Garry Fabian Miller

Immense pools of colour layer the crisp white walls of the Ingleby Gallery. Filling their angular perimeters the intense hues move from bold, compact planes of primary colour into hazy fragmentation, as one shade bleeds into the next. Garry Fabian Miller’s prints embody the transcendental mystification of abstract expressionist painting but are equally contingent upon the real, historical world; a ringing protestation in support of manual, ‘camera-less’ photography within the digital age.

Outcomes of an investigation into the history of photographic processes, the works on display reflect influences from the medium’s pioneers in the 1830s to early 20th century artists. It is through this analysis of the techniques of past that Miller overcomes the recent extinction of ‘Cibachrome’ paper which his predecessors had relied upon. He produces light-sensitive images through a new method; ensuring the longevity of manual photography despite the increasing popularity of the automatic.

The prints subsequently occupy an evolutionary moment within the realms of science even though they are showcased within the artistic domain. Nevertheless, despite their rational, premeditated design the images are more aesthetically affiliated with painting. Distilled to pure colour it is not initially apparent that these prints are manifestations of the empirical world. Instead, they are more readily reconciled as projections of the imagination with the acerbic scars of light which frame each layer of colour mirroring the reverberations of the painter’s brush.

Summer, a vibrant print in which two striking squares of red and yellow perch on a bed of cerulean blue could almost be assimilated into Rothko’s oeuvre so painterly is its image. Its isolated placement within the gallery’s ground floor space encourages such identification; presenting it as a window for contemplation.

Upstairs the works benefit from a lyrical hanging. When viewing Late Winter, an icy white square clasped in its blue surroundings, the glossy warm contrast of Late Summer deliberately creeps into the periphery. Opposite Late Winter is Spring, a regurgitation of its seasonal adversary’s structure but emitting a warmer tone of blue than its frosty counterpart.

The windows which line the length of the upper space pour light onto the works and serve as a resonant, if somewhat coincidental reminder. The debut of ‘The Colours’ collection is an exhibit which sheds light on the evolving processes of manual photography which struggle heroically against digital art as much as the glossy, light sensitive paper it exhibits. Surrounded by penumbra of complicated scientific allusions the works run the risk of appearing as late Modernist trajectories if their process is ignored. This gambit has so far not impeded Miller, however, and the collection should be observed before it leaves the city to participate in a major survey of camera-less photography at the Victoria & Albert Museum in the new year.