James White

James White’s paintings inhabit a space between cinema and forensics, where the everyday object is reconfigured as a fragment of evidence. A drinking glass, a door handle, a folded towel—rendered with meticulous precision—are presented not as neutral things but as mute witnesses to events withheld from view. Their isolation recalls the forensic photograph, where the object is extracted from its context and preserved as a possible key to an absent narrative. At the same time, White’s framing borrows from the cinematic cutaway: those interstitial shots that linger on a detail, suspending narrative action while intensifying the tension of what remains unseen. In both registers, the object acquires an unstable significance, poised between the banal and the ominous.

The choice to work exclusively in black and white accentuates this ambiguity. Without the distraction of color, the paintings operate within the tonal economy of both surveillance imagery and classic film noir. Shadows fall with heightened drama, surfaces gleam with the uncanny sharpness of photographic stills. This chromatic restraint is not merely aesthetic but conceptual: black and white positions the image in a zone of uncertainty, evoking both the documentary truth-claims of forensic photography and the stylised artifice of cinema. The result is an oscillation between testimony and fiction, in which objects seem to offer evidence yet resist definitive interpretation.

Presentation is equally crucial. Housed within Perspex box frames that resemble vitrines, the works are displayed as though specimens or artefacts. This mode of framing distances the object from lived experience, suspending it in a sealed environment where the viewer encounters it as evidence awaiting scrutiny. The vitrine-like enclosure enacts both preservation and alienation, encouraging a forensic mode of looking while underscoring the impossibility of accessing the event itself.

Through these strategies, White constructs an atmosphere of speculative narrative where the object becomes both a cipher and a witness. His paintings refuse closure, instead amplifying the tension between intimacy and estrangement, banality and suspicion. By invoking the forensic archive and the cinematic cutaway, White positions the viewer in a liminal role: at once detective, spectator, and voyeur, compelled to imagine a story that remains perpetually beyond reach.