Stripped but not bare

“I felt that these galleries should somehow be returned to what they once had been, halls for monumental sculpture. Places where people could come and wonder at the sheer physicality of sculptural objects.” - Mike Nelson

 

Nothing in Mike Nelson’s [1967- ] latest installation ‘The Asset Strippers’, located in the vast, stone-carved walls of Tate Britain’s Duveen Galleries is trying to be art. It simply just is. Former industrial-sized knitting machines, a digger bucket, a cement mixer, scales, a lathe and a hay-turner are amongst a series of abandoned machines from salvage yards and online auctions of company liquidators, which have been collected and presented at the Tate as sculptural objects. Woodwork benches complete with vices, drawers and remnants of string and detergent bottles become the plinths on which many of these ‘ready-mades’ reside.

Each piece of machinery is a remnant fallen into neglect and disuse, symptomatic of the shift in ways of manufacture and decrease from manual industries to service ones. I confess that I don’t recognise what the majority of the machines here were even for! I am probably not alone in this acknowledging that there is also something unexpectedly exciting about trying to imagine or ‘work-out’ what the purpose of these things once was (or perhaps could be!). Like Francis Picabia’s paintings of imaginary Surrealist/Dada-esque machines, there is also the slightly more obvious connection to Duchamp’s ‘The Bride Stripped Bare by her Batchelors, Even’ in the way these mechanical parts have been arranged as though for a new use (for which they had previously not been intended) and collaged together. In one piece telegraph poles lay horizontally atop red, blue and yellow tarpaulin on which supports a circular tube (from possibly a drain) of sorts; balanced together in a sort-of ‘found-objects’ version of an Anthony Caro sculpture which can be seen also in the Tate Britain only a few rooms away. Nearby a former hay-turner is presented so that its’ turning blades take on the appearance of four golden suns or flowers; an association that I feel, relates to the dry sunny days during which the hay-turner would have been put to use. My mother commented that this machine reminded her of the one her parents used on the farm in Somerset and that she had never before looked upon or seen it in this way (as sculpture).
 

Formally and aesthetically speaking there is much to be gleaned from looking at all of this. Graffitied, worn and stained surfaces, flaking paint; artificial metallic blues and bright reds against natural woody browns and oil-stained metals. Boxy squares, circles, stacks and lines from threads and strings still connected in the knitting machines all make for a rich list of sculptural criteria. Though the question of whether we are being asked to appreciate these machines as sculptural objects or to look upon them as relics from the past (or both) is really where this piece becomes both socially significant as well as aesthetic. The knitting machines are reminiscent of the ones Nelson’s family worked on whilst growing up in the East Midlands, now in his early fifties, Nelson and many of his generation and before will have seen a broader picture, perhaps than myself, in just how much Britain has significantly changed from the industrial era to more service-based ones. Doors from a NHS hospital and wood from a former army barracks act as visual and functional barriers to divide and section the individual components of this installation into curated parts of one bigger, immersive piece; they also unintentionally or not comment on the value of both art and the materials it uses and the value or shift in value we have as a society towards institutions like the NHS and manual industries generally. For me, these make-shift walls help contain the unmistakable smell of oil from all of the machinery that is reminiscent of my grandfather’s workshop on the farm. I am utterly bias in this whole post from projects I have previously done on car engines and farming tools!

In a previous work, titled ‘Coral Reef’, seen at the Tate in 2000 Nelson similarly used reclaimed materials to create a movie-set-like-labyrinth of rooms. Each sparsely lit by naked-bulbs and grubby reclaimed timber to create a slightly seedy or sinister spaces, a gallery reception area, a taxi-office, a heroin-den; each with a story awaiting to happen, they are suspenseful and the closet experience I have ever come to like being inside an Edward Hopper painting; their commonality being the absence of people. There is something similarly haunting about ‘The Asset Strippers’ and as the name suggests it is after the factory has closed, the people who once knew the purpose of these great beast-like contraptions have since left along with their stories and their skills to work these machines. All is quiet. All is now still. It seems that in stripping these places into their bare commodities we have also stripped or lost something of the people, stories and time in which they previously existed. It is a proverbial ghost-ship but in being reclaimed as sculpture, as ‘art’ and displayed in the Duveen Galleries of Tate Britain where historically ‘treasures of the empire’ were seen, they are memorials to this past heritage whose concept of  ‘value’ is in-turn put into question. What once were stripped assets are now reassembled art. 

