfervid, doubling down on the double meaning of the word fantasy. As constructed images, they are fantastic amalgamations of rococo and surrealistic ornamentation, all as richly colored as a bouquet of fresh flowers. As painterly performances, they elaborate on the very idea of elaboration, going far beyond the conventions of descriptive illustration to the point of visual-tactile rhapsody. Each is a kaleidoscopic deep dive into a stir-fried fever dream celebrating the triumph of life over death and decay.
Seven of the paintings are large. All but two feature semi-nude female figures centrally positioned near the bottom of their compositions. Each look out to meet the viewer’s gaze, all surrounded by an eruption of polymorphous foliage. In a few cases, explosive shapes burst from the heads of the otherwise impassive figures, signaling the onset of a manic episode, a dream, or perhaps a mystical vision. In the background distances, we sometimes see shadowy renditions of struggle and death, lurking like ghosts behind the triumphal figures.
Julie Heffernan, “Spill (Laocoon),” 2024, oil on canvas, 72 x 68”.
It is fair to assume that Heffernan’s figures are either self-portraits or imaginative surrogates. These are rendered in multiple layers, showing more care in execution relative to other aspects of the paintings. For example, in “Self-Portrait with Empty Nest,” (2024), we see a near-nude figure standing proudly with a woven basket positioned in front of her abdomen, obviously alluding to pregnancy. Strapped to her back is another basket containing foodstuffs and other odds and ends that might be used to turn a house into a home, if and when one is found. Behind her is a large and gloomy painting positioned between golden curtains, featuring dead animals lying on the ground.
In “Spill, (Laocoon)” (2024), the same red-haired figure stands in front of a tree amidst an abundance of bright orange peaches, thistles and other floating orbs that look like gargantuan enlargements of COVID particles. Perched in the branches of the tree are small vignettes of male heroes taken from Greek mythology, including Laocoon and his two sons struggling against a large snake.
Julie Heffernan, “Study for Self-Portrait with Raiment,” 2024, oil on canvas, 24 x 18”.
The only small painting in the exhibition, “Study for Self-Portrait with Raiment” (2024), shows a slender nude figure wearing a regal robe and a bright orange hat that is far too large and bulbous for her head. The tall hat stretches upward in the composition, seeming to signify and satirize status while commanding a large portion of our attention. Similar headgear is prominent in “Spill (Ashdod)” (2024), except that in this large painting it splits into seven distinct shapes that look like the large petals of a tropical flower. These petals read as thought bubbles, each containing a separate scene depicting memorable moments in an autobiographical liturgy, relating to the central figure like the predella scenes in medieval altarpieces.
Julie Heffernan, “Self-Portrait as Empath,” 2024, oil on canvas, 60 x 52”.
Two of the paintings do not feature a central figure, opting instead to present fantasy landscapes that are elaborate salutes to the work of Hieronymus Bosch and the earlier paintings of Pieter Bruegel. In “Self-Portrait on the Brink II,” (2024) a ramshackle raft moves down a flowing river that culminates in a waterfall, a potent image of impending disaster. The raft is covered by a large circus tent, with a large leafless tree popping though its top. Laundry and other items hang from its branches. Trapped in another tree on a near bank is the artist, rendered at Lilliputian scale, helplessly witnessing the apocalyptic event that is about to unfold. Despite this, the scene is given a comic treatment, no doubt because Heffernan sees no other way to face the impending storms of climate disaster, neo-fascist politics and proliferating military confrontations. Is laughter still the best medicine? Dr. Freud thought so over a century ago. It may now be the only medicine left to us.
