Weiler paintings grab you by the collar and tug you in, not just sit on a wall. Tension created by swirls of color crashes into one another and seems quite alive. One can not overlook the texture. From the canvas, thick layers of paint create shadows under the proper illumination. The weight of the brush dragging through wet paint nearly feels like it’s leaving creative struggle scars. Read the full story
Like the artist works out some inner battle right in front of you, each stroke seems deliberate but chaotic. Soft pastels produce an uncomfortable equilibrium by dissolving into strong reds and Blacks. Though not the safe type, there is beauty. It is raw and somewhat aggressive. The way colors ooze into one another begs the issue of whether art or emotion splashed straight into the canvas is what it is. Possibly both.
You stand before a Weiler piece and your eyes never stop. Following the stroke rhythm, they fly from one corner to the next. Some places feel aggressive—short, harsh lines cutting across softer tones. Others are more erratic, as the paint was let to discover its own route. The work appeals so much because of this conflict between control and release. You are feeling it, not merely seeing it.
Experience includes flaws in all things. A smudge with a brush slip-off. a rough edge exhibiting unequal paint drying times. These “flaws” give the work soul, not less value. You sense the artist behind the canvas, the decisions taken, the uncertainty, the dedication. It is not polished; that is what gives it human appeal.
Unquestionably, a Weiler painting has emotional energy. One moment it seems like anarchy—colours running wild. Then a quiet stretch of subdued tones offers a resting place without notice. The artist seems to be directly speaking to you without words. And depending on the day, the light, your attitude, the message alters. You return to it therefore constantly. Two times never exactly the same.
Understanding it has no road map. Certain paintings tell you a story; Weiler paintings challenge you to find it on your own. It’s about reaction not about meaning. That quickening of your pulse upon witnessing an unexpected blue flash across a sea of red? That quiet when your eyes fall on an island of white midway through the storm. Personal here. And for that reason it stays with you.