The subjects of Chantal Joffe’s seven large-scale paintings in the lower gallery (all of young women, all untitled) portray a complex mix of poses and emotions, from vulnerability and physical awkwardness to pensive contemplation and both defiant and coquettish sexuality. What they all share, however, is a powerful sense of presence.
This sometimes unsettling mix is a reflection of Joffe’s references, from literary and artistic heroines including Emily Dickinson and Lee Krasner to photographs of models from fashion magazines. The resulting images are less portraits than creative and emotional composites. This sense of sometimes brooding expectation is reinforced by Joffe’s palette, restricted here to blues and browns and a fair amount of black, the artist’s trademark quick brushstrokes and dribbly lines of paint adding to the feeling of urgency about these women’s lives.
It’s a far more relaxed and colourful affair in the upper gallery. The paintings of women here, many direct portraits of the artist’s family and friends, may still contain a certain defensiveness, and even sadness, but there’s a sense of sassiness in there too, whether in the expression of a orange-haired girl in a patterned bikini – all big lips and big hair, like a pre-teen Diana Dors, or the flushed excitement in the expression of a young woman sitting on a man’s knee (the only male presence in the show).
Most striking are two small-scale portraits of the artist with her young daughter. In a few brisk, splodgy brushstrokes Joffe manages to convey both a fierce sense of joy in and protectiveness towards her daughter in her own facial features and the pleased but slightly shy smile beaming out from the face of her child.