Michael’s creative world comes aliveat the point that veers away from the one which assures us that all ourtroubles are over and that we are indeed leading a happy life. A time when wehave lost faith in all that our refined world holds sacred: a cup of tea, acigarette, in fact we can begin our enquiry from any of these, from any whichwhere. Dead flies that float in a cup of tea; or fledgling birds that have justcome into the world. To view both these sights as one requires a taut state ofmind and one that succeeds in transcending time.
To critically transcend false emotionscreated by social institutions and organisations might appear transgressive, andit is the precise opposite of that falsity that moves Michael. Anyone can startfrom any direction, in fact, to work shred the curtain-threads which maskcomplex social relationships, until they give way and snap. In Michael’s art, adisembodied general affection – freed from the hold of male or female bodiesand their expressions - seems adequate to this purpose.
Familiar words such as mercy, charity,affection; acts that connote consent, opposition and contradiction, andconstitute their every existence - his lines weave into art these as well as whatappears ‘new’ and ‘changing’, a paradox that finds expression and comes alive inthe sky of Adam’s garden, an overwhelming blue that swoops down on us.
If Michael’s art births a moment thatis without birth, death and direction, calling on memories that transcend time,this act of creation which adds colour to that essentially colourless moment isnot against the order of Nature, rather it is against our gods.