 

Mike Nelson –The Asset Strippers at Tate Britain until October 6th 2019

https://www.tate.org.uk/press/press-releases/mike-nelson-asset-strippers

 

Four Eyebrow-raisingly Good Reasons to Visit Us This Art Weeks

Somerset Art Weeks 2015 has begun and if you were wondering where might be a good place to start then look no further than Venue 1, The Old Brick Workshop in Wellington. Yes, I am exhibiting as part of a group show here, but if the allure of seeing my work alone isn’t enough (and why not?!) then there are plenty more ‘eyebrow-raisingly’ good reasons to make some time in your Art Weeks schedule and visit us...

 

1) A Brand New Brilliant Venue in Wellington, Somerset Set in a former Brick Works on the Poole Industrial Estate; I can confidently say we are as proud of the building as we are the exhibition within it. Under the enterprising vision of local business woman, Alison Cosserat the building has undergone a radical transformation, largely of which (and with many thanks) at the hands of local builder turned artist, James Marsden along with tireless hours spent by Alison herself, exhibiting artists and enthusiastic volunteers in the form of family and friends. The building now boasts nine sizeable studio spaces divided between the upstairs and downstairs areas, a community area/gallery space and purpose built exhibition space downstairs. Every gloss painted door, chiselled-paint removed brick, concrete floor and plaster boarded ceiling, spotlight and wall tells a story. We’d love you to come in for a nosey!

 

2) Loads of Art! This first exhibition features well over a hundred works by fourteen artists* including painting, printmaking, photography, sculpture, film and installation. In addition to our professionally curated gallery space there is also art work to be discovered in our corridors, upstairs and downstairs and in our community room gallery.  

*James Marsden, Anna Newland Hooper, Diana Pilcher, Debbi Sutton, Alex Conetta, Nicky Withers, Jane Mowat, Teresa Wilson, Ashley Thomas, Jane Kelly, Natalie Parsley, Alex Bangay and Judith Crosher 

 

3) We have Cinema Chairs in our film room! 

 

4) We also have a very fine looking propeller!

Duchamp's remark to Brancusi visiting the Paris Aviation Show, 1919; "Painting is over and done with. Who could do anything better than this propeller? Look, could you do that?"

Visit us and decide for yourselves?!

Venue 1: The Old Brick Workshop, Wellington is open now, everyday 11-6 until Sunday October 18th

http://somersetartworks.org.uk/venues/the-old-brick-workshop/

http://www.theoldbrickworkshop.com/

Playing videogames...

 

If M C Escher could have made a video game app it might have looked something like this...

 

 

It seems reasonable to assume that if weathered painted wooden doors, rusty tins and all manner of broken detritus can be art; (as well as films, music and certain branches of cookery, gardening and sport which can also be seen as art forms) then surely some aspects of videogames should also be recognised as such? And does it really matter if they are/aren’t? I’m not going any further to attempt tackling the age old debate of what ‘is’ and ‘isn’t’ art, numerous philosophers, writers and thinkers have attempted to do so infinitely better than me with the only certainty is that we’re still not quite sure and that it is ever changing.  It is ‘an excessively broad church’ I was once told.  Hence, given the amount of production, imagination, people and time invested in developing games, fuelled by the money the industry generates in Britain alone each year (in excess of 3.5 billion!) it is slightly surprising that videogames are met with a degree of resistance and snobbery in being perceived, critiqued or categorised under the ‘art umbrella’.

 

I’m all for a bit of inclusivity having played video games as I have watched movies, listened to music and dabbled in art (in the conventional sense) for years. When I completely per chance came across an online downloadable app called ‘Monument Valley’, a game that looked and played like being in an M C Escher painting I thought it was long overdue that I hit the keys and articulated my thoughts here on the blog.  [That and to prove that there is more to videogames as art than the likes of David Hockney drawing a few digital paintings on an ipad.]

 

In ‘Monument Valley’ the concept is a simple one; move the protagonist ‘girl in a pointy hat’ from A to point B via navigating your way through the ‘impossible’ architecture of a topsy-turvey citadel of er...monuments. Combining puzzle solving with narrative the player embarks on a series of challenges in which they control parts of the structures to create new routes and walkways that once didn’t exist in order to progress through the game. The illusionary perspective, that only really makes sense if/when you play the game arguably borrows its sense of impossible realism from the likes of the Surrealists and artists like M C Escher (see images below). I don’t want to intentionally make it sound 'dry' by over analysing it, as ultimately it is a really fun, elegant and beautifully simple looking game, but one in which (as in many games) has had a great deal of design, craft and creativity put into it. Surely worth some appreciation at least? 

