R
ainbow’s paintings are like
a visualization of how memory
functions; you might see a
painting in a gallery of a horse,
a bison, or a warrior — and
like anyone looking at art you
begin to imbue the image with
your personal impressions, the
emotions and events of which you
are reminded by the brushstrokes.
Touraine’s work, however, dares
you to take that phenomenon a
step further in when you suddenly
realize she’s begun the process for
you, sneaking hidden faces and
silhouettes into cloud formations;
or clumps of hair or grass; or the
billowed wing of an eagle. These
interpolated renderings are less
developed, more subliminal, and
yet distinctly recognizable. Once
you visually fit those implied
memories into the more obvious
picture, like a “Magic Eye”
puzzle, then you may take in the
painting with your own mind.
Does she have an agenda or is this
just how her brain works? The
answer is Yes.
Her broker, Spokane local Jay
Moynahan, tells me she would
paint extremely big and extremely
fast, “She’d go crashing into
it…” She worked ambidextrously,
painting with both hands at the
same time, as if she couldn’t
get the image out fast enough,
barely eating or sleeping for days.
She’d start at the top of a 4’x6’
Masonite board and work down,
layering images upon images
between swaths of glaze, giving
each life-sized piece a feeling of
looking through water, or space.
It wasn’t realism (though she
could do that), and it wasn’t quite
surrealism either (though she
did that too). You could compare
her to Salvador Dali, Georgia
O’Keefe, or even Frida if you
like, with a nod to a life being
a genuine stance. But Touraine
is independent, adaptable,
informable, and tends to focus
more on universal themes than
introspective ones.
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ART CHOWDER MAGAZINE