Depictions of the Empty Bed in Contemporary Art
We are delighted that Tracey Emin’s ‘My Bed’ (1998) sculpture is back on show at the Tate Modern in London, and here's why.
As of May 2015, Tracey Emin’s Turner Prize nominated ‘My Bed’ (1998) sculpture is back on show at the Tate Modern in London. Bought in 2014 for £2.5 million, the bed is now on a ten-year loan to the gallery. In honoUr of this, I decided to look at other depictions of the empty bed in contemporary art, and the way it is used to represent vulnerability and the artist’s ownership of their own insecurities.
‘Messiness and despair’: Tracey Emin’s My Bed back on display at Tate Britain. Photograph: Facundo Arrizabalaga/EPA via The Guardian
The bed is a frequent and poignant image, recognizable by all and incredibly personal to whomever sleeps in it. Most are born in a bed and most will die in a bed. It is a place for making love, and periods of illness are spent in its warm embrace. It is a sanctuary, and it can be a cage. Marcel Proust famously spent most of his life in one, sick and incessantly writing, neglecting all other aspects of his life.
Because of the strong emotions a bed can signify, it makes it an evocative subject for artworks.
The bed is a space of solace that we can if we choose, share with those we love. It is an incredibly intimate place and one which is unseen by all but a select few. It signifies regeneration, and is somewhere we go at our most vulnerable moments. We love in a bed and it is where we go when we are ill. Perfectly designed for the human body, beds differ very little throughout history and across continents. Any differences are mainly aesthetic, and there has been very little change to the fundamental elements of the bed since the first recorded use of one in Homer’s The Odyssey. The bed is a place we are most ourselves, we are vulnerable and unguarded, and where we are most human. Sleep is a thing that no human can do without, and the forced abstinence from sleep is a common form of torture.
The bed is a personified representation of the person who uses it, much like Yves Klein’s Anthropometries paintings, it is the human body is what creates the abstract shapes. The bed is a mold that records the movements of the night; all of a person’s dreams are represented in the folds of a blanket. For this reason, artists utilize the bed to show the unguarded subject at their most exposed.
Cai Yuan and Jian Jun Xi, on Tracey Emin’s Bed, 1999, Tate Gallery, London. via www.madforreal.org
In 1999, two Chinese artists, Yuan Cai and Jian Jun Xi, decided to climb into the bed, an act that breached not only the gallery rules of not touching artworks, but also the social norms of never entering another's bed without invitation. This artistic rape was an attempt to demystify the object, under the illusion that they weren't really doing anything wrong.
Emin's bed is an unmade and dirty double, complete with all the detritus of her life strewn about it. Filthy knickers, condoms, cigarette butts, vodka bottles, and dirty slippers surround it. The colour of the sheets exemplifies the weeks of grime that has built up, and nothing has been cleaned before she placed it in a gallery for all to see. This literally ‘lived in’ bed was Emin’s home for a few days during a bout of suicidal depression after a breakup, and one from which she thought she would never recover. Amongst this array of refuse is a stuffed seal. A solitary figure of hope and innocence amongst the chaos.
Untitled (Lesbian Bed #3) via tammyraecarland.com/lesbianbeds
In 2002, artist Tammy Rae Carland created the work ‘Lesbian Bed #3’, which was above-view photograph of an unmade bed. The bed is skinlike in hue, a fresh pink like that of blushing cheeks. Shadows dissect the bed, thrown from a window that is situated out of frame, above the head of the bed and to the top of the photograph.
One pillow is creased and appears used, whilst the most forefront and prominent pillow seems unused. The crease created by long periods of being folded is still clearly evident. This suggests that the couple to whom this bed belongs slept tightly interwoven, either sharing one pillow or one nestled cozily in the crook of an arm or the neck.
The main shadow thrown from the window takes the form of an inverted cross, conjuring up images of religious persecution towards homosexuals and playing with the suggestion that homosexuality is ‘against god’. The point at which the head would sit upon the cross is the least creased area on the entire bed, suggesting clarity of thought, which contradicts and nullifies this earlier point. The bed is unmade and quite literally ‘uncovered’ without quilt or blanket.
The smaller shadows that crisscross the surface resembles the bars of a tightly meshed cage, an idea that resonates with the feeling one has when repressing true emotion, something that many homosexuals still have to do today. The creases across the surface of the bed form the ‘greater than’ sign (>), and are chevrons that naturally bring the eyes towards the right of frame, leading us forwards, suggesting a progression of thought.
This photograph is beautiful in its loaded simplicity, it’s openness and honesty make us question homosexuality and how it is perceived. This work calls into focus the emotions of a socially ostracized and sometimes repressed individual, showing us that they are no different than the rest of the world’s population, and that they need to sleep in a bed like we all do. Shapes that hint at religion make us remember the turbulent past that homosexuals have experienced at the hands of religious ideology.
All of this has been cleverly hidden inside an inoffensive image, which makes it an accessible comment on sexuality. It works as a Trojan horse, accessing out subconscious and showing very plainly that homosexuals are nothing special, for this could be my bed or your bed or your parent’s bed. We are all the same and we have the same needs, to be loved, to sleep, and to sleep with whom we love.
‘au naturel’ (1994) by Sarah Lucas © The artist, courtesy Murderme and Sadie Coles HQ, London via designboom.com
In 1994 Sarah Lucas made Au Naturel, a sculpture utilizing decaying readymades to personify a Male and Female character from a sheet-less mattress.
The mattress is dirty and torn, and it looks well used. Bent at what would be the waist, the orangey tint and the folds created in the bending give it the appearance of a flabby unwell belly with many rolls. A bucket and two melons depict the female, whereas two oranges and a stiff cucumber represent the male. The bucket is comically large, and its size is greatly exaggerated in relation to the size of the cucumber, suggesting sexual failure and the inability for the woman to perform.
This artwork is at its core an artwork about gender, but more than that it is an artwork about sex and sexual inadequacy. The signified vagina is much too large for the penis, which is roughly in scale with the breasts, testicles, and stomach rolls in the personified mattress. The vagina is represented by an object that is used to carry water, and is dry. The barrenness of the bucket contrasts with a virile cucumber comprised of almost entirely 95% water.
The organic objects in this work will decompose with time, the liquid in the breasts will dry up, and the cucumber will wilt, having never spilled its seed. The way that the mattress is folded creates stomach rolls, which are more prominent on the 'female' side of the bed. This artwork speaks to us on an incredibly intimate level, and one of a sexual nature. It exposes how we make ourselves vulnerable in order to fully love another, and some of the possible worries people may have in doing so.
Rachel Whiteread Untitled (Air Bed II) via Tate.org.uk
In 1992, British Turner Prize winner Rachel Whiteread made the sculpture Untitled (Air Bed ll). Cast in polyurethane rubber, the surface resembles the skin of the recently deceased. This air bed is stood at a perpendicular angle to that at which it would be suitable for sleeping on, something that bizarrely suggests that it is being stored like this rather than let down. A temporary object made less temporary, both in this method of implied storage, and the fact that it has been cast and placed in a gallery. This method of placement inside the gallery also suggests that it is not a space for rest, but an object for contemplation. To invite someone to see our bed is a privilege. It is a space for deep contemplation, and a place where we dream.
To expose to the world your bed is a bold statement, you are exposing your very being. 'Laid bare' is the most apt description of these artworks, and the one that seems to sum them all up.
Emin's bed may not be pretty, but the act of exhibiting it is an incredibly beautiful thing, and the regeneration and solace that this bed signifies is an inspiration to us all. For the period that she spent in that bed was spliced with unrest, she contemplated suicide. The real beauty in this bed is that she beat this particular bout of depression, and her exposition of it was her way of purging her soul, it was a method of cleansing that she allowed the whole world to see.
By signifying this with such a recognisable and universal object, Emin makes the work instantly recognisable and easy for all to identify with.
She demystifies both the art object, and by association, the artist. This work is unpretentious in its representation of the artist, nothing is gilded and nothing is sugar coated. She is showing how the artist is the same as the rest of us, with her own fears and problems.
Were Emin's suicide to happen, the bed is the most likely location. In Britain the most common form of suicide in women is overdoses of medication or poisoning, both likely to occur in a bed. Emin’s bed signifies the strength of the human spirit, the suicidal feelings she was battling were beaten, and she refused to let them win. The bed is empty, and forever it will remain so.
The stuffed seal, and all it represents, has won.
Ai Weiwei at the Royal Academy of Arts
The Royal Academy of Arts has just opened its doors to Ai Weiwei's major exhibition in the UK - check out the preview photos by Nick JS Thompson
The Royal Academy of Arts has just opened its doors to Ai Weiwei's major exhibition in the UK, presenting some of his most notable works from the time he returned to China from the US in 1993, right up to present day.
