Kate Gottgens South Africa, b. 1965
Summoned by the tides, 2025
oil on canvas
150 x 110 cm
59 x 43 1/4 in
59 x 43 1/4 in
In this painting, the figure stands with his back turned to the tide, as if being called by something. The work is an echo of a poem by Emily Dickenson:...
In this painting, the figure stands with his back turned to the tide, as if being called by something. The work is an echo of a poem by Emily Dickenson:
Each that we lose takes part of us;
A crescent still abides,
Which like the moon, some turbid night,
Is summoned by the tides.
There’s a quiet pull, a moment of hesitation, as if caught between staying and surrendering to the call of the water.
To the left, another character plays an instrument, dark and enigmatic, evoking the essence of a snake or a snake charmer. This figure holds an air of ambiguity—are they in control, or are they being lured by forces beyond their comprehension?
Two ethereal figures lie on the ground, seemingly weightless, yet their presence is undeniable. Their power lies in their very otherworldliness—a contradiction that runs throughout Kate’s work—women who define femininity on their own terms, embodying strength in ways that defy expectation.
The pool’s unnatural, almost eerie color heightens this off-kilter atmosphere. Its artificial, cool light disrupts the natural setting, creating an unsettling contrast. This sense of being "out of tune" is something Kate deliberately embraces in her paintings, especially when working with imagery from the past. Nostalgia has a seductive, almost dangerous allure—it can smooth over complexities, turning history into a sentimentalized, picture-perfect illusion, what Kate refers to as the "chocolate-box cliché." Her work subtly resists this by puncturing the perfect bubble, exposing its hidden underbelly. In earlier works, she did this through the use of shadows—hinting at the unseen tensions lurking beneath the surface of the image, the beauty’s darker counterpart.
* Expert from a letter to Frances & Louisa, late March 1884
Frances (1847-1896) and Louisa (1842-1919) Norcross, cousins
Frances and Louisa Norcross were Emily Dickinson’s first cousins, the daughters of Emily Norcross Dickinson’s favorite sister, Lavinia Norcross Norcross. They were born on August 4, 1847, and April 17, 1842, respectively. Fanny and Loo, as Emily affectionately called them, are considered to have been some of Dickinson’s closest friends. When the cousins were orphaned in 1863, Dickinson offered her home as a refuge:“What shall I tell these darlings except that my father and mother are half their father and mother, and my home is half theirs, whenever, and for as long as, they will. . .” (L278).
While the cousins never did live with their Dickinson relatives in Amherst—the two settled in Boston, their birthplace—Fanny and Loo were beloved guests of the Homestead and The Evergreens.
Each that we lose takes part of us;
A crescent still abides,
Which like the moon, some turbid night,
Is summoned by the tides.
There’s a quiet pull, a moment of hesitation, as if caught between staying and surrendering to the call of the water.
To the left, another character plays an instrument, dark and enigmatic, evoking the essence of a snake or a snake charmer. This figure holds an air of ambiguity—are they in control, or are they being lured by forces beyond their comprehension?
Two ethereal figures lie on the ground, seemingly weightless, yet their presence is undeniable. Their power lies in their very otherworldliness—a contradiction that runs throughout Kate’s work—women who define femininity on their own terms, embodying strength in ways that defy expectation.
The pool’s unnatural, almost eerie color heightens this off-kilter atmosphere. Its artificial, cool light disrupts the natural setting, creating an unsettling contrast. This sense of being "out of tune" is something Kate deliberately embraces in her paintings, especially when working with imagery from the past. Nostalgia has a seductive, almost dangerous allure—it can smooth over complexities, turning history into a sentimentalized, picture-perfect illusion, what Kate refers to as the "chocolate-box cliché." Her work subtly resists this by puncturing the perfect bubble, exposing its hidden underbelly. In earlier works, she did this through the use of shadows—hinting at the unseen tensions lurking beneath the surface of the image, the beauty’s darker counterpart.
* Expert from a letter to Frances & Louisa, late March 1884
Frances (1847-1896) and Louisa (1842-1919) Norcross, cousins
Frances and Louisa Norcross were Emily Dickinson’s first cousins, the daughters of Emily Norcross Dickinson’s favorite sister, Lavinia Norcross Norcross. They were born on August 4, 1847, and April 17, 1842, respectively. Fanny and Loo, as Emily affectionately called them, are considered to have been some of Dickinson’s closest friends. When the cousins were orphaned in 1863, Dickinson offered her home as a refuge:“What shall I tell these darlings except that my father and mother are half their father and mother, and my home is half theirs, whenever, and for as long as, they will. . .” (L278).
While the cousins never did live with their Dickinson relatives in Amherst—the two settled in Boston, their birthplace—Fanny and Loo were beloved guests of the Homestead and The Evergreens.