‘In the ballpark’ is an English idiom, which means ‘approximately. If someone or something is in the ballpark, their ideas, actions, or estimates are about right, yet not exactly. This also applies to Gilliams’ work. While he seeks for a way to convey an atmosphere or feeling to the canvas, he reaches for a world that is elusive. One that merely exists in the imagination, which he attempts to make it tangible through painting.
At the same time, ‘a ballpark’ is a playing field. For Gilliams, the paintings are a place where he can be a child once again. Where color and form prevail, where a game is played using symbols and conventions. ‘This ‘ballpark’ is his contemporary equivalent of the ancient Arcadia.
It is the way of painting that determines everything. Because of the size of the work, painted gestures gain importance. They rhythmically dance across the canvas. Gilliams seeks tactility. The format invites the viewer to come closer, to investigate the different textures. As if you could almost go inside. The paintings are a mental refuge that herds the individual desires of the artist, but also those of the viewer.
The painterly gesture is further emphasized by Gilliams’ working method. He lets himself be guided by what happens. He cuts and recuts his canvases, and almost surgically reattaches them. Each stroke and each seam are determined by composition. In order to add more weight to the gesture, his canvases are stuck to the wall during painting, leaving behind the unmistakable remains of the studio and the physical work. They are traces that cannot be retouched and show the system behind a coincidence.
Gommaar Gilliams does not reinvent painting, but puts it in perspective. He looks for the moment of origin and reveals the loaded history of the painted image. He cuts it open as to expose the conditions of painting, just to literally sew them back together afterwards.