Photos by Nick JS Thompson
Ai Weiwei – Creating Under Imminent Threat
Ai Weiwei at The Royal Academy of Arts
Saturday – Thursday 10am – 6pm
Friday 10am – 10pm
Main Galleries, Burlington House
Cindy Rizza – The Beauty of Nostalgia on Canvas
Has a painting ever been so realistically close to your memories, it reminded you of your own past?
When it comes to setting a mood, American based contemporary realist painter Cindy Rizza knows how to get your mind wandering. Evoking the feeling of nostalgia by depicting memories of her own, Cindy takes us back to the little moments in life she cherishes, as if we’ve experienced them ourselves.
The award-winning artist is known for playing with the power of collective memory and identification in a truly remarkable way. Arousing a human presence lingering throughout every canvas, she creates a certain intimacy between the (un)seen subject and the viewer, even if that painting portrays a door, a shadow of a house, or a clothesline of linen drying in the garden.
Fascinated by the influence a single object can have on the human brain, Cindy’s most recent work consists of nothing but chairs. A chair in the garden facing the sun, three on the terrace, one with a quilt draped over it. Besides the fact that these beautifully painted canvasses resemble photographs, when skimming past them it seems there is not a lot to glance at. However, when giving it a closer look and some thought, comfort and past memories overtake.
Even though our mind is set to treat everyday objects as ordinary, by treating those mundane things with carefulness and an open mind, Cindy provokes a surprising sense of otherworldliness as if there is a second layer to her paintings that lures us into a story we can all identify with.
Real Fear for Safe Experience
On the 30th anniversary of the death of Ana Mendieta, I decided to take a retroactive look at one of her most shocking and poignant works – People Looking At Blood (1973). A review by Benjamin Murphy.
On the 30th anniversary of the death of Ana Mendieta, I decided to take a retroactive look at one of her most shocking and poignant works – People Looking At Blood (1973).
Perhaps a precursor to the (now-waning) Shock Art phenomenon of the nineties, Mendieta is undoubtedly a cult hero, and an inspiration to many. Tragically, Mendieta died in September 1985, the aftermath of which echoes one of her most shocking works - People Looking At Blood.
Whilst at home in her thirty-fourth floor apartment with her artist-husband Carl Andre, an argument was heard by the neighbors and Ana ‘went out the window” (Andre’s description). Accident, suicide, or murder, this form of death is eerily similar to what appears to have happened in People Looking At Blood, an artwork she created twelve years before.
The work is, as its name would suggest, a series of photographs of unwitting members of the public walking past a pile of blood and innards on a New York City sidewalk. The people in the photographs do not know that they are part of an artwork, and they do not know that the blood is from an animal. The fear they experience is very real, and their reactions are honest.
Mendieta often worked with feminist themes in her work, and for that reason her use of blood can’t be ignored. Rape and murder scenes are things that she often recreated, heavy with blood and gore, and often using her own body. These works force themselves upon the viewer, often unsuspecting, in a bold and aggressive way often utilized by feminist artists.
(For simplicity from this point on I will use 'Subject' to describe the people depicted in the photographs, and 'Viewer' to describe the museumgoer viewing the photographs)
When looking at the photographs that make up the work People Looking At Blood, one cannot help but feel empathetic towards the subjects depicted in the images. Going about their daily lives they were unprepared to deal with such trauma. Who knows how such scenes will affect these people? Perhaps one of them witnessed a bloody murder and this will bring them back to that traumatic day. Whatever the subjects of these artworks felt at the time, we will perhaps never understand, the extent of which could quite literally be catastrophic.
People go out of their way to experience art in order to feel heightened emotions in a safe environment. Art that is shocking or promotes fear creates adrenaline that in the non-threatening environment of a gallery can be enjoyed without worry of actual threat. Theme parks are a popular attraction for much the same reason; people enjoy feeling fear when they are confident that they are not facing actual physical trauma. The people in these photographs however, aren’t looking at an artwork; rather they are forced to become a part of one. The photographs are then displayed in the safe gallery environment for a complicit viewer. Real fear is created in the people looking at the blood in order that their real reaction can be enjoyed by the viewer in the form of a safe experience.
People Looking At Blood goes one step further than just making the work exist in a real (non-depicted) way, as it forces people to become a part of the work. It brings the work out of the art setting entirely and places upon unsuspecting victims. When creating work in this way one is playing with real emptions and fears, and one must be very careful. When entering an art gallery one already has a set of intentional and unintentional ideas and preconceptions of what to expect, and therefore how to act. The viewer is a willing participant, and is on his guard.
Oscar Wilde expressed this notion perfectly in The Critic As Artist:
“..art does not hurt us. The tears that we shed at a play are a type of the exquisite sterile emotion that it is the function of art to awaken. We weep, but we are not wounded. We grieve, but our grief is not bitter.”
This artwork however, is somewhat different. The viewer has consented to view artwork, which is a decision refused the subjects. They are free to weep real tears, and their emotions will be anything but sterile.
Once art moves out of the gallery and is thrust upon the unsuspecting public (as in this work) the adrenaline cannot be enjoyed by the participant in the artwork in the same way. They are not in the safe gallery environment and are therefor facing (in their eyes) a very real threat. Real fear is created in these unwitting participants so that the gallery visitors, at the subject’s expense, can experience ‘safe fear’.
Another brilliant example of this, but in a more exaggerated and threatening way, is Chris Burden’s TV Hijack (1972). Created on a live television broadcast on which Burden was asked to create a live work, Burden held a knife to the presenter’s throat and threatened to kill her. The ethics of these are questionable, but the artworks wouldn’t be successful if this weren’t so. For these artists to create these works without the forced participation of uninformed people the works would not be as powerful or as challenging.
One can’t help but wonder; what did the people do immediately after the photographs were taken? Were they informed of the origin of the blood or the reason for its placement on the sidewalk?
This kind of work exists because people demand to be shocked in the most vicious way possible. What was deemed shocking 100 years ago is tame and tepid by today’s standards. Once the bar has been raised in terms of shock-value, anything that falls below it is then made less shocking by its comparison.
The horror of Goya has moved from the two-dimensional depicted world (i.e. painting) into the real, tangible world of Mendieta. Depictions of horror can never be as powerful as real and unexpected horror encountered in the real world. Although this blood was from an animal and was placed intentionally upon the sidewalk, the people photographed knew none of this. For them the horror was real. Mendieta successfully created real horror without having to commit a particularly horrific act. In this case, the carefully constructed instance of artificial horror, presented in this way, creates real and recognizable horror.
Artists when creating artworks are essentially intending to create a real emotion in the viewer with their work. Fear, Disgust, and Revulsion are relatively simple emotions to convey as there are many images and scenarios that when viewed will create such emotions with little effort from the artist. The Young British Artists utilized this technique to great effect and gained themselves many tabloid inches as a result. These works were successful in creating these intended emotions, but in a looser and more diluted way than achieved by Mendieta in the subjects of her photographs. People viewing these works are aware that they are viewing an artwork and not the real thing. These artworks are merely representations of horrific things, as opposed to actual horrific things, and for that reason cannot create pure emotions devoid of a level of understanding about the artwork that alters its effect.
Perhaps the most shocking and disturbing artwork to date is Zhu Yu’s ‘Eating People’ (2000), in which the artist is shown in a series of photographs cooking and eating a stillborn human foetus. The work is obviously and understandably shocking, but it lacks the delicate balance between the real and artificial present in much of Mendieta’s work. Eating People is a very extreme example of an artist deciding to create the most controversial work possible, with no other intended function other than to shock. And it is for this reason that the artwork fails to be interesting, or successful as a work of art.
This work also begs the question, ‘Where can we go now from here?’, as any artist that wants to take the ‘most shocking artwork’ mantle from Zhu is going to have to commit some pretty heinous crimes. Something expertly mocked in the satirical essay ‘On Murder Considered as one of the Fine Arts’ by Thomas De Quincey.
In her work, Mendieta hasn’t resorted to using real human blood; her artwork is more intelligent in its approach. She has managed to create real, honest and drastic emotion, without having to resort to using drastic measures. For this reason Mendieta’s work is most powerful in its subtlety.
Mendieta’s work is as important today as it was when she died thirty years ago, she aggressively forces us to view uncomfortable images, and her poignant message is delivered unapologetically. Today too many artists are simply looking to shock the viewer, and in this they are taking the easy way out, avoiding having the laborious task of creating works with meaning.
Ana Mendieta may have helped to pave the way for the shock artists of today, but it is doubtful that she would approve of some of their lazy tactics and essentially vapid works.
Works that exist only to shock are simply not enough, and will not prove to have the longevity that Mendieta’s work undoubtedly will.
