Torrent

Hunterdon Art Museum, Clinton, New Jersey.

Joseph Hu and AndreaMarquis

Kulvinder Kaur Dhew’s exhibition Torrent, at the Hunterdon Art Museum, is comprised of eight black and white charcoal drawings completed between 2008 and 2013. Ranging in size from 6 ½ x 9 inches to 40 inches square, the drawings depict various cloud formations, a number of them in the midst of a heavy storm or tornado. Torrent is defined as both a strong and fast-moving stream of water; and a sudden, violent, and copious outpouring, typically words or feelings. In this instance, the drawings are meant to evoke both definitions.

At first glace, the eight charcoal drawings look like a similar group of photo-realistic cloud formations. Imagining the sounds of thunder and lightning, and the violent force of fierce winds, it’s easy to get caught up in the thrill of the moment: Mother Nature’s destructive power. In her statement, Dhew writes, “Using the storm as a metaphor for any number of contemporary concerns, I am interested in exploring near-to-almost epic events from an emotive point of view, rather than a simply descriptive one.” Her ominous, swirling clouds bring to mind events as diverse as the recent Hurricane Sandy, which had a severe impact on New Jersey’s shoreline, and the clouds of dust seen on media images after the destruction of the Twin Towers on September 11th.

The drawings Velocity Series (Alizarin Crimson) and Velocity Series (Blossom) are composed of massive tornado funnels touching down over a thin strip of landscape. The horizon exists as a temporal anchor, suggesting an implied narrative. The beautifully rendered chaos distracts from the haunting notion of what human upheaval lay just to either side of the frame.

While other drawings allude to the possibility of physical loss and destruction brought about by storms, Syrup of Figs describes a landscape fraught with psychological weight. With a dark and turbulent sky, and a lonely path leading through an empty field, it’s tempting to think of Van Gogh’s Wheatfield with Crows. However, Dhew’s central focal point combined with an animated and gestural description of the tempest reveal an admiration for the London-born (where Dhew also originally hails) Romantic artist J.M.W. Turner. The drawing’s curious title Syrup of Figs, a Cockney rhyming slang for the word wigs, could either confirm the reference to the wig-maker’s son, or more likely describe the coiffed nature of the clouds.

Without a horizon, Beijing Elevator stands out from the rest of the drawings. One of the largest of the group at 40 inches square, the work is mostly black, with a clump of billowy clouds peaking out through a dark curtain. While violent storms would evoke references to Turner, another British artist noted for his landscapes, John Constable seems appropriate here. Constable’s practice of “skying”, painting on-the-spot studies of clouds, captured the movement and magic of his English weather conditions. Like Constable, Dhew’s picture sets the viewer aloft, airborne amid the dramatic dark and light of the clouds. In this horizon-less composition, a poetic interpretation of the picture seems possible. Staring at the drawing of a cloud, the viewer is able to reveal imagery seen only by themselves, from within the floating vapor.

The nature of Dhew’s medium—charcoal on paper—lends an immediacy and directness to the works that translates into a landscape in motion. This cinematic quality is part of what embodies the pictures with so much emotion; each rendering of the turbulent sky becomes personal and meaningful to the viewer. By pausing the scene mid-action, Dhew leaves her audience wondering what will come next.