You don't have to like it all

“Perhaps the most shocking tactic that’s left to artists these days is sincerity.” –Grayson Perry

 

A year ago on October 15^th I tuned in to Radio 4 for the first time. Make of that what you will, but to my young ears even the thought of listening to anything other than music on the radio (even with the annoying adverts) seemed like a waste of airwaves. Fortunately, such is my commitment to art and attempting to understand it better that I was willing to change stations that day to listen to a Turner Prize winning transvestite potter (as he calls himself)  speculate for an hour on the age old debate of ‘what is art’ amongst other things. How wrong I was not to tune into Radio 4 until then, I’m so glad I did and I’m sure that if Grayson Perry knew (or even cared) that I was adjusting my preset music channels on my radio to listen to him discuss the subject of taste in art, would be slightly amused (or perhaps horrified) by the irony of my decision.

 

 At the time when I listened to these weekly, four-part lectures (known as the Reith Lectures) I felt quite productively riled by it all, it felt more like a manifesto, a ‘call to arms’ than a lecture. I was strongly in agreement with many of his views, from the intimidating nature of commercial galleries, self consciousness in making art, the difficulty of irony and conflict between seriousness and amateur in art, to how anti-establishment loses its edge when it becomes popular. It was as though he had so entertainingly and eloquently voiced many of the opinions and thoughts I’d contemplated or more often heard voiced by my friends and peers (artists and non artists alike). And like many I spoke to at the time, I identified with his delivery of plain speaking, honest observation, wit and impassioned rhetoric. So much so, that I made copious notes on it all with lots of circling and heavy underlining of things which really struck-a-chord or had resonance. There were a lot! I never published these thoughts into a post, until now, probably because at the time it was so popular I felt I’d only be regurgitating what everyone already felt and knew.

 

 

Nearly a year later and the riling and irony continues as I’ve retreated to the confines of my room to escape the tawdry blare of the X Factor to read the newly published book, ‘Playing to the Gallery’ which is almost word-for-word a transcript of the Reith Lectures Perry gave last year. I have no problem in knowing which I prefer, which I undoubtedly enjoy the most and which I think is a steaming pile of trash, but paradoxically, as Perry in the opening chapter of the book mentions, there are problems in knowing what is good taste and which is bad. Is taste purely subjective? Where do ideas of quality and authenticity sit when deciding a work’s value? Perry argues that in the same way beauty can be determined by a familiarity of reinforced ideas, is similar to how we assert and measure taste with popularity, or in other words, the myth of ‘if it’s popular it must be good’. However, as he also acknowledges, popularity and the arts don’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with some artists choosing to reject the idea altogether. What is in agreement is that there is a certain set of criteria or ‘boundaries’ as Perry names them which determine whether a work of art is a work of art, although this in-turn depends on the right people saying or deciding it is....it all gets a bit woolly; and if we are to start judging whether the X Factor is good or poor taste then we might as well start asking is the X Factor art?

 

“ ‘We’re all bohemians now’. And if you think about it, all the things that were once seen as subversive and dangerous like tattoos and piercings and drugs and interracial sex and fetishism and other-ness –they crop up on X Factor now on a Saturday night for family viewing.

 

 

As a creative person/artist (albeit someone who has studied it and now remains drifting, a wandering purveyor on the outskirts of the world that is art) much of  Perry’s discussion is preaching to the converted but offers a refreshingly honest critique of the art world, its challenges and its pitfalls; advice in tenacity and commitment, for both aspiring, ‘emerging’ and practicing artists alike.

 

“As an artist the ability to resist peer pressure, to trust one’s own judgement, is vital, but it can be a lonely and anxiety-inducing procedure.”

 

And on the subject of angst, there’s a lot of it in this book, which is probably why I related to it so much, Perry addresses the angst felt in viewing and creating art, in particular how difficult it is to remain un-cynical when, he argues, the legacy of art history has already covered so many acts of rebellion, discovery, shock and protest that it leaves current generates of artists without a ‘cause’...what is art if it is no longer about storytelling, mass communication or pushing boundaries? And is that in itself something to make art about?