 

The games creator Ken Wong claimed the design was inspired by Japanese prints and minimalist sculpture. The crisp, cell-shaded design with very sparse, flat and often mist shrouded backgrounds does have a very Japanese quality to it. Equally the music and sound effects in 'Monument Valley' have a Arabic, Eastern sound which alters based on the movements of the buildings when you touch the screen. The overall affect is very thoughtful and well put together gentle and calming game. In terms of where it sits in the bigger gaming community it reminds me of a growing trend for architecture design and utopias in games like Minecraft where vast, intricate and idealised visions of the metropolis or imagined structures can be created. In these virtual world's things can be created that exceed the limitations of reality and could and should be used as start points and spring boards for creativity and design. Who wouldn't want to live in a house like this?   

 

 

M C Escher 'Ascending and Descending' (1960) Lithographic print

If you’re in need of further convincing then look no further than the De Chirico influenced art style from the 2001 Playstation Game, 'Ico' (see image below) .

(Left) 'Mystery and Melancholy of a Street' (1914) Giorgio de Chirico -- (Right) 'Ico' (2001) Playstation 2

Videogames operate on a similar conceptual basis of puzzle solving, communication and engagement that can be not too dissimilar to the process of viewing art. Similarly they are interactive and immersive, games and I quote ‘speak to people’ and communicate in a medium that is debatably more of ‘our time’ than traditional methods of painting, printmaking. Without going into it now, I speculate that the most innovative artists are the ones utilising new technologies such as 3D printing, laser cutting etc. to make work.

 

 In the same way every scene from certain films can be perceived as an individual framed work of art so can shots or scenes from videogames be perceived as such. Increasingly as well videogames are becoming more cinematic in their story telling and realism ('Heavy Rain' from 2010 being one example).  Unlike a lot of art however videogames offer the ‘liberation of shared authorship’ as one Oxford professor** on a lecture on videogames as art described the process of interacting with games having one author who programmes/creates the constraints, rules and possibilities but multiple authors in those who interact with it and in the case of games like, ‘Minecraft’ or ‘Second Life’ contribute creating and altering elements within that digital universe. I struggled to think of any artists whose work operated in this way, other than that of participatory art and some environmental art projects. To be continued....

 

 

In 2012 the MOMA held an exhibition of iconic videogames (such as PACMAN and Pong) alongside its collection of Modern art works. Unsurprisingly it was met with some controversy and sparked much debate as to whether something which originated as a means of entertainment, play and fun could really be considered as art with one critic making a case for games not being an art form with the analogy of likening it to chess, 

 

“Chess is a great game, but even the finest chess player in the world isn't an artist. She is a chess player. Artistry may have gone into the design if the chess pieces. But the game of chess itself is not art nor does it generate art – it is just a game.”

 

Still if that is the case then we are ignoring the fact that ‘everyone’s favourite’ art protagonist, Marcel Duchamp had not only opened the doors to allowing ‘anything’ to be considered as art he specifically recognised along with Manray that chess too could be art and shared many of its traits with the process of making it,

 

‘...they saw qualities in it that they thought essential to their art –opportunities for improvisiation and play based upon skill, not chance; ritualised forms and iconography that embodied the violence and eroticism of the world around them; a new type of artist-viewer relationship; a unique sense of spatial organisation; and a set of contradictions that could be transposed to aesthetic or anti-aesthetic ends.’*

 

 

The danger of inclusivity or ‘if everything can be art’ can mean that you dilute the distinction of what ‘Fine Art’ may be, but it’s not to say that all video games are art or in the same way that all videogames aren’t necessarily ‘good’ art. Although with more and more time people are spending online, in virtual worlds and the accessibility online generally it is a debate that is going to become increasingly hard for its critics to ignore. Videogames continue to develop that exceed their original origins of being merely things of 'play' and indeed on the other hand are one of the few mediums which truly value the role of play as a means of discovery and learning.

 

With a Minecraft exhibition featuring 3D reproductions of famous Modernist paintings currently on show at the Tate it seems that computing technology and in particular videogames are in fact being used as a means of appealing to a younger generation. I'd argue that it is more than a gimmicky passing fad and like it or loathe it, it seems they are around to stay. Popularity isn’t necessarily a conclusive bench mark for whether something can be considered as art or not, but the increased popularity of gaming and game production is worthy of our attention. Only time will tell.

 

 

Similar links and references:

http://www.monumentvalleygame.com/

http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2014/nov/26/minecraft-tate-worlds-paintings-3d-reality

** http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/jonathanjonesblog/2012/nov/30/moma-video-games-art

*LIST, L. (2008) Chess as Art, In: MUNDY, J. (2008) Duchamp, Manray, Picabia, London: Tate Publishing . pp. 133-143

 

 

A pretentious blog post about a pretentious art film

Roll up! Roll up! See, the magnificent ‘Girl with a Pearl Earring’, bask in the beauty of the Mona Lisa, be wooed by the fair Frida Kahlo, witness poetic choreography, sublime felting, sculpture, drawing and printmaking for one day only as the marvellous yet mysterious, House of F, present, ‘Fakes, Fraud’s and Flagrant Rip-offs!’