A preview of Judy Chicago's Star Cunts & Other Attractions
The Riflemaker Gallery will play host to Judy Chicago once again with work both acquainted and un-introduced. Meet her Star Cunts & other attractions; a feminist-fired suite of her historic sculptures, paintings and archival pieces.
Image credit - Judy Chicago at work in her china-painting studio in 1974. Courtesy of Through the Flower Archives
By Suzanna Swanson - Johnston
From 14th September - 31st December 2015, the Riflemaker Gallery will play host to Judy Chicago once again with work both acquainted and un-introduced. Meet her Star Cunts & other attractions; a feminist-fired suite of her historic sculptures, paintings and archival pieces.
Artist, writer, educator, pioneer and artistic-punk-rocker, Judy Chicago created the feminist art movement; reacting to to social and political injustice during the revolutionary times of the 1960s and 1970s that she rose to prominence in. The history of art was the history of the white bourgeois man, till it was remoulded in the hands of Judy Chicago. Her art is dry-witted, dirty-talking, socially-pointed, intricate, fecund, frank, kick-ass-colourist abstraction. It dresses up in a history of representational feminine imagery in order to draw on the historical associations, and subvert them. Rifle-maker offers us a peep-show of the elements unseen.
In their exhibitive debut, on show are porcelain test plates which chronicle Chicago’s studies of china painting in preparation for the Dinner Party. In her key note work, Chicago created the symbolic history of women in Western civilisation and brought the diminished voices of 39 historical and mythological female figures to the table…literally. Using her distinctive multi-disciplinary-multi-media style, Chicago incorporated subject matter into the method by drawing on the traditionally feminine applied arts for the place settings. Along the 49ft triangular table sits embroidered runners, ceramic flatware, embroidered gold napkins, 2000 inscribed tiles and china plates with hand-painted vaginas; the studies for which are on show. Also featured are a series of steel dome sculptures and the eponymous Star Cunts - a set of prismacolour and pastels on paper - that lean towards her earlier minimalist style but still carry the prevailing feminist and feminine forms that characterise her work.
2015 marks quite the year for Chicago; she will simultaneously carry seven shows across Europe which stands as quite the testimony to her continuing influence, impact, relevance and status as ’America’s most important living artist’; this is one dinner party invitation I wouldn’t pass up.
‘Star Cunts & Other Attractions’ : Riflemaker Gallery, 79 Beak Street, London
14th September - 31st December 2015
All images courtesy Riflemaker Gallery
Overture: Idris Khan’s figurative translation of language
Idris Khan presents his upcoming solo exhibition Overture, revealing further interrogation of language through his practice.
London based artist Idris Khan exhibits in New York this September with some ambitious and exciting new work. Khan uses photography and digital images in his work but does not consider himself a photographer. He repeatedly layers these images, often text, to create a new piece, which is distanced from the original through the process of abstraction.
One of his more known work involved scanning every page of the Qur’an and layering the text into an image, bringing a figurative element to the writing while remaining almost readable.
Khan’s work reaches for a new perspective or a re-appropriation of an already existing visual cultural significance; he explores and interrogates language by working with text in this way. His work simultaneously addresses society’s shift on how photography as a medium is used. Khan has previously encountered the work of two German photographers and closely duplicated their photos, giving the new images new context and meaning. With the widespread use of smart phones as a photographic instrument documenting culture, the question of amateur/professional continues and images are easily available for hijack.
In his upcoming exhibition there is set to be a large-scale sculpture using panes of glass to overlap layers of text, casting an image onto the gallery wall. Khan will be exhibiting a wall drawing derived from what is cast by the glass, adding a performative element to an already complex multimedia body of work.
Overture Is opening at Sean Kelly Gallery, New York on 10 September 2015 running until 24 October 2015.
Idris Khan at Sean Kelly Gallery
‘Internet Recycling’: From Screen to Reality
Translating data into design, artists Rachel de Joode, Katja Novitskova, Julia Crabtree, and William Evans offer a new perspective on icons and images familiar to the majority in the developed and developing world alike.
Translating data into design, artists Rachel de Joode, Katja Novitskova, Julia Crabtree, and William Evans offer a new perspective on icons and images familiar to the majority in the developed and developing world alike.
It is only when taken out of context that one realises the mild absurdity of scroll bars, stock photos, and 2D web ‘pages’. First selecting images from the screen, rendering them tangible, and then exhibiting them as art objects, these four artists challenge viewers to question the ‘normality’ of things we have grown accustomed to seeing in their traditional two dimensions.
Hailing from Berlin, Dutch-born artist Rachel de Joode uniquely interprets online paraphernalia most notably in some of her earlier works, such as The Imaginary Order (2012); a performance piece exploring the border between the physical and the imaginary, the artist utilised a physical rendering of Google’s instantly recognisable search page through which a woman peered intensely, licking the page and contorting strangely at times in what seem to be efforts to push herself through it.
Illustrating the impenetrable divide between man’s often fictional online persona and his ‘true’ physical being, de Joode’s work can only have increased in relevance when considered in light of the rise of social media and the smart phone since the works conception, phenomena that has resulted in an unprecedented surge of people turning the camera upon themselves, projecting desirable ideas of their lifestyle and appearance for their online ‘followers’ to contemplate and envy via a plethora of platforms.
Using photographs to make sculptures (and vice versa) in her most recent work, de Joode has developed her study of dimensions, creating absurd and unusual objects that continue to blur the boundaries between 2 and 3D.
Featured as part of the playfully titled ‘#nostalgia’ group show, Katja Novitskova’s 2014 performance of text and image at CCA Glasgow (available to read and view on her website) is a wonderfully sharp satirical monologue based on a generic stock image representing ‘growth’.
With special focus on the jargon typically associated with business practises that involve technology and globalisation, Novitskova’s monologue highlights the vague and mildly Sisyphean aspects of the financial and technological modern world, distorting the image’s original intended meaning and purpose.
Ideas that the growth arrow signifies have recurred in her work since ‘#nostalgia’, notably in 2014 installation ‘Pattern of Activation’ – modelled out of semi-translucent polyurethane, Novitskova transforms the arrow into a tangible 3D object, juxtaposed alongside a startlingly ‘real looking’ image of an albino stallion, a digital print also originally sourced from the world wide web. Visually representing of the effects of man’s demographic and technological advancement on our planet’s ever-increasing extinction rate, ‘Pattern of Activation’ exemplifies Novitskova’s unique awareness and dexterity as an artist.
‘Antonio Bay’ is Julia Crabtree and William Evans’ most recent exhibition, the result of a continued examination by the artists on the relationship between the body and the screen. A product of their time as the Nina Stewart Artists-in-Residence in the SLG’s Outset Artists Flat, ‘Antonio Bay’ was shown at the South London Gallery in 2014, occupying the first floor with curious and immersive abstract shapes and textures.
Unlike Novitskova and de Joode, Crabtree and Evans’ work is not directly linked to the internet: in their attempts to investigate the imagery of our collective conscious, the artists focus instead on ‘the high artifice of B-movies’ and ‘the spatial logic of cartoon physics’, rendering their own interpretation of these things in physical form.
2D transformed into 3D, viewers were given the opportunity to contemplate previously flat ‘horizon lines’ sculpted into thick, undulating structures; in a mind-bending materialisation, an image of theatrical atmospheric smoke was flattened onto carpet, simultaneously indistinguishable and distinguishable, tangible and yet as impenetrable as it would be on screen.
Crabtree and Evans have worked collaboratively in an experiment in shared subjectivity over the past nine years; their most recent endeavour as part of group show ‘Back to the Things Themselves’ recently exhibited in new London artist-run space Assembly Point was a continuation in their exploration of the boundary between virtual and real spaces, involving the playful manipulation of interfaces, objects and imagery into placeless, immersive scenarios.
The human race is hurtling toward a dystopian and mechanised future at an alarming rate - as our reliance on screens and the internet increases, all aspects of life, including the way we communicate, look, and eat are changing at a rate incomparable to any other period in history.
With some of the world’s most significant and memorable art movements conceived in reaction toward rapidly changing social, mechanical, and political structures, one cannot help but wonder what lies in store for the art world – if the work of the aforementioned artists is anything to go by, then perhaps it is safe to say we have seen the future, and it works!
Julia Crabtree and William Evans
A Gentle Misinterpretation, curated by Andrew Nicholls
INTERVIEW: Andrew Nicholls delves deep into the ‘Chinoiserie’ culture in his curating of ‘A Gentle Misinterpretation’ which discusses the impact and influence of appropriated Asian cultures in art.
Andrew Nicholls’ latest collaborative project, entitled ‘A Gentle Misinterpretation’, brings together a group of Australian artists for two separate exhibitions at the Brighton Royal Pavilion inspired by the cultural effect and meaning behind the ‘Chinoiserie ‘ tradition from the 17th century, up until the 1920s in the Western world. The first residency took place in July and now, busy in preparations for the second residency taking place during August and plans for an exhibition in Perth next year, Andrew Nicholls answers my questions regarding the issues surrounding the ‘Chinoiserie’ culture.