 

“Because of course art’s primary role is not an asset class and it’s not necessarily about being an urban-regeneration catalyst, Its most important role is to make meaning.”

 

 

This is one of those art books that will probably end up on a first year reading list on Fine Art degree courses, like ‘Ways of seeing’ by Berger or ‘But is it art?’ by Cynthia Freeland.  Rightly so, it covers much in the way of art history by offering how it has affected or how we can interpret contemporary art today. However all of these books are very much starting points to these wider debates and Perry is particularly good at provoking in an informed way but slightly holds back from being the academic that he is probably through fear of alienating people.

 

If anything it points to the fact that educating people about art is essential to both its survival and future development, which isn’t necessarily about making more artists but equipping people, even the most tentative art gallery tourist with the confidence to question and talk about art. True you can still experience art without having any education on the subject, but I think that experience is all the richer and more rewarding when there is some understanding of why, when and how a work was created. That’s not the same as saying people should be comfortable around art, it usually works best when it’s the opposite, but should be about encouraging people that if they think, look, experience or talk about art then they will be rewarded with alternative world views, new perspectives on things or ways of seeing. I still find looking and understanding a lot of art incredibly difficult, but the difference is that I’ve learnt how to enjoy that challenge and have subjected myself to as much as I can so I am familiar with how to go about trying to understand it if I want to. This may have also come at a cost of becoming increasingly sceptical and cynical about a lot of art, but it is all the more exciting when I find something that unsettles that perspective. Art is a challenge and a question and as Perry acknowledges, needs people to keep questioning it and the subjects it deals with. 

 

In some ways in Perry's initial resisting the arts establishment only to have now become part of it derives from his own experiences and so I wonder if his central polemic of, ‘anyone can enjoy art’ and explanations for doing so is lost if the audience that would have most to gain from hearing this message is also the least likely audience to be reading a book on art. At least through his determined, angst ridden acceptance into the art world, Perry has become more widely known, dare I say, more ‘popular’ and in being broadcast on Radio 4 reached a wider audience than what it would have in book format alone? Clearly even more if it had been aired on the X factor! Although I often wonder if everyone accepted and understood art then would it still be art? Or would it somehow loose its mystery or its pompousness and in its familiarity become dull or breed contempt? Maybe art's greatest asset, its key to longevity is the search to understanding it...?Instead of trying to make sense of it all I suppose I should try to embrace art in its many contradictions, challenges and on-going changes as they're the reasons I still want to find out more. An extra addition to the book is that it contains several amusing cartoons drawn by Perry that dryly illustrate some of the opinions in the book, but above all it reads like any good lecture should, it informs you, it provokes you, it amuses you and ultimately it lifts you,

 

"At this point I may risk a dark sincerity. I feel it is a noble thing to be an artist. You're a pilgrim on the road to meaning."

 

My own dark sincerity is that despite how good it was I haven't listened to Radio 4 since, but I have continued to make and see a whole lot of art.

 

Yello from Liverpool

This year’s Liverpool Biennial is very yellow and no, not yellow submarine yellow, just yellow everywhere yellow! From the yellow themed marketing and banners adorning the city, a yellow and white themed exhibition space curated and designed by French architect Claude Parent at the Tate Liverpool, the yellow fabric canopy and beige walls in an exhibition of Whistler’s etchings at the Bluecoat (don’t let the gallery name fool you, it’s currently yellow inside!), the yellow painted decaying walls of the former Blind School on Hardman Street to the Biennial name itself, ‘A needle walks into a haystack’ (haystacks being yellow). Is it intentional, is it a conspiracy or is it all a dream.... maybe I’ve got some weird yellow synaesthesia, jaundice or yellow fever. Who knows?

