There are many things that teenage boys do in the seclusion
of their bedrooms. Some you may know about, and no doubt don’t
want to be reminded of. Others may be less familiar. One of
their well-practiced arts rarely granted the approving sanction
of mentors and anthropologists is that of pencil shading. Just
to be discriminating this isn’t just any kind of free
form, expressionist nautiness with a pencil. No the teenage
boy is the samurai of shading. For the practitioner of this
noble art, the overlapping layers of different grades of pencil,
intermeshing and interweaving are a patchwork of infinite beauty.
They possess a logic and structure immune to the discriminating
palette of tutors. They are the culmination of strenuous afternoons
obsessively rubbing the point of their lead pencils into smooth
domes. The choice of imagery is often secondary; it could be
a deadpan self-portrait in a tracksuit, German troops storming
Stalingrad or simply a car. What matters is the thrill of repetitive
action leading ever onwards to a satisfactory slice of realism.
Kirsty Whiten is not a teenage boy. But she freely admits she
could be one. While for many of us the hormone hell of adolescence
remains forever blurry, yet naggingly painful, whiten has managed
to keep in touch with this lost world.
Somehow she has managed to transcendentally inhabit the pimpled
skin of the universal teenage boy.Firstly this has allowed her
to discover the mysterious, secret arts of shading. Her drawings
are virtuosi in their utilization of this neglected art. Whether
it’s in her rendering of the creases on the hot pants
of typically gawky, greasy haired girl, or her fidelity and
detail in capturing the surface of a lizard, Whiten’s
work enjoyably demonstrates that when it comes to wielding lead,
she’s more than capable of pummeling any rivals.
Secondly, and most importantly her perverse projection into
the hot house hell of horny, yet painfully sensitive adolescence
has put her in touch with a sensibility and perception perhaps
as lost and forgotten to the mature adult as the joys of shading.
In Whitens pictures the intense, acute awareness of the teenage
returns, but this time refracted through the adult lens. Just
as the developing consciousness of the teenager constantly finds
itself shocked and terrorized by the inexplicable horrors of
everyday life, so Whiten’s work is riddled with images
of distorted, often grotesque visions of human matter.Never
get out of the bedroom.