Bridget Riley's psychedelic shack

Feb 19 2010 By Lorne Jackson

The artist’s style would later evolve from black and white to colour. Then the paintings became like lava lamps, or psychedelic movies made by acid-dropping directors.

Even though her work easily fitted into the pop culture of the era, Bridget kept her distance.

“I’ve always shied away from celebrity,” she says. “I much prefer to stand back from what I do, so that people can see the work, not the person.”

She wasn’t impressed by the psychedelic movement. “It seemed less creative than other things that were going on. Rather obvious in its intentions.”

One of the most interesting inclusions in the retrospective is a selection of Bridget’s sketches and studies for her paintings.

I was surprised to see graph paper with crisscross lines, etched with coloured pens. Even more curious are the diagrams she created using coloured strips of paper, which can slide along, or be otherwise rearranged, to aid the artist in devising a new work.

Wouldn’t it be easier to plan her work on a computer?

Riley shakes her head vigorously. Again, the modcon mummy shows herself to be wary of the treats of our technological age.

“The human mind interests me more than the workings inside a computer,” she says. “I love the work. It’s not a chore for me. Working quicker on a computer wouldn’t be a saving, it would be a loss. Working as I do allows me to learn more things about myself and the art.”

Some critics would counter that there is nothing to learn in a Bridget Riley painting. She merely produces pretty patterns – shimmering surfaces signifying nothing.

The novelist Will Self has bought some of her work and it hangs in his home. But in a newspaper article a couple of years ago he was dismissive of any pretensions to label Riley a fine artist.

Self said she was a decorative artist, like William Morris. A skilled artisan.

Morris, of course, produced beautiful, hand-crafted wallpaper.

So is this all Riley amounts to? Perhaps she didn’t break down any wall with her work; just papered over the cracks with pretty patterns.

No doubt the debate about her significance will continue. But what ever your opinion on its significance, once thing is certain. It is most definitely striking.

While watching her work being hung, I overheard one voice exclaiming of a colourful, stripey picture, “It’s like being attacked by a giant deck-chair!”

Riley, herself, is more serious about her intent.

“What I’m doing isn’t really like sculpture,” she says. “With sculpture you are chipping away at something, until the vision is revealed. What I’m doing is more like building something up. With my work, I believe the thing is in there, if I can just find a way of unlocking it. That’s the journey for me, and I’m always surprised by what I find.”

* Bridget Riley: Flashback is showing at the Waterhall Gallery of Modern Art, Birmingham until 23 May. Admission is free.