How did your personal interest in a project revolving around the topic of ‘Chinoiserie’ begin to form?
This project has been in the making for 11 years, since I first visited the Royal Pavilion and fell in love with it. It’s my favourite building in the entire world, and I spent a decade waiting to find the right group of artists to take there. Last year I approached the Brighton Museum and Art Gallery with a request to undertake a group residency there, and thankfully they agreed.
However, my art practice has always been concerned by histories of decoration, and how they reflect their social context – the way that seemingly-innocuous aesthetic traditions actually grew out of quite nasty historical circumstances. British ceramics have been a major influence throughout my career – in fact, the first time I visited the Pavilion was when I was in the UK undertaking a residency at the Spode china factory in Stoke-on-Trent - and yet that entire industry was formed by appropriating techniques from Asia during the 18th century in quite an aggressive way, so the idea of cultural theft has been a major interest for a long time.
The Pavilion is the perfect symbol of all this, because it is so seductive. It is spectacular, and opulent and beautiful, and yet so many of the cultural references are so clumsy…and then at the same time it comes with all of the glamour of George IV who is remembered as one of England’s most self-indulgent, decadent, scandalous monarchs. So it is the ideal location to talk about the decadence of imperialism, and how this fed colonial expansion.
As a curator for this project, how did you go about finding or choosing appropriate artists for this residency? What qualities did you look for in the work of these artists?
I have a core group of artists I like to draw from in my freelance projects, all of whom enjoy taking inspiration from historical research, or in response to heritage sites. For this particular project I selected a number of artists from this group whose recent work has focused either on the relationship between Asia and 'the West', and the cultural and aesthetic legacies that this has inspired, or more broadly on tensions surrounding colonialism, nationalism and the crossing of national borders. The residency artists, Abdul Abdullah, Casey Ayres, Nathan Beard, David Collins, Thea Costantino, Travis Kelleher and Pilar Mata Dupont, have variously explored Eurasian identity, the experience of migrant communities in modern Australia, the marginalisation of minority groups within nationalism/colonialism, the plight of the refugee, and the legacy of colonial pillage.
Along with the eight residency artists, there are also four amazing senior Western Australian craft makers involved in the project, Sandra Black, Tanija and Graham Carr, and Marianne Penberthy, who will create works to complement the residency outcomes (in ceramics, leather and textiles, respectively). Each of these craft makers has drawn upon Asian tradition in one way or another in their works, and the objects they create will provide added opulence to the final exhibition. Given the George IV was such a significant patron of the arts, it feels appropriate to be commissioning new works by master craft-makers for this project.
You describe how ‘the sentimental’ is a ‘force driving mainstream culture’, which I find interesting. The concept of ‘Chinoiserie’ is almost the sentimentality of ‘Westerners’ between the 17th century and early 20th century for an ‘Asian’ aesthetic and culture. How do you feel this translates to artistry in our 21st century and why do you feel it is important to address this concept of ‘Chinoiserie’ now?
Chinoiserie was incredibly sentimental. It grew from an age when any international travel was difficult and dangerous, so the majority of designers, artists and writers who produced it had never been to Asia and probably had little desire to do so. Hence it was largely based on often-fanciful, second-hand accounts, and it often ended up being culturally insensitive or portraying Asian culture as primitive or brutal. But at the same time it was escapist, particularly for women who were largely tied to the domestic realm during that era. There is a lot of writing about the way that Chinoiserie provided escapism for women who would most likely never be able to travel the world themselves. From that sense it wasn’t ever really meant to be authentic in its portrayal of foreign cultures…not that that makes it alright!
In the 21st century I guess there’s a lot more movement between cultures, particularly in relation to materials and techniques, but I tend to be of the opinion that a lot of cultural content isn’t appropriate to reference. Non-Indigenous Australian artists are maybe more aware of this than most, because we sit alongside an incredibly rich legacy of Aboriginal art, that is absolutely not something we can appropriate or borrow from…but it will be a challenge with this project to walk that line between cultures.
One of the residency artists, Casey Ayres (who is of Chinese-Malay descent) compared the Pavilion to Disneyland, as he had expected the cultural references to be a little bit ‘off’, but wasn’t prepared for life-sized iridescent dragons and pillars in the form of palm trees. I think he felt there was an affinity there to his own cultural identity, but I’m not sure yet exactly what it was. He spent a lot of time filming himself in various parts of the building, so I’m excited to see what he comes up with over the next few months.
As well as being curator for this project, you yourself are a multi-disciplined artist who will exhibit work in this residency. The aesthetics of your work with paper and ceramics display an Asian influence most immediately to me, but I wonder how you feel the Asian culture or aesthetic influences your installation and photography - if at all?
In terms of my broader work, I think the Chinoiserie influence will be realized more in relation to decadence and luxury the movement represented, rather than a specific Asian influence. During the first residency in early July I filmed a model in the Pavilion who was meant to represent a sort of spectre of Regency decadence, mixed with a character from William Beckford’s Vathek, (an incredibly lurid Orientalist-Gothic novel set in a mythical version of Saudi Arabia). I’ve challenged a composer I work with, Ewan Jansen, to write some Regency-inspired music for it that somehow points to a kitschy ‘Orientalist’ influence. I’m not sure how that will work out, or if it’s even possible to make it clear that the cultural appropriation is ironic. Probably it’s not, and we’ll have to abandon the idea, but that failure in itself may trigger something interesting.
A Gentle Misinterpretation. Australian Artists and Chinoiserie - Opening in 2017
The von Bartha gallery hosts Bernhard Luginbühl and friends
The works of one of Switzerland’s best known sculptors, and a few of his fellow contemporaries are erected in all their glory at the von Bartha gallery.
The works of one of Switzerland’s best known sculptors, and a few of his fellow contemporaries are erected in all their glory at the von Bartha gallery.
If you live in Zürich, there’s probably no doubt that you’ve heard of Bernhard Luginbühl. And if you’ve walked down Mythenquai road you definitely would have seen De Grosse Giraffe (1969) – a great iron sculpture, with its magnificent curved beam looming over Zürich like a watchful sentry.
The sculptures of Bernhard Luginbühl (1929 – 2011) can be seen erected not only in Zürich, but in Hamburg and Muttenz too. He was an expert craftsman – who had a particular penchant for producing sculptures from scrap metal. Aside from Eduardo Chillida, he was one of the first to pioneer the iron sculpture from the 1950s, which is arguably what raised him to prominence in the art world.
A large portion of his earlier work no longer exists – due to Luginbühl destroying or burning some of them. This ‘creative arsony’ rekindled itself in his later work, from the mid 1970s, where he burned several of his wooden structures in ceremonious artistic fashion.
But of particular note were his fascinating collaborations with contemporaries Dieter Roth, Jean Tinguely and Aflred Hofkunst, who feature in this upcoming exhibition. Sculptures like HAUS (1979-94) are comprised of iron and wood, brushes and bone – showcasing his playful yet masterful ability to combine media into something to marvel at.
While some of the collaborative sculptures such as Schluckuck (1978 – 1979) look like condensed, complicated rube-goldberg machines, the exhibition displays some of his solo works too. Expect to witness his ink drawings as well as the fantastically mechanical, yet abstract Kleine Kulturkarrette II (1975) – which is more than just a colourful cabinet on wheels.
Bernhard Luginbühl and Friends will run from 4th September – 24th October 2015 and the preview will be on September 4 from 5-8pm.
Address:
von Bartha, Kannenfeldplatz 6,
4056, Basel, Switzerland
Opening Hours:
Tuesday to Friday 2-6pm, Saturday 11am – 4pm or by appointment.
Tetsumi Kudo at Hauser & Wirth London
A seminal figure in Tokyo’s Anti-Art movement in the late 1950’s, multidisciplinary artist Tetsumi Kudo (1935 – 1990) left behind a lasting legacy: this autumn, Hauser & Wirth London will host an exhibition of his works, marking 25 years since his passing.
A seminal figure in Tokyo’s Anti-Art movement in the late 1950’s, multidisciplinary artist Tetsumi Kudo (1935 – 1990) left behind a lasting legacy: this autumn, Hauser & Wirth London will host an exhibition of his works, marking 25 years since his passing.
The exhibition will present a selection of work dating from the first ten years that Kudo spent in Paris (1963 – 1972), following the completion of his studies at the Tokyo National University of Fine Arts in 1958.
Although marginalised in North America and Europe for many years, Kudo’s influence on subsequent generations of artists has been profound and far-reaching. The artist spent the majority of his career preoccupied with the impact of nuclear catastrophe and the excess of consumer society associated with the post-war economic boom, his interest in these topics intensified upon his exposure to the European intellectual scene.
