years in the old studio
rule: leave room for accident
Some paintings are carefully planned. Others begin because I apparently cannot leave well enough alone. My practice is rooted in reuse, symbolism, texture, and the strange friction between traditional oil and rusted scraps picked up around old mining sites.
Barberton matters because the history is right underfoot. The mountains hold red earth, weathered brick, and discarded iron that carry their own memory before a brush ever touches them.
Gathering scraps of metal, shards of painted wood, and iron-rich earth that have already lived another life.
Allowing weather, oxidation, and accidental scratches to break down pristine surfaces before painting begins.
Working oil paint and mixed media over the scars, hiding and revealing symbols beneath heavy impasto.
Stepping back when the painting finally decides what it wants to be, long after the plan was abandoned.
Retha Olivier
Visits are by appointment, and questions are always welcome.