The Outsider

One of Nel’s earliest works exploring themes of emotional and physical withdrawal, Tea Time I clearly demonstrates the post-war influences of both hard-edge painting and the distorted figurative art of Francis Bacon. Wedged between two adjoining, almost stiflingly saturated, red panels, the central male subject appears somehow trapped – either in contemplation of an inaccessible past, or an unattainable future. The title of the work, as well as the teacup on which the composition pivots, seem to allude to a scheduled or routine social interaction, the outcomes of which appear futile when considering the central figure’s apparent detachment. The figurative component of the work was referenced from a small black and white candid snapshot taken by the artist, of her father. While the original photograph captured a rusk being dipped in a teacup, Nel substituted this for a submerged finger, either stirring or testing the temperature of the beverage. This action, while subtle, is strangely unsettling in its peculiarity, leaving one to question the possible psychological state of the subject. Tea Time I was awarded the New Signatures prize for painting in 1971.

Corner Seat III is the last in a series of three works completed between 1974 and 1976 that all share a common conceptual departure point, as well as subject matter, with the artist using her own image for the figurative component of all three compositions. The two earlier companion pieces are currently housed in the ABSA bank and University of the Free State collections. Corner Seat III was purchased in 1976 by Dora Scott, renowned collector and patron of the arts who, together with her husband Prof. Frederik (Frik) Scott, was instrumental in the establishment of the Oliewenhuis Art Museum in Bloemfontein in 1989, and the promotion of local artists on a national level.

It is important to note that, although all three works use Nel as the figurative subject matter, the content should not be considered self-portraiture. In this particular work, Nel juxtaposes the seated female figure with a potted houseplant – the two elements acting as tense compositional counterpoints to one another, while also being symbolically interchangeable. The avocado tree, unnaturally constricted by its domestic vessel, becomes a symbol for stunted emotional growth or the premature limitation on personal potential.

Originally entitled The ex-Mrs A., this study presents the viewer with the unsettling, almost confrontational presence of a solitary female figure. Rendered in a strangely threatening palette of sour purples and greens, her posture is stiff and angular, both illuminated and cast in shadow. The figure was modelled on a recently-divorced acquaintance living adjacent to Nel in an Arcadia apartment building in the early 1970s – a woman who, having been left by her husband for someone younger, was now navigating her unfamiliar social circumstances within the confines of a modest flat, her only share of the legal settlement. Her face is contorted, almost disfigured, by an incommunicable resentment. As with all of Nel’s work from this period, the distorted handling of facial features and limited planar depth evident in Mrs A. communicates a universal notion of personal loss, and should thus not be considered as traditional portraiture. The indistinct treatment of the figure’s eyes, in particular, leaves one unsure as to whether her gaze is directed at us or held in contemplation of her past. The title of the work, as with Mr S. (1973), further supports a sense of anonymity, casting these figures as representations of the Everyman.

The Recollection is the first of several paintings which Nel would later rework, post-completion, to extend their conceptual context and relevance. While this work was originally conceived as a T-shaped canvas, the upper portion thereof did not initially feature representational elements, but rather served as a compositional ‘void’ to signify the psychological withdrawal or decline of the female subject featured beneath. In 1990, the panel was revisited to include a tableau of references to Nel’s own past – a doll, a dog, a ball, a section of fencing typical of post-war South African suburbia. The impetus to include these references can be traced to a childhood incident that Nel considers to be pivotal in cultivating her on-going concern with the fragility of the human psyche. When visiting a family acquaintance at Weskoppies psychiatric hospital at the age of eight, Nel was briefly engaged by an elderly female patient who, suffering from dementia, mistook her for a figure from her past. The vestiges referenced in The recollection therefore serve as universal placeholders for both the loss of innocence as well as the relics of distant personal memory, the emotional gravitas of which can never be fully communicated to another.