Out for a walk yesterday and I was delighted to find that the Gott Woods have gone all Ian Miller. An artist and a wonderful one, Ian Miller’s art is unique, his own, it can be no one else’s. It is jumbled, and intricate, and fascinating, and visceral. And wonderful. And here the Gott Woods on the long edge and deep to the eyes of Tolly Maw have bent, and leant and scribbled themselves with life and horror. They have gone as I say, all Ian Miller.
Technically there are more proficient artists, many indeed but few so exciting, few whose art has a smell, a texture above the page or screen. Ian Miller’s unpredictable cities and wild, spiky wastes invite you in, a pinned madame, a glove puppet killer and this I copy in above by far one of his calmer pieces. I just love it, I just love that it demands a story of you, I adore the textures.
And with his site under update you’ll have to google image him – and you must. Because the Gott Woods have gone all Ian Miller and dangerous, nasty and wicked as they might be you’re grinning, or you will, like me who you can see if you look hard enough now. In the background somewhere, looking out.