Downpour is something that happens, suddenly, fast and very unexpectedly. I see this very much as how the concept of change or transformation behaves in our daily lives.
– Jonathan Lyndon Chase
Lyndon Chase has repeatedly used interiors – private domestic spaces, hidden alleys, windows into the bedroom – as the backdrop to depict a diaristic narrative. In this latest body of work, lone figures gaze outward from their facade of privacy, coyly glancing outward. Other characters invite companions into their guarded perimeter, painted in conversational confidence or passionate embrace. The paintings are rich with intimacy, tension and innuendo, offering a means of reclamation and empowerment as the subjects venture outside to face the potential hostility of a newly judgemental society. Eruptions of lightning, fertile vegetation and swollen raindrops surround the interlocked figures. Lyndon Chase’s subjects may avert the gaze of the viewer, but they also permit the voyeurism of private moments of longing, lust and on occasion, loneliness.
Lyndon Chase illustrates their view that our interaction with space is fundamental to the human experience, made tangible through the body as a vessel. They urge us to consider the figures on display, their surrounding environment and the connection between queerness and nature, as well as our own personal relationship with our bodies and how we inhabit space. Downpour expands the canon of Black Queer storytelling and image-making, an intention deeply embedded in much of Lyndon Chase’s work, providing a sanctuary where the tender familiarity of fellowship becomes a form of activism.