There is a graphic intensity to Josh Yeldham’s latest works that is
rarely – if ever – seen in contemporary art. This is the work of both
an obsessive artisan and a potent visionary. This is the stuff of dreams
made solid, carved impeccably, stroke by miniscule stroke, tethering
the smoky regions of memory and mind onto a solid surface.
Each of us will see out own dreams here. We will try and grapple with
why these images seem so immediately recognisable and then realise
we have never seen them before outside of somnambulistic flights of
fantasy. We will think of the iconography of Eastern mysticism only to
realise that this is a ruse – it may be an influence but these images are
very much Yeldham’s own.
For quite a time “mysticism” was a dirty word in contemporary
(postmodern) culture. It was the stuff of perhaps misguided 60s
pseudo revolution. But, world-wide, we see a re-emergence of
considerations of spirituality. We see it here in Australia in the
contemporary artworks of such artists as Tim Johnson and Peter
Daverington. And, with the threat of environmental meltdown, we
see a reconsideration of nature as a potent force.
Yeldham’s works have long been an exploration of his immediate
environment. He has an eagle-eye for detail. Each blade of swamp
grass is recorded in memory and transported back to the studio
where his sharp blade begins the task of transcribing the day’s
visions. But that is only the beginning. With what seems a strange
sense of urgency, Yeldham then begins the task of building up
a palimpsest of imagery, driven by the exotic musical notes that
conclude his “paintings”.
Of course they are not paintings per se. But nor are they sculptures
as we have come to know that term. Technically these works are truly
unique, beautiful hybrids of craft and vision. Technically they are
works by a youthful master.
(Ashley Crawford 2010)