Jess Allen - This Is Now

There’s something bittersweet about a human shadow. By definition they can’t exist without the presence of the person that casts them, but they’re also lonesome outlines that act as an impermanent reminder of what precious little time we have. In that context, Allen uses shadows to imply immediate presence as well as memory.

Her compositions are frequently uncertain, with a challenging ambiguity left wide open to interpretation. Look at the woman who lays facing into a sofa while the shadow of a male figure looms over her. Is she about to be tenderly woken from a nap, or crying after an argument? It would be all too easy to infer a nefarious #MeToo moment is about to occur and the title of the work — “I even dream about you” — doesn’t exactly clarify the situation.

In another, the shadow shows a couple embrace just out of frame. It’s a tender moment. It might also be the memory of someone looking at their sofa and fondly reminiscing about a long gone lover or partner, which is both a nice sentiment and a sad reminder of isolation. The prevalence of warm, yellow light generally leads me towards wholesome readings of the scenes — sunny days tend to lend everyone a happy disposition — but it’s hard to ignore the overwhelming visual implications of absence. Two works show open books, alone on a chair. Has someone momentarily left to make a cup of tea, or will those books lay forever open?

Allen’s work triggers a conflict between these thoughts in my head. I want to assume positive intent. I also wonder if I’m forcing pleasant backstories onto imagery that scares me, because doesn’t everyone fear being alone? Or even worse, being alone together. In the largest work a woman looks at a man that’s reading while a cat stares vacantly away. None of the figures interact with each other. Filled with actual physical inhabitants it’s the most occupied canvas in the show. It’s also the loneliest.

There’s plenty of mystery in the works with human figures to allow for a range of interpretations, but the less Allen gives us the stronger they become. A back turned to the canvas says less than a closed eye embrace, but the ambiguous shadow compositions tell me more about myself than they do about the painting, and I think that’s why I keep returning to them.


Plan your visit

This Is Now’ runs until 21 April.

Visit unitlondon.com and follow @unitlondon on Instagram for more info about the venue.

Visit jessallen.co.uk and follow @jessallenartist on Instagram for more info about the artist.


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