Mike Silva’s paintings are steeped in melancholy. Painted in oil, the defining motif of his latest exhibition is windows, each with the London light pouring through them. In Owen’s room, long swathes of orange curtain do little to keep the room dark, though the sky outside is gloomy. In Window sill with plant and camera, the dappled shadows of the foliage outside cast shadows over the ledge on which sit a mug (the tea or coffee drained), a succulent and an SLR camera. The last object provides a clue to Silva’s source material: a huge photographic archive of old homes and former lovers, which the artist keeps haphazardly stored in boxes and uses for inspiration.
