|
Natif de Sofia
(Bulgarie), il a commencé ses cours d'art au secondaire à Sofia,
pour poursuivre ses études à l'académie des Beaux-Arts, après deux
années de service militaire obligatoire. Sa spécialisation en
gravure et en illustration l'a mené à l'académie des Arts graphique
et de la peinture à Leipzig, dans l'ancienne Allemagne de l'est.
Après sa graduation , il retourne en Bulgarie et s'établit comme
artiste autonome.
Pour sa première
exposition solo en 1986, il s'inspire du Décaméron de Boccace. La
même année, ses toiles font partie d'une exposition de groupe a
Stuggart (Allemagne), suivie d'exposition solo à Berlin, Leipzig et
Dresde en 1988. Les succès connu en Allemagne lui valent une
invitation à exposer à Cuba. «C'est ainsi que je suis arrivé au
Canada» dit-il!
L'avion devait se
poser à Gander (Terre-Neuve) pour refaire le plein avant de se
rendre à Cuba. «J'ai quitté l'avion avec d'autres passagers et je
n'y suis pas remonté: mes toiles et mes bagages ont pris le chemin
de Cuba. J'ai demandé le statut de réfugié. Je me foutais de mes
toiles et de mes bagages. J'étais libre» raconte t-il.
Lamb travaille comme
graveur et illustrateur à St-Jean, exposant ses oeuvres à la moindre
occasion. Il travaille pour la revue The Atlantic Hedge, publié par
Breakwater Books, et reçoit un prix lors du concours international
d'art organisé en 1993 par la 54 Gallery de Soho, New-York. La même
année il quitte St-Jean pour Montréal et obtient l'année suivante sa
citoyenneté canadienne.
À Montréal il est
d'abord embauché comme graveur et graphiste pour le studio P.M. et
travaillera plus tard comme peintre a une série de toiles évoquant
la nostalgie de Montréal pour le collectionneur Martin Overland. Les
scènes urbaines de Lamb sont peuplés de personnages, hommes femmes
et enfants, qui occupent la porte d'une épicerie de coin de rue,
luttent contre la neige ou regardent d'une fenêtre à l'étage. «Ces
scènes urbaines m'ont amené à peindre de en plus de personnage»
dit-il.
Ses "personnages"
sont facilement reconnaissables; malgré des positions tordues et
voûtées, ils conservent toujours une certaine grâce. On les voit
dans un bistro, à la maison, sur le coin d'une rue, sur un plancher
de danse- intimement engagés, toujours en pleine conversation entre
eux ou avec ceux qui les voient. Lamb utilise une caméra pour
enregistrer les scènes qu"il retravaille en studio, pour aboutir
finalement à une toile qui ressemble peu à l'original.
Il peint une esquisse
sur papier et la transfère sur une toile montée sur panneau. Il
utilise de la pâte et du sable fin pour rehausser la texture des
couches de fons acryliques. Ses visages sont peints à l'aquarelle
sur pastels. Il utilise parfois un crayon pastel Allemand pour les
menus détails. Il obtient une profondeur dans ses acryliques en
utilisant un tampon imbibé d'alcool pour faire ressortir les zones
de lumière. «J'ai appris ces techniques en Europe, dit-il, et elles
me sont bien utiles ici». Sa plus grande toile fait 30 X 40 po. et
sa plus petite 9 X 12 po.
Martin Murray,
Magazin’Art, 12e Année, No 01, Automne 1999
In
the aftermath of the First World War, some German painters
cultivated the art of the grotesque to such savage effect that it
assured their destruction. Their social commentary, through the
medium of mordant caricatures of such symbols of oppression as
landlords, bankers, and profiteers were not to be tolerated in
Hitler’s Reich. Some fled by the country. Others died in prison
camps.
Steven Lamb’s paintings are reminiscent of their work in the way
that he, too, uses the grotesque as a medium
of social commentary. But there the similarity ends. Lamb, himself a
refugee from oppression, paints situations like a tête-à-tête at a
café table and a duet at a piano – where they painted individuals.
Lamb’s art has a whimsical strain. Their art was driven be a sense
of outrage.
That
Lamb uses a scalpel where the artists of the twenties uses
bludgeons could be ascribed to a difference in artistic
temperament. It could also be ascribed to difference in time and
place. Lamb doesn’t need a bludgeon to make his point, as his
predecessors did in their turbulent age. That he recognizes this is
very much his credit. His grotesqueries retain their humanity.
Born
in Sofia, Bulgaria, Lamb’s education in art began with
high school in Sofia and continued at the Academy of Fine Arts after
a two-year break for his
compulsory military service. His specialization in printmaking and
illustration led to the Academy of Graphic Art and Painting in
Leipzig, in what was still East Germany. On graduation from the
Academy, he returned to Bulgaria where he painted as a self-employed
artist.
He
exhibited a series of paintings based upon the Decameron of
Boccachio for his fist solo show in 1986 in Bulgaria. His work was
included in a group show in Stuttgart, Germany, in the same year,
followed by a solo exhibition in 1988 in Berlin, Leipzig and
Dresden. His German successes led to an invitation to exhibit in
Cuba and that, he says, “Is how I came to Canada.”
Air
transport from behind the Iron Curtain was still refuelling at
Gander, Newfoundland, en route to Cuba when Lamb and his paintings
took off. When they landed to refuel. “I left the plane with the
others but I didn’t get back on. Instead I applied for a refuges
status and stayed in Newfoundland while my paintings and other
belongings went on to Cuba. I didn’t care,” says Lamb. “I was free.”
Lamb
worked as a printmaker and illustrator in St-John’s, displaying his
art at every opportunity. He illustrated The Atlantic Edge,
published by Breakwater Books, and was a prize-winner at the 1993
International Art Competition at 54 Gallery in Soho, New York. He
left St John’s for Montreal the same year and the following year
became a Canadian citizen.
In
Montreal he was employed first as a printmaker and graphic artist by
Le Studio P.M. and later as a painter, working with the collector,
Martin Oveland, on a series of paintings which evoked “The Nostalgia
of Montreal.” Lamb’s cityscapes are richly peopled with men, women
and children crowding the door of the corner store, struggling
through the snow, watching from the upstairs window. “I have become
more of a people painter with these cityscapes, he says.”
His
people, always graceful how ever hunched and distorted their
postures, are immediately recognizable. They are to be seen at the
bistro and at home, on the street corner and a dance floor –
intimately engaged, always with something to say to each other and
to those who view them. Lamb uses his camera to record a possible
scene and then works and reworks the raw material of the film into a
painting which bears very little resemblance to its source.
He
paints to an outline previously prepared on paper and transferred to
canvas on a board. He uses paste and fine sand to enhance the
texture of the undercoats of acrylics. His faces are done with
watercolour over pastel pencil for fine detail. He achieves a depth
to his acrylics by the judicious use of a swab dipped in alcohol to
bring out the highlights. “These are techniques I learned in
Europe,” he says, “and they serve me well here.” His largest canvas
is 30 x 40 in., smallest 9 x 12 in.
Martin Murray,
Magazin’Art, 12e Année, No 01, Automne 1999 |