Developed in the context of post-war Japan and France, Kudo’s practice, which encompasses sculpture, installation and performance-based work, is dominated by a sense of disillusionment with the modern world – its blind faith in progress, technological advancement, and humanist ideals.
Consisting of a die enlarged to over 3.5 square metres with a small circular door allowing the viewer to climb into the dark interior lit with UV light, ‘Garden of the Metamorphosis in the Space Capsule’ will form the exhibition’s focal point, shown alongside examples from his cube and dome series.
In his cube series, small boxes contain decaying cocoons and shells revealing half-living forms – often replica limbs, detached phalli or papier-mâché organs – that merge with man-made items. These sculptures were intended as a comment on the individualistic outlook and eager adoption of mass-production which he found to be prevalent in Europe.
Kudo’s dome works appear as futuristic terrariums: perspex spheres fed by circuit boards or batteries house artificial plant life, soil, and radioactive detritus. What is being cultivated in these mini eco-systems is a grotesque, decomposing fusion of the biological and mechanical, illustrating Kudo’s feeling that with the pollution of nature comes the decomposition of humanity.
The simultaneously political, yet highly aesthetic, characteristic of his sculptural work is at the centre of the contemporary oeuvre.
Tetsumi Kudo
Hauser & Wirth London, North Gallery
22 September – 21 November 2015
Opening: Monday 21 September, 6 – 8 pm
Tate Sensorium: Art for all the senses
Ever wondered what art might taste like? From the 26th August to 20th September, Tate Britain are giving you the opportunity to find out...
Richard Hamilton Interior II 1964. Purchased 1967 © The estate of Richard Hamilton
From 26 August to 20 September at Tate Britain, art is no longer just for the eyes; viewers are invited to experience sounds, smells, tastes, and physical forms inspired by selected artworks, and will also be given the opportunity to record and review their physiological responses through sophisticated measurement devices – all for free!
The Tate Sensorium is the brainchild of creative agency Flying Object, winners of this year’s prestigious IK Prize, awarded annually for an idea that uses innovative technology to enable the public to discover, explore and enjoy British art from the Tate collection in new ways.
The exhibition is set to feature four twentieth century British paintings from Tate’s collection of art. Flying Object and their team of collaborators have selected works by Richard Hamilton, John Latham, Francis Bacon and David Bomberg that play with abstraction in different ways, all of which can be appreciated sensually in terms of their subject matter, use of shape, form, colour, style and one’s own imagination.
With some of Flying Object’s collaborators including audio specialist Nick Ryan, master chocolatier Paul A Young, scent expert Odette Toilette, interactive theatre maker Annette Mees, and lighting designer Cis O’Boyle, the Tate Sensorium promises to be a uniquely immersive experience – definitely not one to be missed!
26 August – 20 September 2015
Tate Britain, gallery 34
All images © www.tate.org.uk/sensorium
#TateSensorium
Ai Weiwei – Creating Under Imminent Threat
Chinese artist Ai Weiwei is as well known for his art as for his activism. A steadfast critic of the Chinese government, Ai has been denied a passport for over four years and has been unable to leave or exhibit work in his native country.
Photograph by Harry Pearce Pentagram 2015
Chinese artist Ai Weiwei is as well known for his art as for his activism.
A steadfast critic of the Chinese government, Ai has been denied a passport for over four years and has been unable to leave or exhibit work in his native country.
Recently Weiwei posted a photograph online of him holding up his newly returned passport and announced that he has also been granted an extended six-month visa to visit the UK, which he will coordinate with his Royal Academy retrospective.
On the 19th of September 2015, The Royal Academy will host the first major retrospective of his work, showing works from his entire oeuvre. From the smashing of a Han Dynasty vase (which will appear in the show), to the poignant critique of the 2008 Sichuan earthquake that killed over 5,000 Chinese children, Weiwei’s work is bold, controversial and unforgiving.
All the works in this show have all been created since 1993, the date when Weiwei returned to his native China from America. This exhibition will show works that have never before been seen in this country, and many have been created specifically for this venue, Weiwei navigating the space digitally from China.
Often labeled as an activist or a political artist, this social conscience is what has influenced most of his works to date. Living under constant imminent threat from those with absolute authority, Weiwei’s work is created out of adversity and struggle. His oppressors are ones who are able to work above and therefore outside the law, and for that reason his struggle is a very real one. Despite this, Weiwei will not be defeated, and continues to critique the government and its actions towards the Citizens of his beloved China.
In a career spanning over three decades, his hand has also been turned to: activism, architecture, publishing, and curation, in a tour de force of creative activity. The artist worked alongside Herzog & de Meuron (the same company to design the Tate Modern in 1995) to design the 2008 Beijing National Olympic Stadium (commonly known as the Birdsnest). This project was born from a building Ai designed nine years before, when he needed a new studio, and decided to simply build it himself.
This confident disregard for convention is the attitude with which he approaches all of his work, and it has gained him many critics. The most notable of which being the Chinese government themselves, who have arrested him, seized his assets, terrified his wife and child, tracked him daily, tapped his phones, and rescinded his passport.
Perhaps most well known for his Sunflower Seeds artwork, in which he filled Tate Modern's Turbine Hall with 100 million porcelain sunflower seeds. Each seed was hand crafted and painted by hundreds of Chinese citizens from the city of Jingdezhen, in a process that took many years. Visitors to the show were overwhelmed to see the vast expanse of seeds, and were originally invited to walk and sit upon them, interacting with the work in a way in which we are rarely allowed to. (For safety reasons this was later disallowed)
The sunflower seeds appeared uniform but upon close inspection revealed themselves to be minutely unique, created using centuries-old techniques that have been passed down through generations.
In the Chinese culture sunflowers are extremely important, Chairman Mao would use the symbology of the sunflower to depict his leadership, himself being the sun, whilst those loyal to his cause were the sunflowers. In Weiwei’s opinion, sunflowers supported the whole revolution, both spiritually and materially. In this artwork, Weiwei supported an entire village for years, as well as creating something that promotes an interesting dialogue about the very culture that created it.
Weiwei’s work is about people, about the often nameless many who are oppressed or ignored. It is about justice for those who have been abandoned or neglected by those who are there to protect them, and it is most primarily about their basic human rights.
It is tragically ironic that those human rights that he has worked so tirelessly to protect for others are those denied him by his own government.
The Royal Academy has turned to Crowdfunding to help raise £100,000 to bring the centerpiece of the exhibition to Britain. Weiwei’s reconstituted Trees will sit in the exterior courtyard and be free to view for all. The campaign has just over a week left and still needs to raise just over 25% of its target.
Get involved here
The show will be on between
September 19th – December 13th 2015
Burlington House, Piccadilly, London W1J 0BD
All images courtesy of Royal Academy
We interview the CEO of FutureEverything Drew Hemment
A 20-year ‘art project’: Drew Hemment’s journey through digital art and innovation with FutureEverything leads him to Singapore.
A 20-year ‘art project’: Drew Hemment’s journey through digital art and innovation with FutureEverything leads him to Singapore
The FutureEverything festival began 20 years ago in Manchester as a hub for digital collaboration and innovation in the arts. This September, the festival lands in ‘the city of the future’, Singapore, ready to blow minds and challenge perceptions of digital art. FutureEverything CEO, Drew Hemment, discusses the implications of our ever-expanding digital culture surrounding the arts.
FutureEverything. Credit WeAreTape
How did you find your way into digital art and what led you to transition to focus more on curating it in a large festival setting?
I came across Internet art in the early 1990s, when I spoke at and helped organise the Virtual Futures conferences. Before that in the 1980s I got fascinated by networks when I was DJing and organising acid house parties. I set up the festival in 1995. I’d hung up the decks in ‘92 and in ‘95 I ditched the literary agent and book deal and threw myself into festival curation full time.
This was an incredibly creative moment but there was nowhere people could come together. I wanted there to be an event that was about new work and practice as well as ideas. In secret, the festival itself has always been an art project to me, or at least an arts enquiry.
It seems to me that digital art is a lot more accessible for members of the 21st century public than more traditional or current experimental art forms. What is it about digital art that makes it more accessible and do you think its accessibility promotes or encourages accessibility in other artistic mediums?
Accessibility is a good thing, but it can also be a ruse. Many digital artists working today consume and replay interaction forms and images that saturate our lives, through advertising, social media etc. So digital art can be instantly familiar and accessible, in the same way pop art was before it. Any sense of a single ‘thing’ called digital art is decisively over. I am mostly interested in art, and design, which asks questions about the underlying codes that makes changes, leaving the world and the audience different to how it found them.