Now in its eighth year the 2014 Liverpool Biennial has a central exhibition curated by Mai Abu ElDahab and Anthony Huberman and four solo shows taking place over sixteen weeks, presenting work from national and international artists past and present in museums, galleries and spaces across the city. All of it is free to visitors and runs alongside its partner exhibitions, the John Moores painting prize and Bloomberg New Contemporaries (from Sept 20^th). 2014 marks my fifth Liverpool Biennial, it is a date on the art calendar that I look forward to every two years and I absolutely love it!

Judith Hopf 'Flock of Sheep' (2013) at 'Needle walks into a haystack'

You will be forgiven for being distracted by the walls, ceiling, doors and floor around the painting.

 

The highlight of the Liverpool Biennial’s for me is the opportunity to explore the city itself. The exhibitions are temporary and (aside from the museum/gallery venues) are often shown in abandoned, decaying and disused buildings making no two Biennials the same. Previous venues have included an old postal sorting office, pubs, factories, theatres, offices, churches and shops. Equipped with a Biennial map finding these places and then navigating their many staircases, halls, dimly-lit walkways, basements and rooms can often feel more like urban exploration than an art exhibition. This is a double-edged sword for Liverpool itself as it brings in tourism but also highlights some of the neglect of its inner city buildings in stark contrast to the multi-million pound shopping district.  The Biennial showcases these spaces, gives them new use and new life, forcing these disused spaces not to go ignored. These spaces are consequently later turned into flats, halls of residence or offices (it’s debatable whether this is in fact a good thing or not). Overall it does act as a positive case study for urban renewal generated by art and artists unlocking the potential/opening-up these disused, neglected spaces. If they could be invested in to preserve the history and character of these buildings, in my opinion, would be better under artist's use rather than demolishing in order to rebuild.

I admit that I find the architecture, mouldy walls, peeling paint, period features and loose parquet floorboards somewhat of a more captivating distraction from looking at the art itself. The old Blind School and former Trades Union Centre in this year’s Biennial is a particular example of this. Exhibiting the work of seventeen artists I often found their work over shadowed by the effortlessness beauty present in the surfaces of the walls created by the natural wear, decay and use over many years (enviable to anyone who has ever tried recreate them). The building itself is a rabbit warren of rooms, corridors and staircases that all somehow intersect and fold back on each other without you even noticing (disappointingly this building is due to become a block of flats so see it whilst you can). Still, I wouldn’t be there if not for the art and neither would I linger so long looking at the work if not for viewing it in the context of this remarkable space.

One of several staircases at the Blind School in Liverpool

I’m a bit sceptical at the blurb, ‘a needle walks into a haystack is an exhibition about our habits, habitats, and the objects, images, relationships and activities that constitute our immediate surroundings. It is about effecting larger questions facing contemporary life and art, from an intimate and tangible scale that’s within everyday reach.’ Or in other words, ‘this exhibition could be about anything’ instead of trying to be more specific, I'd say they've left it very broad, open and up to interpretation.  The problem with this is that when an exhibition tries to be all encompassing it actually ends up being about nothing and is difficult to grasp its overall theme/meaning. Researching after seeing the exhibition it is supposedly a show about 'our everyday routines and how they can become disrupted', but this was sort of lost on me at the time. If you can cast that worry aside you’ll still find lots of interesting works such as Paul Watchler's amusing and honest animation of a pair of crutches sliding through the mud as it complains, lost in an internal monologue of misery and Judith Hopf's sculptures of bronze tree branches, coiled rope and sheep that encroach and interact within the building well animating the space rather than being placed within it; Rana Hamadeh's powerful, interactive and theatrical installation of props and sound reinterpreting a case study of the Shiite ritual of Ashura is intense and challenging to experience. There are sadly too many not so inspiring paintings in the exhibition, but I won't dwell on those.

