I have always been fascinated with stories; how we tell them, who we tell them to, what they mean, and how they change. They have come in many forms throughout human history, with print and digital being the latest incarnations.
However, my personal favourite has always been the visual, as it tends to give less context, allowing its viewer to envision the moments in between each scene in their own personal beauty. Whispered moments are stolen on entangled balconies by star-crossed lovers. A mother finds refuge in a single second of peace, taking comfort in the enfolding quiet. The shared glance and ensuing smile between friends as one sits stoically for a portrait to be named after her same famed smile.
Visual artists create instances of a story, capturing a singular moment, giving you just enough to obtain a narrative. They leave you to create the rest, envisioning the past that led you there and where it will all take you in the future.
The power of a visual story is awe-inspiring, gathering you inexorably in its arms, and carrying you through your journey until you’ve reached the conclusion. It offers no response to your questions, no matter how you stare, and beg, and plead, but, like a doting mother, it never once leaves your side. Instead, it waits for you to come to your own conclusions, all the while, quietly encouraging you onward. Visual stories, like all good tales, always show rather than tell.
Walking through the collection of art in Everything Beaux did just that for me. Each work of art is an enthralling story and each artist is an author. Each show is a patient mother, holding your hand and leading you from one piece to the next as you absorb the beauty in front of you.
As with my favourite books, I simultaneously crave and dread that final piece because I know that every story must end and that I must wait for the next one to begin…