How do you focus on encouraging digital art and culture that creates a ‘moment’ or ‘event’ in a digital world that allows for instant access to a variety of archived artistic material and ideas? In other words, how can one innovate artistically and digitally in a world that uses technology to access an infinite amount of ideas and artistic endeavours?
We can access everything instantly; it is at our finger tips. This can create a challenge, however, because we have this overabundance of content and connectivity, people need to meet face to face. We need to focus really hard on one thing that is amazing and profound. We’ve seen music gigs explode because people need the live experience to give meaning to streaming and downloads. It’s the same in art, and ideas events, it’s a symptom of our time.
How important do you think artistic collaboration between individuals is in digital art and culture?
Collaboration, sharing and openness are central to the DNA of digital culture. People can collaborate with tens or thousands of strangers across networks to create original and beautiful media objects in which the results of individual creativity can be seen. Mobile networks enable swift and spontaneous collaboration across loosely connected groups. There are always new ways to collaborate with people from other disciplines using them as tools for new development. Having said this, collaboration does not always lead to good art. Solo practice and isolation can create exceptional things.
How has the FutureEverything festival developed since its conception to the upcoming festival in Singapore? Are you witnessing significant changes in the way technology is being used in collaboration with art?
FutureEverything Singapore does feel like something of a culmination of our journey. We have been on this 20 year rollercoaster, imagining the near future, making it and mucking around with it. Then we rock up in this city that is a city of the future, in so many ways. We have never done two festivals the same, we keep on reinventing it. In Singapore my ambition is that we hit the mark, we tap into deep and unexpected currents there and I feel like we can do something beautiful and profound.
Drew Hemment. Image courtesy FutureEverything
The work of Javier Martin holds up a mirror to society – and on occasion, the mirror is literal
Javier Martin works with paint and sculpture in a manner that explores our current social climate incorporating fashion portraiture, recognisable brands, gun violence, climate change and money.
The work of Javier Martin reaches out to you in many ways. His early painting and digital print work merges ‘iconic’ fashion imagery, taken by himself, with brand imagery and currency. The model’s eyes are covered signifying some sort of ‘blindness’ towards the subject matter Martin wishes to convey. With similar messages, Marin’s installations and sculpture takes a more minimalist route in regards to aesthetic and visual quality.
Favouring the colour white, Martin’s installations see the human form become a blank canvas – his figures, clothed fully in white from head to toe, make any signifiers of personality or identity unrecognisable: they become robotic, uniformed figures. This forces the viewer to focus upon the actions these figures engage in or the positions they are found in. For example, ‘Portrait Inverted’ sees a figure falling into, or out of, a framed white space on the wall. ‘Man that is born of the earth’ finds this figure with a wooden branch-like head protruding from the earth, on all fours, as if forcibly attached to the land.
Martin’s installations reflect the art onto the viewer: the art is as much about the viewer as it is about the artist or the art. Mirrors are frequently used by Martin to place the viewer in the artwork, as a central figure around which the concepts discussed revolve around. ‘Social Reflection’ sees another while figure with a mirror for a face begging for money on the street. ‘Money? Where? Money? Who? Money? I?’ finds a larger-than-life one dollar bill hanging on the wall, and where one would usually find George Washington, one discovers themselves surrounded by the ornate decoration upon the currency.
The use of material and form by Martin is clever in that it can often ‘trick’ the viewer into finding reality in a situation where there is trickery. The bending, melting and protruding of material in works such as ‘El Pacto’ or ‘Climate change of design’ creates new dimension to the work. This is to the point where the crafting of these objects so seamlessly is to be highly admired.
Whilst some of Martin’s earlier works deal with printed and painted mediums, all of his later works bring the artwork out further towards the viewer. In installation and sculptural works, this is most obvious, but even in other photographic work and painting or drawing, an effort has been made to make the work more 3-D. Martin’s ‘Print Cuts’ alter photographic material to form the figures photographed as a web of material. Keeping these images suspended away from the wall in the frame allows the light in a space to interact with this web, casting shadows. In ‘Blindness Light’, Martin attaches neon lighting to edited photographic portraits, to cover the eyes of the figure and follow various contours, playing with colour and light.
Martin’s attachment to the ‘iconic’ fashion and modelling imagery with his artistic alterations has seen him collaborate with several fashion and art-based publications, creating imagery that lends itself to the glossy printed format.
Mark Mcclure | Neatly Ordered Abstraction
Mark Mcclure is an artist who utilizes reclaimed wood to create precise geometric artworks. Check out the interview by Benjamin Murphy
Mark Mcclure is an artist who utilizes reclaimed wood to create precise geometric artworks. Using both painted and untreated woods; his works have a crisp yet raw feel that exist symbiotically to create an ordered and balanced work. Sitting somewhere between sculpture, collage, and painting, his work is best interpreted when viewed in its relation to Constructivism.
BM – You combine both old and new materials in your work. Does the history of the materials ever dictate the aesthetic of the piece?
Not really. I tend not to do things that way round. I choose the materials for their colour & texture - in the same way a painter might choose from a selection of paints or charcoals. Texture, colour, and any remnants of past use - all contribute to a pretty broad palette. If I’m after specific textures or remnants to use - then I might stain the wood to adjust the colours slightly - but the history of materials never really takes priority.
BM – There is a conflict between form and functionality, which do you think takes precedent?
It’s interesting that you’ve preloaded the question suggesting that form and function are independent of each other. To me it’s all a sliding scale depending upon the context of a piece.
If I’m creating a wooden mural then it would automatically adopt the function of a wall surface - whilst also being an artwork. If I put a hinged door in a sculpture - it becomes a cupboard of sorts. It might be a bloody expensive & abstract cupboard - but it’s still got the potential to be a cupboard. It’s down to the context of the artwork - who owns it, how they perceive it, probably how much they paid for it as well.
BM – You have mentioned to me before that you would identify yourself as a constructivist. The Constructivists believed that the true goal was to make mass-produced objects. Your work is very hands-on, how would you feel about others making it for you?
The Constructivists had their own in-fights over the ideas of mass production. The likes of Rodchenko straddled the worlds of art & design - whilst others such as Naum Gabo believed in a purer approach that didn’t cross over into function. For me that goes back to the sliding scale & context of the artwork.
But mass production is a different beast to having other people involved in making artworks. The Uphoarding wall I created at the Olympic Park last year involved up to about 10 different people over a 10 month period - and in the future I’ll make artworks in materials I will never have time to master myself - concrete, metal etc. - So it’s inevitable that others will end up producing some of my work.
BM – Would it still feel like your artworks if you didn’t get your hands dirty?
Yes - but without the emotional attachment that comes from being so involved at every step - an attachment that probably stems from the craft side of things. They’d be put on a different shelf in my mind - but they’d still be mine.
BM – What makes the Constructivists artists as opposed to craftsmen?
Many of them were craftsmen - in that they strived to be masters of their materials - producing clothing, design objects etc. with a view to targeting a consumer market. Others had less tangible, idealistic aims - challenging or celebrating aspects of the world they lived in - expressing feeling and emotion etc. and I guess that’s what makes them artists.
BM – The Constructivists’s aim was to make artworks that force the viewer to become an ‘active viewer’, how interactive is your work and do you intend for it to be touched?
Interaction is really important and working in such tactile materials has meant that it’s hard not to touch a lot of my work - which is totally cool. I love the idea of artworks in galleries being more playful and interactive - though interaction doesn’t always have to involve touch. This is something I’m going to play with more this year…. some exciting ideas on the cards.
BM – When you clad the floor or a wall, do you see this as a two-dimensional or a three dimensional piece?
2 dimensions. I’m not too sure where the tipping point is - probably somewhere around 4 inches thick.
BM – Is collage then 2D or 3D? Would you say your work is a type of collage?
Potentially both - can we invent dimensional fractions here & now? 2.3 dimensions? I wouldn’t say my work right now is collage… though it has been. Collage to me is more layer upon layer than piece by piece - and involves a lot more glue.
BM – What exciting future projects are you working on?
A nice mix right now - a large bespoke floor and a few other fun pieces towards the ‘function’ end of that sliding scale we mentioned earlier - and also some new artworks for exhibitions & fairs over the summer. I’m also exploring some materials to add a new aspect to my work later this year. Some busy & exciting months ahead.
More of Mark’s work can be seen online at www.markmcclure.co.uk
Future fossils, the art legacy of the internet
With rapidly evolving technological advances, post-internet art discusses how humanity goes forward alongside machines.
With rapidly evolving technological advances, post-internet art discusses how humanity goes forward alongside machines.
Still in the process of being shaped and defined by artists, post-internet art is a movement referring to the way society interacts with the widespread use of the Internet and how this affects society and culture. A successor to internet art, post-internet refers to state of mind rather than the explicit use of the internet itself. We discuss artists working now who approach this issue by their own means.
