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The curatorial and editorial project for systems, non-objective and reductive artists working in the UK

Inverse  |   Coleman Projects  |  February 21 - March 22, 2026


Katrina Blannin


A review by Laurence Noga


©Copyright Patrick Morrissey and Clive Hancock  All rights reserved.

In her current show ‘Inverse’ at Coleman Projects, Katrina Blannin constructs a highly experimental set of relationships between her recent monotypes, paintings and animation. Letting the geometry and movement develop unexpected material clashes, she allows scale and proportion to generate her stylish compositions. 


Blannin positions her works in pairs or groups. Everything feels precisely defined, using optically chromatic juxtapositions to create movement in space. Tonal variation often brings new perspectives, building a crescendo of harmony and disharmony, not only through her flawless technique, but the way it is questioned through the glitches or mis-registration in the hand-made prints, often registering as a sense of imperfection.

A recent monotype, Domenica #26 (above), is developed through a sophisticated grid structure, comprising nine sections that are spatially taut. This is achieved through the layering and ingredients of disruption that underpin Blannin’s systematic approach. The variation in the structural elements build an inherent complexity through the scale and ratio, with each section offset by a creamy white ground. Blannin uses a clover shape or quatrefoil form, repeating the pattern within each frame. This allows the Gothic style and flatness (reminiscent of 1950s lampshade green) to create a tension between a sense of place and a pre-determined set of conditions. She superimposes a second layer (a reverse double arch), drawing us in magnetically, recalling the stones and shape of gothic forms but with more of a 60s aesthetic. Blannin inverts this shape within each rectangle to alter the different scales of space and motion across the print.

Domenica #26 (2025), 9x30cm, monotype: ink: Fabriano Rosaspina Ivoire

Mockette #29 (2026), 55cm x 55cm, acrylic on linen


At first glance Mockette #29 blows up a part of the section from the print beside it. But there are some important elements here that we can’t ignore: the proportions and the system of proportions. Blannin gets us thinking about each of the works’ spatial depth, and the positioning of space and colour within them, suggesting a more logical structure and chromatic harmony within the painting. The lightened shade of Phalo Green and the sharpened tone of Mars Black keep us linked (in our mind’s eye) to the scale and ratio in both works, in terms of the amount of surface area exposed in the compositions. I am intrigued by the hard-edged mechanistic approach within the painting and the softer hand-made quality of the print; for example, the difference between the linen support and the opposing sensibility of the Fabriano paper. That feeling for surface texture is important, as is Blannin’s understanding of the magic and deception of colour that builds these inter-relationships, particularly in the way colour allows spatial depth through the specificity of tonal value, and calls to mind Verena Loewensberg’s colour field and hard-edged minimalism in her untitled works of the late 1950s.


Mockette #1 (2025-6): framed/inlaid resin, 35cm x 35cm, monotype: ink: Fabriano Rosaspina Ivoire

Mockette #1 alters our perception through a number of points within the composition. A clever scaffold of tonal jumps in the different use of blacks develops illusory elements, like a combination of rhythms and harmonies. Nine smaller-scale circles seem initially to float towards the viewer. But the relationship with the six slightly larger circles (seemingly behind) develops a spatial puzzle in which the crossovers of tone operate dazzlingly. Blannin sometimes uses a halo around certain elements, calling to mind a partial eclipse, bringing a softer atmosphere to the reading of the work. This effect adds a further sense of depth and warmth to the print, noticeably offset by the difference in the curve at the bottom corner of the print.


Mockette #26 (2026), 70cm x 70cm, acrylic on linen

Simplifying the compositional elements focuses our attention in Mockette #26.This work supports the rest of the exhibition, humming through a grid of repeated geometric forms with what feels like a low-frequency sound range. Blannin cites Max Bill as an influence, and a work such as Variation 12 (1938) calls to mind the floating or opticality of the spot; the repetition and turning of each shape develops a sense of frequency. Getting in a little closer, the smaller circles or spots drop just inside each outer radius, like planets orbiting a black hole. Blannin talks about ‘contrary positions’ in her works. This idea elevates a counter-perspective in the sensation of an opposite directional pull. The acoustic hollows of the spots move in waves across the canvas, increasing or decreasing in motion.


Mockette #27 (2026), 55cm x 55cm, acrylic on linen

Mockette #28 (2026), 55cm x 55cm, acrylic on linen

Two paired paintings (Mockette #27 and #28) invoke a sense of unease that Blannin develops between the works. Initially, the paintings have a kind of stillness, but as you start to register what is concealed or disrupted, a more animated appearance is suggested. I am reminded of the early Pac-Man game from 1980 (released in Japan in 1979) where the player controls the shape that eats all the dots. I like the way the original title, ‘Paku-paku taberu’, is inspired by a Japanese phrase about gobbling food. The Naples Yellow and black combination feels flatter, much more frontal, and both works read a bit like a domino piece, while the circles in Mockette #28 morph in shape into something more architecturally tectonic. Sophie Taeuber Arp’s organising principles feel quietly influential here; for example, her Composition with Circles, Squares and Rectangles (1933). Blannin directs the viewer’s gaze across the varying distances. Glancing between the two works, we are anchored back to the dot motif. But it is how the balance of the colour is skewed, as Blannin describes, that sharpens the conversation between these works. 


Mockette #1, 2026, animation Kevin Rowe(kevinrowepaintings.com), music Pete Wilson (petewilsonlizard@gmail.com)

Mockette #25:abcd, 2025, 4x30cm, monotype: ink/Fabriano Rosaspina Ivoire

Mockette #1, an animation directed by Kevin Rowe (music by Pete Wilson) lets the shapes float, like cut-out or dislocated forms, building a slippage between the rupture of the image and the range of options animated through the colour choices.


Perhaps taking as its cue the composition and layering decisions in Mockette #25 abcd. The pointer dots ebb and flow, overlapping and receding, bringing a flavour of the jazz scene in the 1960s and ’70s. Blannin talks about her influences, including Verena Loewensberg, and her approach to a grid system combined with a rational organising principle, which allows her painting to grow not only from a concrete perspective, but also from the background of jazz influences and record collecting in the discount record shops of Zurich. Somehow, the animation operates like a secret message as the scale and structure converges. Flashes of colour such as light violet, ultramarine blue, or light green break into the monochrome palette, altering our perception between the overlaid structural components and Blannin’s code, which we can’t quite break.


Laurence Noga 2026