Nothing of him but doth changeInto something rich and strange.-Shakespeare, The TempestCAROLINE BOOOPS SARDINE WAS, as she says, one uv the very few children uv European-Creole blud 'born and bred' in St Vincent and the Grenadines [population 100,000] - BLACK was di culah uv my x-istance.1 Thirty-two years later, booops still lives in her parents' house on the outskirts of Kingstown, a stone's throw from the nearby coffee plantation house, Grand View, now a small hotel run by her parents. The family home on its small hill overlooking the bay she describes as a tabernacle, with its connotations of enclosure, protection and consecration. Its sacred contents are things old, all things weathered, all things broken.2This description is the key to Caroline's transformation into booops, an artist with a remarkable vision; a lower-case persona whose thoughts in Sycorax video-style nation language are graffiti-ed across large canvases and inscribed on assemblages. The house she grew up in is itself an assemblage of old things, a family history told in piles of accumulated clutter, juxtaposed with natural incursions in the shape of birds' nests or creepers. The views framed by the windows - of exclusive Young Island and Dove Island with its giant white cross marking a rich man's grave - are a feature of her imagery. I first saw her work when, wandering into Grand View for a drink, I found myself in the bar confronted by a six-foot-high naked woman bleeding from the vagina. I hadn't met booops then, and could not imagine how these uncompromising canvases had come to rest in the tranquil surroundings of a boutique hotel. I was shocked and puzzled by the violence done to dismembered or wounded female bodies with graffiti-like slogans scrawled across them (Figures I, 2). The disturbingly personal iconography of the paintings gestured towards something autobiographical, some painful experience which had driven the artist to represent it over and over again. What, for example, could explain the preoccupation with blood in the paintings - red tears seeping from eyes as well as menstrual blood gushing from the vagina, red footprints, bloodied hands? (See Figure 3.) At the same time the paintings were large, bold of line and vibrantly colourful, not austere at all. I sensed conflicted experience and a complex vision, and was driven to find out more.Since then, I have seen booops's work in many contexts - in her small studio in a converted garage; in galleries in Barbados and Jamaica; in the little craft shop she ran for a while and on the walls of offices in Kingstown, as well as those of private collectors in Barbados where she first went to study art. It takes the form of paintings, embroidered hangings, collage and box-like assemblages of found objects and cheap, throwaway materials like hardboard, plastic and metal bottle caps. When you see a booops piece you know it's hers not only because of obsessively recurring themes of violence and abuse, with their attendant motifs of dismembered body parts (hearts, overgrown feet, watchful eyes, blood), but by its combination of naivety of line, bold colour and distinctive iconography which demands to be decoded. For example, the small house on a small island surrounded by sea, the sheltering roof under a sunburst sun, the cross on a hill seen from a window (Figures 6, 7), are icons of safety and refuge which can also take the form of a box, a reliquary or a shrine enclosing precious personal totems. But the childlike sun beaming on a place of innocence belies the rupture which is the subject of the work. The sheltering space is also a kumbla, an ambivalent image of protection perpetually under threat.What happened to booops to bring about such a disturbing vision of a small-island society? The first and most obvious rupture was leaving home to study fine art at Barbados Community College in 1996; then at the Edna Manley College of the Visual and Performing Arts in Jamaica where she gained a diploma in painting in 1998; and finally leaving for London to gain an MA in painting at the Royal Academy of Art in 2000. …
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