Eno Henze explores the relationship between humans and machines, between organic and synthetic and the complexities of organic creativity. His work frequently uses machines to interpret human activity such as drawing or producing an original ‘good’ piece of art. In this respect it is difficult to assign authorship or originality to the work, made by a machine programmed by a human. The machine is capable of making a ‘perfect’ image but cannot make a judgment call on ‘good’ or ‘bad’ art. In a world where images are more available for editing and appropriating than before, this brings us back the ever debated question What is called Art and does not qualify?
Henze’s work asks what the rapid evolution of technology means for human creativity leading us to question what will become obsolete in the future as technological advances are made. Will human creativity become to digital drawing as analogue photography has become to digital?
TIMELAPSE/(MNEMOSYNE)
Set Design for a ballet by David Dawson
RANDOMCONDITION(ARABIDOPSIS)
Dimensions variable (ca 6 x 3 x 0,5 m)
48m laser-exposed photo paper
Wall mount: wood / aluminum
TSCHERENKOWS TRAUM (Cerenkovs Dream)
Technological objet trouvé with 4 Led Panels, power adaptor and image processor.
Approx. 5 x 1 x 1 m.
Amy Brener creates sculptures using plastic and remnants of technology to create light sensitive sculptures reminiscent of natural geological rock and crystal formations. Laptops, phones and computers, the tools we use to access the internet, are quickly made obsolete with rapid advances in hardware and buyer preferences in our current consumer culture, going quickly from the most connected and important object in one’s life to a antiquated piece of plastic and metal.
The materials used in Brener’s work subtly combine many components of these machines into human height crystals, which suggest an imagined future and allude to the merging of nature, humans and technology. Perhaps this realizes a now, eerily more precise vision of prophetic 20th century science fiction films.
However, though many artists are making work about the ongoing and always changing overlap of human and machine, Flavie Audi’s work completely moves away from the cyber connection and comes back to direct connections with objects. Audi uses glass and light in her work to create experiences in which humans can form a relationship with materials. Her art is about making a space for this to happen because, in a world of industrial production and virtual realities, she believes that humans have a desire to return to materiality.
If this is the case, it would appear that we have made a journey full circle. In the early boom of consumer capitalism the more objects one owned the higher status they had in society. More recently there is an attempt to escape this consumer culture; the word materialistic has become negative. It is therefore, somewhat alien to hear Audi talk about humans desire to return to materiality, due to the evolution of the word. Though, the use of this word does not imply that humans’ deepest desire is to own the latest sound system but that they wish to have a physical connection with an object in a space away from digital tools, and this is what her work aims to do. It is about creating social emancipation from technology.
Post-internet art has a self awareness of the networks it exists within, including influences of imagery that is for profit, advertising and merchandising, because of this aspects of design will continue to cross over into art that concerns itself with the virtual. The term post-internet is still developing but these artists approach the themes it encompasses in ways that independently question where the progression of technology will lead us, whether we should be allowing it, resisting it or if we have no choice at all. Whatever we should be doing, humanity is so entrenched in the virtual world, it seems certain that there is a long way to go before the Internet and it’s accompanying state of mind could ever become history.
Charles Avery alternative reality at Edinburgh Art Festival 2015
This year's Edinburgh Art Festival brings the immersive and complex conceptual world created by Charles Avery to engulf us.
This year's Edinburgh Art Festival brings the immersive and complex conceptual world created by Charles Avery to engulf us.
Edinburgh’s annual arts festival sets off 30th July, combining contemporary art exhibitions as well as those of more historic movements. Working with leading art spaces throughout the UK, the festival is a month long happening bringing us exhibitions, events and talks from a wide range of great artists including Charles Avery.
Represented by Ingleby Gallery, Avery is presenting more detailed insight into his imagined island with The People and Things of Onomatopoeia. Beginning in 2004, The Islanders series has continued to present the intricate details of his imagined land, evolving to give the audience understanding of the complexities of the inhabitants’ personalities, the nuances, habits and dislikes of groups and individuals.
Avery’s work has an element of fantasy but is not simply a flat rerun of the genre; there are many aspects of this world that mirror issues in our own society as well as introducing abstract concepts of myths and rumors as a potential reality in this universe, even if only existing as a belief by the inhabitants.
The audience experiences this through a wide multimedia approach to a kind of open-ended storytelling using a narrative text, visual imagery, sculpture and installation on a large scale, often presenting objects used by constituents or posters from the streets of Onomatopoeia. These are used as tools for the audience to interpret and contextualise this world.
To add to the incomplete or continual nature of the work, many of Avery’s sketches are unfinished, giving the feeling that the work continues to live alongside the artist. The inhabitants’ lives do not begin and end during the course of the exhibition, there is an endless scope of story to be told about this place and these people.
It is compelling to think of this fictional world as a form of escapism for both the artist and the audience, however, the complexities it inherits being no less problematic than those of our own society can be somewhat grounding, not allowing us to submit to a utopian fantasy.
In addition to this Avery is also presenting a tree from Onomatopoeia cast in bronze at Edinburgh train station as part of the festival which runs until 30th August 2015.
OUT OF AFRICA
Africa Industrial Revolution. This time the revolution will be downloaded.
London in summer is a wonderful place. With or without the heatwave. There’s a host of arts exhibitions across London this summer, offering a feast of delectable, outstanding and eye-opening events to indulge your eyes, add to your repertoire and broaden your horizon. And roomsmagazine.com have brought you quite a few, well more than a few. Here is one more to indulge in. All hail to the Tiwani Contemporary Gallery who have brought us this captivating exhibition titled: “African Industrial Revolution / the revolution will be downloadable”. Yes, you read right. I know most of you must have heard and read of – “this time the revolution will be televised”. But in keeping with the times as there’s been a complete revolution in digital technology, and people look more and more at art through the media, its apt for the artist to state that, this time, the African Industrial Revolution will be downloaded. How about that?
Francisco Vidal, 'If I'm free, it's because I'm always running no.1', 2015, oil and acrylic on recycled handmade paper, 255x255cm. ® Sylvain Deleu
Africa Industrial Revolution is a venture by the e-studio Luanda. E-studio Luanda is an international artistic collective of passionate artists resident in a studio complex founded in 2012 in the Angolan capital Luanda by four artists: Francisco Vidal, Rita GT, António Ole and Nelo Teixeira. The collective has played an influential role in developing the visual arts scene in Luanda, bringing into being regular shows and running an art education curriculum. What it means to be an artist now, even compared to 1980s, has changed so dramatically that they have redefined not just how we make art, but how we consume it. In this the collective’s first exhibition in the United Kingdom, A. I. R. exposition is a backdrop and also takes the form of an open studio within Tiwani Contemporary’s space, transforming the gallery space into a temporary artist studio where the visiting public can appreciate artist Francisco Vidal and Rita GT producing work live in-situ. Visitors can also observe the artists start up the U.topia Machine:
U.topia Machine is a 60 x 60 cm plywood box containing an all-in-one toolkit for producing work. I'd say this is what being an artist is in the 21st century. The complete exhibition at it's very best portrays artists who like to build momentum. The whole gallery is covered with art display – from top-to-bottom, windows and doors. The large scale works are all by Francisco Vidal and the posters are by Rita GT. The exhibition gives the visitors a whole new perspective on wall-to-wall arts. One thing among many others I find interesting is that the works are displayed in order to catch the eye and get one thinking. I don’t want to spoil things by giving too much away in this review, go see for yourself. Even if you have seen a picture or a painting on the Tiwani website or on roomsmagazine.com, when you actually stand in front of these large scale works it is a completely different experience. The paintings are challenging, moving and a lot more besides. Hurry!
It’s also worth seeing the artists live at work. How cool is that? If you ask me this exhibition is initiating a riot, but in a good way. There are many more artists coming out of Africa these days and for a long time now it’s been a lot more vibrant and less political. The international art world is now looking at Africa a lot more, not as a backwater but as a would-be front-runner of the art world, sooner rather than later.
African Industrial Revolution, Tiwani Contemporary, 2015 ® Sylvain Deleu
African Industrial Revolution | e-studio Luanda
10 July - 15 August 2015
Tiwani Contemporary, 16 Little Portland Street, London. W1W 8BP
Tuesday - Friday, 11am - 6pm
Saturday, 12pm - 5pm
Free entry
Maeng Wookjae is the Big Game Ceramic Hunter
Enter into the mind of one the most exciting up-and-coming South Korean artists of our time.
In some pieces, Maeng Wookjae adorns his ceramic animal sculptures on wooden plaques that resemble the severed heads of big game. The kind you would see in a trigger-happy Safari hunter’s lodgings. But they’re not the installations of a taxidermist. They’re ceramic, and thus fragile, just like the wild and vulnerable animals that Wookjae sculpts.
