INTERVIEW—

HE PAINTS WITH FLOWERS
In conversation with Dan Kyle
By Rosie Dalton


There is an autobiographical quality to the way that Dan Kyle paints. Walking into his studio feels like walking into his innermost mind—perhaps also because the studio sits at the back of the property that he and his partner Andy share in The Blue Mountains.

Wildflowers abound, alongside flowers that Dan has planted and tends to with as much love as he tends to his paintings. And, in many ways, this flora forms part of his artistic process, too. They exist on the canvas and have been displayed as an installation at his latest show, No Mud, No Lotus at Martin Browne Contemporary in Sydney.

Having painted with the flowers themselves for many years now, Dan’s landscape works are living, breathing records of Mother Nature. Just as they are living, breathing records of his own internal landscape.

‘I don’t have anything else to say about these works except that they are about every single day of my life,’ Dan shares. ‘They are about everything and nothing at the same time.’ Here, the artist offers us rare insight into the intuitive world behind his works. 


Rosie Dalton: Can you tell us about how you first discovered art?
Dan Kyle: My uncle is a fairly well-known sculptor and, when I was growing up, he was studying in England and flying back for Christmas—he was a big inspiration for me. My Nan and Pop also had an art store for a while. And I went to an all-boys catholic school, where the art room was a really special place of escapism. Teachers can transform your lives and I really loved my art teacher. She actually suggested that I apply for this HSC course at National Art School. I got in and then went on to study there after school. And she taught my uncle—everything comes full circle.

It’s like a lemniscate, or infinity symbol, which you have been experimenting with of late. 
Woah!

When things are aligned and flow effortlessly, I find there is a certain degree of magic involved. 
My previous show was all about that actually. It was called The Path of Least Resistance and it was about water, because water always finds the path of least resistance. And if you push too hard against it, that probably means it is not the right path for you. People can spend their whole lives pushing against, but if you allow intuition to flow through you, that is as authentic as you can get. I am constantly trying to block out self and the rest of the world influencing the paintings, because making work intuitively is the only way you can do it.

How do you block that out?
It is so hard. But I constantly have to tell myself ‘don’t paint over it.’ The rest of the world makes you feel like you can’t just paint a picture—especially an abstraction—it has to mean something, it has to be thick. Reading things, like a lot of Plum Village and Zen Buddhism stuff makes it thick, but I don’t share that with anyone really.

I always find that so interesting, the interplay between an artist’s process and what they choose to share with the world. 
I was going to write an essay for my most recent show No Mud, No Lotus but the ideas are so strong and so subtle at the same time that to give it to someone on a platter just seemed wrong. Because art is always supposed to be about an interpretation about what that person is seeing. 

Yes and I suppose you can sometimes stand in the way of that interpretive process if you reveal exactly what it is about. But there is a fine balance between sharing what it means to you and allowing it to take on a different meaning for someone else.
Yes and I don’t really have anything else to say about these works except that they are about every single day of my life. They are about everything and nothing at the same time. The works are autobiographical, but they are also abstract in their visuality and in their thought. Because the meaning is abstract as well. 

Humans are ultimately abstract beings after all.
I am really inspired by Thich Nhat Hanh, who is the Zen Buddhist that founded Plum Village and his philosophy is all about mindfulness. He teaches the principle of “looking deeply” so that when you look into a flower, you don’t just see a flower, you see a cloud, or you see the rain. It is the most beautiful thing. His book No Mud, No Lotus has had such a big impact on my life and it was the inspiration for my latest show.

 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Where did you discover the book?
I have been going to the Mountain Spring Monastery in Bilpin for a few years now and it has had such a big impact on my life, going on mindfulness walks and just absorbing the monastic life. I discovered the book through their Plum Village library and it has become like a bible for me. 

Were you painting with the flowers before you read the book?
Yes, I have been painting with flowers for about five years now and that is purely geographical. I was painting with a really little flower for a long time. With Paper Daisies. You can see how they are covered with paint and some of them change in shape. But now I look at a flower and I see a cloud, storm, dirt.

It is so interesting that you were already “looking deeply” in your practice with flowers before you discovered No Mud, No Lotus. It’s like you called that book to you. 
I know! And I really believe that everything does happen for a reason.

Do you always paint with the same flowers?
I use all different flowers. It started out very subtle but it is less subtle now [laughs]. They are all so different, though, because they catch paint differently each time. This particular painting, for example, has crossed the seasons. November is dahlia season, so there are dahlias in there as well as camellias and paper daisies. All the flowers I use come from our property too, because this work is also about gardening. Like if I don’t get these dahlias in the ground this week or next week, I won’t have flowers to paint with. 

So beautiful! And what have you been working on most recently?
Well I don’t really work towards a particular show. I am always working on multiple paintings at the same time and it just sort of comes together. But it’s the symbolism work and the idea of impermanence that’s really exciting me right now. 

Have your latest works and the exploration of impermanence through symbols like the lemniscate stemmed from your mindfulness practice as well? 
Yes, well Plum Village’s greatest, most important teaching is that ‘everything is impermanent’. Which is really hard to grasp, because it means love is impermanent and your life is impermanent. It attacks your ego. You can’t have an ego and seriously believe in impermanence. 

Impermanence is relative, though. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a fleeting moment or be time-bound.
True. I think it also invites the freedom to make art for art’s sake too. When I was at art school, it was so much about making something beautiful. Visual beauty was at the front of everything. And now, as I get older, my work is becoming thicker in terms of concept, but without trying to find it. The concepts just come and they build. 

Like a garden in bloom!

 

fin.