William Leavitt 'Arctic Earth' (2014) at 'Needle walks into a haystack'

Peter Watchler's animation of a pair of crutches sliding across a muddy terrain whilst ranting in a fit of despair at 'Needle walks into a haystack'

Marc Bauer 'in June Bauer decided to move his studio into a dingy hotel in Liverpool, where he thought he could potentially become part of the story of the place, Marc draws and re-draws the images he finds in his own personal materials.' These small drawings were fairly linear in their meaning, but I was interested by what Bauer had to say about the process and 'need' to draw which was displayed on the wall alongside these images, "I draw and I forget everything. I have to do it everyday, and this routine brings me freedom. I can create a world on the sheet of paper, something to submerge myself in. I had an epiphany about which direction to follow, but in a way it's too late; I can only follow the logic of the drawing. There is a thin line I have to preserve, I don't know where it leads me."

There are still more surprises that this exhibition and building have to offer that I have refrained from showing in this post, as discovering them for yourself is really rewarding and exciting.

Elsewhere the Tate Liverpool has an exhibition featuring the work from artists like, Naum Gabo, Edward Wadsworth and Francis Picabia in a unique environment designed by Claude Parent. Taking the form of ramps, balconies, walkways and netting the architect attempts to create new awareness in how we view and engage with individual artworks in response to their surroundings. The whole thing looks like a Naum Gabo sculpture crossed with a futuristic skate park, the ideas of which are reflected in the choice of artists presented within this space. More incredible architectural shapes can be found in the newly opened Liverpool Central Library which is a stunning, curved modern space with an exhibition from Japanese artist in residence, Aiko Miyanaga. Miyanaga has taken the reading room as her site to install several pieces of work in the form of resin and napthalene casts of books, keys and tonks (little square metal plates used to hold library shelves) which are presented in piles or hiding in drawers. All a bit cliché for my liking, but I was glad to visit the library itself.

Aiko Miyanaga at Liverpool Central Library

Carlos Cruiz-Diez 'Dazzle Ship' (2014) Canning Graving Dock

On the whole, I thought this year’s Biennial was much smaller than previous years with far fewer outdoor commissions and events. I wonder if this is an affect from the arts cuts nationally? Interestingly the work in the Biennial doesn't really comment on its own economic situation or respond to the devastating cuts directly. This makes the overall tone of the Biennial (apart from being ‘yellow’) quite cautious, often avoiding the politics of the present by referring to the past as a way of presenting ‘postmodern’ ideas or thinking; the main outdoor commission being Carlos Cruz-Diez’s Dazzle ship, a homage to Norman Wilkinson and Edward Wadsworth’s camouflage technique; an exhibition of the American born painter, James McNeill Whistler’s work shown because he was an artist who challenged the art community, was greatly concerned with how his art was received and considered the entire exhibition space as an environment not limited to the work itself and two retrospectives of  Belgium documentary filmmaker , Jef Cornelis and painter/poet Adrian Henri, active in the pop art, music and performance scene in Liverpool during the 60s and 70s. These artists are being shown as their ideas and ways of working are relevant to today’s ways of working. I stress that these are good exhibitions, Whistler’s etchings of Venice and Adrian Henri’s Raushenberg-inspired combine paintings are worth seeing alone but in terms of what they bring to the Biennial as a whole feels too much a representing of old ideas. Fine in moderation, but there is a lot of it in this Biennial. The most challenging and interesting work to be found is in the Old Blind School group exhibition (and potentially the Bloomberg New Contemporaries, but it isn’t open yet), whereas in previous Biennials there was much more on offer in the way of spectacle, ambition, imagination and a looking to the present and future rather than the past. This year’s Biennial is good but lacking in bite.

