WINTERCOAT sees the artist known as Ed Bats bring together his gallery and graffiti practices, with the artist painting directly onto the walls of the gallery. Individual paintings seem to provide small clues as to the artist’s identity – like breadcrumbs scattered throughout the exhibition. It’s something of a game really, for the most part. Yet the artist acknowledges there is comfort and protection in this additional layer; in the consciously constructed stopgap between themselves, the work, and its reception. Bats seems constantly on the verge of giving up the game entirely, throwing up his hands to reveal himself. But Bats’ paintings lean so heavily toward formalism that biography seems all but redundant. While as an artist Bats might choose to work semi-anonymously there are very few secrets in these paintings. There are moments or gestures where one might suspect specific reference points: perhaps a subtle homage to Ralph Hotere’s window works; echoes of Don Driver’s use of colour, collage, and assemblage; or Richard Diebenkorn’s amalgam of aerial views and multiple angles. What you see is, mostly, what you get: a piece of fabric pulled tight across a stretcher, upon which paint has been carefully and dutifully applied.
