Chronicles of Fear: Tales of Woe by Nathalie Tierce
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
This is probably my favorite painting from the book. Ask me again next week, and it will be something different, but for me this painting is so evocative of my childhood when I was first encountering monsters in books, movies, and art.
”When people look at my work, they often imagine that the angst that inspires it comes from my personal life. While I have my own set of neurosis and anxieties, I’m a generally optimistic person.
Paradoxically, it is also true to say, I am my work. However, much of the suffering that finds its way into my paintings comes by way of proxy. The alienation and longing that everyone is schlepping around is palpable to me. I see it in their eyes and hear it in their voices. My search to find the beautiful and poetic in this terrifying world is my own form of punk rebellion.” From the introduction of Chronicles of Fear
Okay, so now I have Green Day lyrics dancing around in my head. (What is punk anymore though? The other day I heard The Clash as muzak and thought Joe Strummer must be rolling around in his grave.) There are certainly punk elements to Nathalie Tierce’s artwork. Punk represents the angry, the disenfranchised, the resistance against being Borged into “normal” society. We may want to belong, but what do we do about this third eye by our nose or our fish lips or our potato head. Norms will smell the “different” on someone no matter what perfume they exude or what clothes they wear. Our very own thoughts and observations will always betray us, and if we resist speaking them, our silence will equally condemn us as…weird.
I first saw this painting when Tierce posted it to her FB account, and I was so struck by it that several days later I searched for it so I could ponder it again. I love the expression on his face and the red color palette.
When Tierce talks about seeing it and hearing it in the voices of others, she is talking about empathy. It seems to be in short supply these days. If we allow ourselves to be emphatic, then we might become emotionally involved in someone else’s pain. We don’t think we can spare the energy. After all, most of us are redlined with our own problems; some of them are first world anxieties, but for many of us, we are dealing with real issues. It just seems to me that we are creating a world we don’t want to live in. Social media is cratering us, politics is tearing us apart, and there is too much of a focus by the media and the fringes of political parties on our differences rather than the ninety-nine percent we have in common. We need to relax, take a breath, see people, even the weird ones, as people again.
I live in Kansas, and windstorms and tornadoes have been a part of my life since I was a spud. The Wizard of Oz was a perennial experience for me and not just on the telly. I can remember more than once being home alone when a terrible storm would sweep in off the plains. I would grab the dog (Spot) and all the pillows I could find, and we would wedge ourselves into the stairway. This painting is what I imagined the world to look like while I was hiding fearfully in the stairwell, hoping the structure of my home wasn’t about to engulf me or send me spinning away to Oz.
The thing I find most inspiring about Tierce’s art is that she sees beyond what we expect to see. By doing so, she forces us to pay attention. We have to weigh her art. We have to relax our minds, ponder the details, and enjoy the clever nuances she incorporates into all of her paintings.
The creatures and humans in her work all seem to ask, What do you see when you look at me? You may see your boss or a family member or an enemy in the eyes of her creations, and you may laugh or you might feel a shiver of uneasy recognition. Great art is supposed to evoke an emotional response, and I can’t imagine anyone who gazes upon Teirce’s work not feeling something disconcerting percolating across their nerve endings.
I would suggest that if you haven’t discovered Tierce before that you pick up all three of her modestly priced books. They make for a fine trilogy, and anytime you are feeling a bit blue or marginalized, there is no better antidote than to spend some time in the alternative universe of Tierce.
I want to thank Nathalie Tierce for sending me an advance reading copy in exchange for an honest review.
Jeffrey D. Keeten 
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