HASSAN ALI
THE theft of primordial fire is a longstanding trope in myth and art. Those among us who were inspired by Rex Warner’s Men and Gods have likely encountered the story of Prometheus.
For those who haven’t, here’s the summary: Prometheus stole fire from Olympus – specifically from Hephaestus’ (the blacksmith god) forge – and brought it to humans. As punishment for his theft Prometheus was bound to a stone where an eagle would eternally peck at his liver. It’s specifically important to note where this fire came from: not just from a divine source, but from a divine embodiment of creation and ingenuity.
Fire, in the Promethean story, is what illuminates the human mind and enables understanding; it’s also a tool of transformation (think not only of blacksmiths but of chefs, candles, and bushfires). Summarily, what Prometheus gave us was power. If this all still sounds Greek to you, think of Prometheus as the serpent in Eden and think of the fire as the fruit.
[caption id="attachment_1119570" align="alignnone" width="1024"] Brian Ashing's The Nature of Power.-[/caption]
Brian Ashing’s third solo show The Nature of Power draws on this symbolic heritage and plays with fire as motif. In Ceremonials 2, a singular egret stalks a burning marsh – its wings lifted in preparation for flight. Above the egret, a conflagration cuts the painting in two. In the lower half, around and near the egret, the fire casts its reflections forebodingly into the marsh; in the upper half, the sky is filled with orange and yellow smoke – just above the smoke, orange-tinted white egrets are flying away. Lady Armageddon, just about two steps away from Ceremonials 2, depicts a female figure who seems to be commanding fire to rain down onto a coastal scene. The female figure is poised and bears no discernible expression beyond indifference. Considered together, both pieces come as warnings of the destructive nature of power when wielded anthropocentrically.
[caption id="attachment_1119567" align="alignnone" width="1024"] The the twin ladies of Destiny and Damnation.-[/caption]
Certainly, excluding natural disasters and religious considerations, power has long been an anthropocentric idea. Whether we imagine ourselves as chosen by some deity to have full agency within and over the world or as simply the lucky ones in the genetic-evolutionary lottery, it’s clear to see that humans have shaped the world more than any other species. As the catalogue for the show notes, the artist has created his own mythos in his exploration of power. For the most part, the paintings feature human characters: the twin ladies of Destiny and Damnation, the sphinx-like woman-ibis The Riddle, all the men in the male nudes that take up most of the gallery's northern wall. However, none of these human figures appear to be using their power for creation.
In the titular, two-toned triptych we do get to see some representation of creation. The first panel shows a male figure grovelling among flowers; beneath him are three other figures, all human-lookin