Auguste Rodin once said, “nothing is a waste of time if you use the experience wisely.” His words could not be more relevant than to Maeng Wookjae – who’s artistic expression was found during his time spent travelling to North America. I interviewed the South Korean artist himself, and his environmental conscience struck me just as potently as his sculptures do.
What is the significance of the gold eyes in your ceramic sculptures?
They can be shown to audiences in several ways. First, people can see themselves reflected in the shiny gold eyes. The scenery on the eyes represents our very plentiful environment, which can be compared with a plentiful environment for other creatures too. It also represents how the animals look from our human perspective. The colour of gold doesn’t always seem cold because it is metallic – there is warmness in it.
Would you say that one of the biggest turning points of your career were your visits to North America? If so, why?
Yes, my work changed after visiting North America. I went to a residence program called the Archie Bray foundation, after finishing my M.F.A in Korea. The environment was quite rural in comparison to life in Seoul, which is a very crowded city. I had wondrous, fresh experiences such as several chances to meet wild animals face to face.
For example, a friend of mine and I drove to another friend’s house and there was a deer on the narrow road. Usually wild animals run away from people but the deer was standing in the middle of the road. The deer looked at the ground and us several times. When I looked closer, I saw a dead baby deer. I can’t still forgot the moment of having eye contact with the mother deer.
Another moment I strongly recall was a time where I was on the way to home and found a huge dead deer by the road. I felt so sorry and immensely sad. At that time, some teenagers walked through the area and one guy loudly said something to the dead deer and spat on its carcass. I was really surprised and I tried to understand that situation. I thought maybe a wild animal injured one of his family or friends.
And then I started to have a deep concern about the relationship between humans and animals. I continued my North America trip with a residency at the Banff Centre in Canada. And I had more priceless experiences with wild animals.
Let’s talk a little bit about your most recent work – Family. What was the creative process and inspiration behind that?
It began with the thought “Are we a family?” I combined humans and other life forms on the works. Some people see the work; view it positively, friendly and relate to it. I wanted to lead people to think and talk about our environmental conditions with other creatures.
Have you noticed a difference between the reactions of your Western and Far-Eastern audiences? In other words – how do Americans and Europeans react to work in comparison to Koreans?
From what I’ve seen, the western audience are more interested in my works than Koreans. I think it’s because of the difference in perspective about how both cultures view art. My works focus on presenting social issues and environmental issues rather than an expression of beauty. Young people in Korea show an interest [in my work], and try to understand my expression, but a lot of the older audience don’t think it’s an art piece. They might just think ‘it’s not related to my life’, although my works tell a story about universal issues. The art market in Korea is small and restricted to the very famous artists. But it’s beginning to get better now.
As well as being represented by the Mindy Solomon gallery like you, Kate MacDowell’s work is rather similar to yours. I wanted to ask you if you would you consider doing a collaborative work with her?
I’ve seen her artwork on the web. And I like her work. It could be interesting to do something with her – I think it’s always good showing works together that convey similar themes.
If you had to choose, who are your top 5 favourite contemporary artists?
Anish Kapoor, Antony Gormley, Damien Hirst, Olafur Eliasson, Clare Twomey.
What can we expect from Maeng Wookjae in 2016?
Recently, I’m trying to make an exhibition through an installation. I find that installations are a more effective way to connect my works to audiences. So I will challenge myself to make this creative way of expression.
INTERVIEW: Clay Ketter toys with familiarity and what is ‘real’
A search for “gravity” and art that “serves itself”.
Clay Ketter’s work merges art and design, whilst manipulating subjects that may be recognisable to the viewer. His art appears as everything from meticulously designed and constructed monuments to "American vernacular architecture”, to photography “influenced by modern imaging techniques”.
The work of Clay Ketter toes the line between art and design, incorporating learned practices from both disciplines, coming to merge as works of art that have a highly unique voice. With a background in construction and an education in art and design, Ketter’s artistic finger occasionally points towards the design in the art, and the art in the design, which he solidifies to me succinctly: “Design is an answer to a question. It entertains the question or request. Art has more sovereignty. It entertains nothing (in the best case scenario), only itself … In a perfect world, there is no difference (between art and design)”.
Spider Woods, 2010, 180 x 244 cm, Diasec-mounted lightjet print. image Clay Ketter. courtesy Bartha Contemporary, London.
“In a nutshell, I have realized, all too late in the game, that my artworks should not be about it, but be it." Ketter’s development in approach to his work has lead to him exhibiting seemingly larger works, which inhabit the mediums of photography, installation, drawing and many more. Size, therefore, is important in giving the subjects of these works a sense of ‘realness’: “what may seem like a ‘large-scale’ work to a viewer is actually simply 1:1, or ever so slightly smaller (to create an uneasiness or disorientation). I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. At least when it comes to drawings and photographic media, I work more and more in 1:1 scale.” In Ketter’s ‘Valencia Wall’ or ‘Road’ series of photographs, this expanse in size delivers the opportunity to consider the role of the senses in photography: “From a formalistic standpoint, a photograph subjectifies an object, it captures the play of shadow and light in a given situation, thereby implying what you refer to as texture. It becomes a matter of reading, rather than a sensory phenomenon. In a way, the large, as-1:1-as-possible, scale is an attempt to re-objectify the phenomenon represented.” With these approaches to size, comes what Ketter describes as “gravity”.
However, this “gravity” is something that Ketter believes can originate from several sources, not just magnitude: “Sometimes, art is at its best when it dashes expectations. Art is at its best when it is recalcitrant. That being said, I believe that the best design is also recalcitrant." This can be seen in abundance in Ketter’s larger installations. ‘Tomb’ and ‘Homestead’ play with the viewer’s expectations and pre-conceived notions of aesthetic and purpose. This breathes a palpable and yet indescribable energy, which the artist believes “is more the result of small adjustments in the otherwise recognizable."
Tomb, 2009, 520 x 660 x 300 cm, mixed media. image Albin Dahlström, Moderna Museet. courtesy Moderna Museet, Stockholm.
“Both Homestead and Tomb are first and foremost archetypes for an American vernacular architecture – a lowest common denominator for a dwelling within this vernacular. They are based on the dimensions of Thoreau’s cabin at Walden pond, while bearing a style more resonant of Elvis Presley’s birthplace. The adjustments I speak of are simply the removal of doors, windows, vents, stairs – the removal of physical access – perhaps opening up for a more cerebral access, contemplation. What seems, at a distance, cozy, becomes, upon closer examination, stubbornly cold. My Surface Composites or 'kitchen' pieces from the 1990’s are made in the same way. By 'bending' the artwork to the edge of its familiarity, by making it estranged, I hopefully knock the viewer, at least for a moment, out of their comfort zone of recognition. What one thinks one sees, and what one sees, form something new, something sovereign.”
Ketter’s 'bending' of his work can be seen as a logical development from some artistic traditions that sought to place meaning in the ‘absurdity’ of exhibiting common-place objects out of their original context: “The gesture of presenting a ready-made object as an art object has filled its function in art. This revolutionary gesture marked a significant turning point in art-making, and we still enjoy the liberation it unfolded and continues to encourage. However, the ready-made is a one-liner; its greatest value occurs upon the 'ah-ha' reception”. For Ketter, art should be somewhat about 'fabrication', not just in crafting something new, but also “in the literary sense of 'making-up' or telling a story."
Wall V.28, 2003, 179 x 214 cm, Diasec-mounted C-print. image Clay Ketter/Nils Bergendal. courtesy Bartha Contemporary, London.
With this “fabrication” that exists in the “story” of an artwork, a certain amount of sentimentality and reminiscence of the past can be read, which Ketter approaches with “caution”: “As a human being, I am sentimental, and do not try to curb my sentimentality, but as an artist, I find my own sentimentality, as well as the sentimentality of others, to have a clouding effect. One must try to eliminate this cloudiness or fog in order to reach clarity. Clarity is paramount, no matter what media one is using … Nostalgia is the worst of all sentimentalities, in its commonly recognized form– nostalgia concerning the past. I believe there is, however, such a thing as nostalgia concerning the imagined future, and I enjoy entertaining this notion."
Ketter’s inspiring attachment to making “work that insists on being made” sees himself “serving [his] art instead” of the art serving him, his relationship with the making of art becomes “a matter of trust”: “If I can manage to concentrate on the thing that insists on being made, that which becomes clear to me in the moments when I am both awake and a-sleep … then the rest is logistics– work." Most artists will agree that they strive for some sort of freedom in creating their work, whether it be physical and logistical freedom or whether it is freedom from the chains that hold us down mentally, to which Ketter prescribes “a self-emancipation from consistency – freedom, not only from established consensuses surrounding one’s work, but also one's own wretched half-baked dogmas, embracing the freedom to contradict one's self, and enjoying the consequent liberty of this emancipation”.