The picturesqueness of the Pacific Northwest shorelines is not just for summer. During winter, when dark rolling clouds loom low, it sends endless energy to the sea. Storm-watching is a well-kept secret among locals. The sense of being wet, cold, isolated, and overwhelmed accentuates the raw power from the giant waves crashing against rocky cliffs.
David Haughton decides to harness that raw energy in perpetuity. A new body of seascape paintings, mostly on storm surge scenery, line the walls of Gallery 110, near Pioneer Square in Seattle. At last, there is a way to enjoy king tides without getting wet.
Haughton himself is no stranger to crashing waves. Originally from Philadelphia, the self-taught artist has been living in Vancouver BC for the last three decades. He vividly recalled his own storm-watching experience during our visit during the opening weekend — You see them coming, and sometimes it is the second or the third wave that rises up like a wall. Quite terrifying.
That rawness is matched with Haughton’s techniques to energize the surface with underpaint and overglaze. From afar, there seems to be light coming out of paintings, sparkling here and there between water and sky. The ephemeral sun breaking, through seemingly impenetrable clouds, always lifts the spirit. And it is in Haughton’s painting that we can relive that moment, no matter how fleeting it is.
Haughton chooses multimedia boards for his work, not only because the material handles his techniques better, but also because its chalky surface conveys a strong sense of immediacy and painterly feel.
From the start, Haughton would apply phthalo blue acrylic paint for underpainting. It is a daring choice, as the color is known for its intensity and is hard to compete with in terms of saturation. Then a few rounds of spraying water enables him to scrape, smudge, and smooth paint in with a variety of vigor in multiple directions, all by hand. It is a quick action — The fluid state that allows the magic to happen only lasts about five to ten minutes. Even though the treatment is gestural and monotonic in nature, he is already laying out the composition with deliberate pressure to differentiate dark from light.
That layer of underpaint unifies not only each canvas but also the whole exhibition. Left in dabs, strips, or blocks, it seems to remind us that our deep fear of stormy sea is never afar. While Haughton continues to build layers of acrylic paint, followed by glaze and scumble, the structural underpinning of the blue underpaint is never threatened. Instead, it is preserved with care, and perhaps even revered. The interaction between the deep phthalo blue and the rest color palettes demands us to reconcile and harmonize with our own eyes and imagination.
In View from (within) the Waves XIX, the extremely long format serves the composition well, with solid rocks on the left and rising tides on the right, cradling water directly toward us. Haughton cuts off the foreground and hides the horizon behind the soaring waves, thus intentionally throwing us into the actions. We may feel unsteady among inescapable water at first. Then we see a band of yellowish green floating above, unexpected, like a beam of light that becomes softened, muted, bent, and mystified by the ocean moisture. Haughton further splashed white paint all over, adding weight both visually and physically.
I stared at it long and fell into a trance of serenity. Surprisingly it is joyful, as it should be. In it, we find the evocation of that fleeting moment when we lift ourselves up out of the gloomy sky.
Fragments of the Sea II is on view until March 30, 2024. Gallery 110 is at 110 3rd Ave. S, Seattle, WA. It’s open Thursday to Sunday noon to 5 p.m.
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