| Benjamin Franklin’s paintings are undeniably seductive. Covered with a pristine coat of resin, their enamel-like surfaces gleam like freshly painted sports cars. Their vivid, candy-colored palette is equally crisp; its highly saturated colors have a cosmetic clarity, as appealing as freshly painted toenails. As objects, the paintings elicit a palpable desire, but within these jewel-like tableaus a different narrative unfolds in which seduction is stifled. James Benjamin Franklin’s exhibition “Ignoring the Signs” at Clementine Gallery features eight small paintings illuminating scenes of domestic life. |  |
Suffocating Desire – Cindy Stockton Moore
James Benjamin Franklin’s paintings are undeniably seductive. Covered with a pristine coat of resin, their enamel-like surfaces gleam like freshly painted sports cars. Their vivid, candy-colored palette is equally crisp; its highly saturated colors have a cosmetic clarity, as appealing as freshly painted toenails. As objects, the paintings elicit a palpable desire, but within these jewel-like tableaus a different narrative unfolds in which seduction is stifled.
James Benjamin Franklin’s exhibition “Ignoring the Signs” at Clementine Gallery features eight small paintings illuminating scenes of domestic life. Delicately painted, the work calls to mind Mughal miniatures with their intricate detail and meticulous brushwork. The romantic tales illustrated in 17th century Indian miniatures are supplanted with a more modern take on life and love in a number of Franklin’s paintings. His expressionless figures are disconnected even in the midst of sex—seemingly no more engaged with each other than with the furniture in the room. Together, they enact awkward moments of endurance, playing out domestic roles seemingly devoid of joy. The sterilized sexuality of these characters contrasts with the sensuality of the material; the resin literally glosses over the various estrangements. The push and pull of physicality and emotional remove is played out in paint.
Yet in the midst of passion’s decline, Franklin’s paintings are undeniably tender. The narratives are staged sparsely, making the details more poignant. A stray hair escapes the confines of clothing, a potted plant loses its leaves—these fleeting moments are lovingly memorialized. A mysterious patch of hair on a man’s thigh, the red toenails of his lover— these are things noticed in an environment of neglect. James Benjamin Franklin illuminates these remembered moments with a care that makes them difficult to forget.
