Daric Gill’s ‘Absolute: Passage’ – A Colorful Reflection of Seasonsby Daric Gill

I started writing this near a railroad track in a woods with leaves painted in reds, greens, & golds. My laptop teetered precariously on a fallen Osage Orange tree; a makeshift standing desk that has been inching into soil for the last 20 years. Once part of my routine of hidden trails, the thick woods & itchy bramble that made it invisible from only a few feet away is now a distant memory. A few days ago I was unseasonably wearing shorts after riding my bike into the wilderness. Now, I’m describing this painting from a cafe in New York City in a knit hat & winter coat. That sense of disjointedness is so thoroughly mixed into this piece, that it felt fitting to start there.
I have focused on opportunities for my sculptural robotics series for the past few years. But when the new year ended, I cleared off my workbench & readied it for a new painting. I set out to build on the themes & geometry of an earlier painting, “Absolute: Allegory” (read about it here). As a person who plans every step of the piece, I laid out my composition in a few sketches & mocked up the colors on the computer. But I wasn’t ready yet. My colors weren’t where my heart was.

As is my custom, I went on a hike to gather my thoughts & to choose natural subject matter for reference as I paint. While wandering in the woods, I look for items that develop the conceptual focus & drive the philosophy of the work. My world was frosted with milky grey & brown. Though pretty in its own right, at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to escape this aesthetic. I poured over my travel photos, knowing I’d be abroad in a few months collecting sounds & experiences for my other artwork. In seconds, I became wistful for the hues of Italy’s Cinque Terre, the painted architecture in Cuba, the chromatic ceramic tiles of Andalusia, the lush greens of the Alpine mountains, & the tangerine sunsets on California’s coast.

The first brushstrokes were applied during a January ice storm with -3° F (-19° C) winds. After transferring the composition onto the painting surface, I mixed up the aspiring summertime color scheme & plotted out the base coats. By the end of the first few sessions, my color choices were so brazen against the winter around me, that I needed to get used to them. I don’t remember making the direct choice to leave it unfinished, but I do remember being frustrated by the lack of colorful biological life I could use as subject matter.
I was forcing it. One morning, I woke up & realized I had literally painted a window, a portal, that described my desire to skip through this moment & pop out somewhere at a different time. The painting sat elusive, untouched for months, missing the symbolic representation of life, thus the main focus point.
This is such an opposing notion for me. I’m a person who can’t put work down until it’s finished. Stepping away from a piece for any length feels like texting a friend something significant, only to be left on read. When too much time passes for me, that specific narrative either loses its potency or expands into something so complex it feels impossible to work backward to the beginning.
In the nearly 25 years I’ve created work professionally, I’ve never had a long passage of time where a piece rested unfinished. During its time on my desk, I got used to, even fell in love with, the colors. Maybe their stark contrast melted with the snow, now matching the seasonal colors around me. Maybe by putting it aside for a while, I could concentrate on other work, giving me the distance I needed. Or perhaps it was because, in that break, I spent another few months in Europe, erasing the disappointed stillness I felt during the initial winter stages. Likely a mixture of all three, I could return to the piece.

This piece was slated for inclusion in the 15th Bienal de La Habana (Havana Biennial). In March, I was invited to propose a new interactive electronics sculpture for this exhibition, which I gladly accepted, having partnered with an international artist exchange through the 13th Havana Biennial & other fantastic exhibitions. However, after a few hurdles & multiple requests to revise the proposal, a final concept emerged that transformed the piece from a 15-foot electronics sculpture to a small oil painting that could fit in luggage. I leaned into being a versatile artist & while I was disappointed by the drastic change, it did reignite my enthusiasm for my half-finished painting.

The seasons had changed, the biological subject matter matched the vibrancy of the work, & I had a new philosophical motivator for the end look of the painting. I spent almost 2 months traveling abroad, listening to the world, & gaining inspiration that fueled the new idea of the work. The final brushstrokes were made in a September drought on a hot 91° F (32° C) day. I built a frame from reclaimed walnut wood, formerly antique furniture. The final photos were taken of the work & it was dropped off for a preview exhibition here in the US.
A couple days before the exhibition, last-minute changes arose to the exhibition arrangements, & considering the political climate here, I made the thoughtful decision to pause my inclusion in the exhibition until there is a more focused direction for my work & the world around us. My strong connection with the people of Cuba is important, & I am excited about the opportunity to re-establish that artistic relationship soon.
This piece is one of my new favorites. There was a real feeling of release when I returned to the painting. If you’ve ever created something from nothing, you might know that internal battle of ideas while you test out directions for your creation. There’s no handbook. All failures are yours & all successes are yours. A missed target can feel defeating. But working through an idea until it works well has so much validation. And this piece works now. I’m pleased with it.
A Visual Description (for the visually impaired or curious soul)
An oil painting in a vertical rectangular format. A series of arched geometry grow concentrically from the center of the composition, creating a perspective similar to that of looking down a hallway or through a passageway. At the forefront is a vertical translucent white element, long & flat on the sides, with rounded bottom corners & an arched top. A single forest-green leaf transitions in focus beneath the frosted shape. Below the leaf are a pair of pastel pink-orange shapes. Similar in appearance to cut paper, they are stacked in a way that resembles a stylized upside-down tulip. The light source is above & to the left, which casts fairly stark shadows down & to the right.
The top teardrop shape on the left, a shade darker in value than the one on the right, is also slightly shorter. This creates a directional focus that angles up & to the left, matching the diagonal placement of the leaf. Below these layers is a sky-blue plane with an arched portal cut out in the center, outlined in a neutral blue-grey, exposing a soft yellow background in the furthest plane. Looking to the bottom left of the portal, you can see two small drops of water about to drip down from the light blue background. The artist’s signature is opposite to the small drips on the bottom right, located slightly lower in the negative space created by the central elements in the painting. The piece is held in a simple light brown walnut frame.





