There are a handful of prints by Jack Coughlin that lie outside of the traditional portraits for which he is so well known. I label them as his “dream” prints (that’s my label, not Jack’s).
We have nine such prints in our collection. I am aware of at least five other prints of Jack’s that I would classify within this group of “dream” images. We also own several portrait prints where Jack uses this tool of entangled fantasy to fill the background with texture and detail.
I have always had an active dream/nightmare life. I describe most of my dreams as a jumble of ideas, images, events, and emotions akin to a collage. These elements are assembled in ways that seldom have specific meaning, yet the subconscious brings them together, merging like and unlike things into one artful display.
Like my nightmares, Jack’s “dream” prints are often confusing, haunting, and almost grotesque. Similar to the works of Salvador Dalí, Hieronymus Bosch, René Magritte, and Max Ernst, these prints require time and attention to unpack the individual visual elements. We, as viewers, then engage in the assembly of these visions in our own minds. It is work to do this; they are not easily read and are easily dismissed. These images are difficult, and yet, I find them far more interesting for their complexity. I try not to ask, “What does this mean?” or even presume answers to such a question. I try to just let the print be what it is. It’s a dream. It’s a nightmare. It exists without much rational narrative—laid down in two dimensions, in black and white, and unchanging.
- We do not always need to understand art to appreciate it.
- Art does not need to be representational.
- Art does not need to make people feel good.
- We can seek to accept the artist’s work instead of requiring assigned meaning for our acceptance.
I hope that as you view these pieces—even as digital scans—you might see and accept the vision that Jack Coughlin put down on paper with ink. It’s a way for us to learn, to grow, and to evolve.. -- Nathan Kramer, 2024
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