Clyde Hopkins. 1946 – 2018.
“one of the great qualities of Hopkins’ new paintings, as i see them, is to have abandoned the particularly English problem of whether abstract art needs to be in some painterly relation to landscape. He has decided it would be better to avoid the term entirely. On the contrary it is through recollections of Dali, Miro, even Picasso, that the artist has remembered how the sun can sharpen the shadows, heat the landscape, and probably addle the brains. Are we madder or saner now? It makes no difference. In Hopkins’ new world, it is advisable to try both.”
–Brandon Taylor, 2012
‘The elements in Hopkins’ work seem to come from strikingly different, even contradictory, traditions, as if he is seeking to cover extremes of expressive language, rather than occupy a unified middle ground. The juxtaposition produces a peculiarly complementary effect, as though two implacable opposed artistic visions had collided in the same work. The result is an increase in intensity so great that the contents of the painting seem to pass through a tangible ordeal, a sort of visual pain barrier, which strips them of lyrical compromise, and aesthetic consolation and delivers, in the place of these lesser pleasures, the unmistakable rewards of serious poetry.”
–David Sweet, 1996