 

Saturday 26^th January, I have the day off work! A red letter day indeed and what better way to spend it than visiting some art with a friend. But, not just any old art, no, this was to be a surreal, fun-filled experience of the likes that can only come from the mind of artist (and friend), Annie Jeffs. Somewhere in a tithe barn in Fitzhead for one day only, Annie Jeffs, Kate Burrows and friends as the ‘House of F’ collective (you can decide yourself what the ‘f’ is for) came together to put on an exhibition celebrating, fakes, fraud’s and rip-offs. It is safe to say that they deliberately don’t take themselves too seriously, which is refreshing and also, by how it looked, a lot of fun! Plasticine replicas of Van Gogh’s, Vincent’s bedroom in Arles’ and Vermeer’s ‘Girl with the Pearl Earring’ by Annie Jeffs (or Annie Jiffy as she is sometimes also known) are actually brilliantly accurate to the real paintings and can’t help but make you smile when you realise they are made with nothing other than a child’s modelling material. If you only learn one thing from seeing a House of F exhibition, it’s that art is fun. If you wanted to get analytical about it then you could make all sorts of associations between the intuitiveness and child-like-ness of play and using plasticine and the similarities that kind of play has with creative intuition and spontaneity. But let’s not over think it because over in the corner there is a stack of toast and a jar of marmite that is inviting us to come over and have a go at painting a portrait of the Mona Lisa on toast. And why not! Actually, this was really tricky to do, but the variety of results was fantastic. In many ways, my favourite piece of the day, and that’s from someone who hates marmite!

Moving on, the slightly chaotic, busy barn hall, taking care not to knock over any boards, animals or small children, I make my way to a rolled up parchment (pictured) depicting black and white drawings of the Poll Tax riots. ‘House of F’ always has had political undertones, proving it isn’t all toast and plasticine! These drawings were great and were created from a first-hand account by the artist who had also been there. I particularly like the way you had to unroll the parchment from left to right as the narrative unfolded.

Next, I pass a felted replica (or at least I assume it is) of Van Gogh’s ear in a box and some truly brilliant photography (pictured) depicting abandoned rooms that look, let’s just say, a little worse for wear. But you don’t need to be an ‘artist’ to know or appreciate that sometimes these sorts of decay and abandoned neglect in buildings can be beautiful, haunting and make for one really interesting photo! Again, without sounding too discerning, my only criticism of these photos was the painted, collaged frames that surrounded them that really detracted from the images themselves. Less is more!

 

  By now I was getting parched and what I really needed was a drink. Heading to the barn’s upstairs gallery, I was delighted to hear they were serving G&T and what better way to serve it, than from a tea pot, served gracefully, by none-other than Frida Kahlo herself! Woah! Definitely surreal! Refreshed, I progressed to view Kahlo’s felt-made self portrait and some equally surreal sculptures of the likes pictured below.

 

 What better way to conclude this eventful outing than with the premier screening of, ‘A pretentious art film’ in the snug, secluded seat of the fireplace (and also in wide-screen!). Reading the reviews on the wall of, “This film was such a momentous piece of art that I hid myself from the world for 3.8 weeks in order for the stunning metaphor to immerse in my mind” and “I feel privileged to have this film grace upon my retinas” set a high expectation of what I was about to see. It shows, one woman and her boat...er I mean bath tub...one woman and her dog.....three men in a boat......three men and a woman falling out of a boat or indeed a bath tub....dancing and then the end.  The images now in my retinas I stopped to reflect on what it all could mean?..... It’s easy to get caught in ‘not’ taking this film seriously (as it’s not meant to be) but even saying that is a bit like saying, ‘how do you be cool?’ when some things don’t need explanation, they defy it. However, me being me, I can’t help but naturally take some earnest in being serious about not ‘being serious’ and whilst I find it funny, I also find it kind-of clever in the way it is unashamedly taking the piss out of itself and the context and pretentiousness of some art. With running the risk of sounding too pretentious myself, I do wonder what makes a pretentious art film so pretentious or not? And is it more the context and formal-ness of the gallery space and institution that makes a work seem more pretentious than it is? Or is it about expectation, and that we don’t expect to find a pretentious art film in a tithe barn in Fitzhead but we do, in a gallery like Spacex? So interesting....even if it wasn’t supposed to make me think, it has! Have a look for yourselves.      

 

 

There you have it! Weird, brilliantly rubbish and above all fun! Eat your heart out Marcel Duchamp! Upon returning to the real world, I couldn't help but smile.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, 'The House of F'!