Art seen: March 26

Invisible by Rod Eales.

(Henderson Gallery, Central Stories, Alexandra)

"Floral Portraits" is an appropriate title for Rod Eales’ new solo show at Alexandra’s Central Stories.

The incredibly detailed, richly toned oil paintings aren’t simply floral studies or still life scenes; Eales treats her botanical subjects with a level of respect, personality and multi-layered meaning that is usually reserved for human portraiture.

The works trace through the life cycle of flowers, from the first buds to the last withering of petals and in doing so, take on a sense of pathos and an exploration of memory and mortality that resonates well beyond the plant world.

In multiple works, Eales depicts a Victorian parlour dome, in which flowers and mementoes were collected and protected inside a glass dome. We can’t fight against our own finite time, but we can try to preserve things we find special and beautiful. However, in Eales’ work, the petals are already curling and falling.

There’s an undeniable poignancy — but not necessarily gloom.

Eales’ imagery is frequently almost photorealistic, with occasional, unexpected hints of both graphic and textile design, and nods to other art styles in the reflected surfaces of glass vessels.

The effect is incredibly striking.

Her skill and obvious delight in maximalist pattern and hidden details infuses the whole collection with such a palpable appreciation of beauty and joy of life.

All of the works are painted on circular canvases, emphasising the perpetual cycles of growth, decay and renewal — but also an enduring, underlying sense of hope, spirit and
curiosity.

Blew 5 by Galia Amsel.

(Milford Galleries, Queenstown)

The rise and crash of waves, the golden dust of sun-drenched hills, the airy joy of a summer breeze, the icy blast of a winter storm — Galia Amsel’s glass art evokes the force and power of the natural world, while also providing moments of softness, stillness and connection.

Each piece is a study of form and colour, playing with the light, knowing when to hold back and when to dial up the intensity, masterfully nudging at the viewer’s emotions.

Some feel instinctively playful, others sharper-edged or more ambiguous; all are an impressive feat of artistic skill, vision and engineering.

Often in art, glass acts as a protective barrier between a still image and the outside elements that would eventually destroy it; here, those elements seem to surge forward from within the glass, bringing a sense of liveliness and energy.

The "Exploring Inside the Bubble" series introduces elements of blown glass and the result is beautiful, as if quivering drops of dye have just fallen into a pool of water, bleeding and blending like the strokes of a watercolour brush.

In the cast-glass works, Amsel uses texture, balance and angles to create a sense of movement.

As our eyes follow the fast, swooping curve of Meander 4, we might be tumbling in the deepest depths of the ocean, before we’re lifted upwards by the effervescent wind in Blew 5, shiver in the encroaching ice of White Squall 26, and shelter under the feathering dark wing of Merla 5.

Through the Window by Jen Anderson.

(Heafey Gallery, Central Stories, Alexandra)

As the daughter of renowned artist Douglas Badcock, Jen Anderson grew up in a creative world, surrounded by paints, brushes, unfolding stories and unique artistic voices.

Her love of colour and natural beauty led to an aptitude for garden design, but in 2024, in her 70s, she picked up her own paintbrush — and a lot of people will be very thankful that she did.

Her second exhibition, "Collection of Works", is both technically skilful and intensely, intrinsically warm and inviting.

There’s an expressionistic sense of joy in the way that Anderson uses her brush and considerable experience with colour theory and the behaviour of light in the way that she chooses her palette.

With each canvas, the floral-themed scenes take an increasingly fascinating turn into abstraction and Anderson has a notable talent for building atmosphere and narrative.

The sunbaked "Spring Series" radiates happiness, while works like Through the Window have an almost theatrical feel, as if we’re entering mid-scene into an evolving drama, about to bear witness to scenes behind the subtly, ominously fractured and hole-dotted glass.

In the equally multifaceted Resilience, trees line a windswept path, their branches drawn inwards to form a swirling canopy of chaos over the viewer’s head, the whole scene seemingly pulled towards a central vortex.

It’s a powerful image that feels very evocative of mental turmoil and external disaster, those times when it feels like the sky is falling and the walls are closing in — as we walk on regardless.

By Laura Elliott