Rodrigo Moynihan 'The Shelf, Objects and Shadows -Front View' (1982-3) at Tate Liverpool
What can say, I like this painting. It reminds me of a more precise Morandi, Andre Derain or Chardin. Part of the exhibition at the Tate that explores themes of domesticity, routine and the domestic environment. I should have loved this exhibition but it was all a bit 'same old', featuring Richard Artschwager, Kurt Schwitters, Richard Wentworth, Susan Hiller and others as well as one too many Patrick Caulfield's even for my liking. The greatest surprise in this exhibition was a series of woven rugs by Francis Bacon when he was an interior designer, I honestly never knew!  

Other Liverpool highlights include this, an exhibition of artist, Rutherford Chang's 1000 first pressings of The Beatles vinyl White Album. The exhibition located in a former record store (right next door and part of FACT) was an exciting surprise that reaffirmed why the city itself is always the highlight of the Biennial. Every album subtly different, its cover described by the artist, as 'the perfect canvas' marked with the use, coffee stains and wear from its previous owner(s) since its release in 1968. Some have been drawn or painted on, others including lyrics, dedications and more. This is a great piece of social history for what is an iconic album both musically and for its design. I really enjoyed looking at them.  http://www.fact.co.uk/projects/we-buy-white-albums.aspx

Critics have accused the Biennial as being bleak, understandable if you look at the exhibition of photographs documenting protests at the Venice Biennale in 1968 at Open Eye Gallery and Sharon Lockhart’s films shown at FACT, documenting the play of several children in Poland, oblivious to the dilapidated city/poverty they find themselves in. However, there is much humour and wit to be had too, largely in the group show at the Blind School building. It is still relevant and great fun to explore with some inspiring work on show. My criticism is that as in previous years the Biennial could afford to be bigger, braver,  more challenging and well, just a whole lot less yella!

The Liverpool Biennial 2014 is on until 26th October

http://www.biennial.com/

For what its Wirth

Rumour long foretold of an affluent, prestigious, world-class, contemporary art gallery whose arrival in a small rural town in Somerset was going to bring much joy, prosperity and branded re-useable tote bags throughout the vale. Its name, Hauser and Wirth and we had all been waiting with great expectation for the opening of its latest gallery in Bruton, Somerset this summer. Sharing its name with its other established galleries in London, New York and Zurich, Bruton might not seem like the obvious place for a commercial city-based gallery to set up, but with a gap in the art map that sees Bristol and Bath already hosting our largest contemporary art centres, there was perhaps an opportunity to establish some of the arts market elsewhere. And as the Somerset creative community have already proved, we don’t let being rural get in our way and continue to ensure, ‘there’s art in them thar hills’, often whether people love it/want it, support it or not! Maybe it is our resilience superseded only by our beautiful scenery that inspired the owners of Hauser and Wirth to bring a slice of the city to our middle of nowhere! (or possibly that the gallery’s owners send their children to school in Bruton?... although I prefer  to think it was a bit of both)    

Whatever the reason, Hauser and Wirth's arrival provides a fantastic opportunity to form new links between Somerset and the national/international contemporary art world as well as encouraging more tourism to the area. Now nearly a month has passed since it first opened its doors to the public I went to visit and find out for myself if it all really was ‘wirth’ the wait (forgive the puns, I can’t help myself!)

Subodh Gupta's 'Untitled' (2008) stainless steel bucket in the courtyard of Durslade Farm.

 

Set in the grounds of Durslade Farm, (a former piggery, barns and stables around a central courtyard) Hauser and Wirth boasts five gallery spaces equating to a total 2483 square meters, a one and a half acre meadow garden designed by Piet Oudolf, education rooms, studio spaces and Bar/Bistro.  It is hard to find fault as it is, all without question, beautiful. The standards of design, detail are high from the practical layout of the car-park to courtyard entrance complete with its own outdoor sculptures; a giant stainless steel bucket by Subodh Gupta and humongous bronze by Paul McCarthy (amongst others) to the gallery rooms themselves which feature both contemporary white-walls and spaces where they have retained the original barn features, beams and brick walls. The bar and grill is one of the gallery’s unique highlights and features a bar made from a mêlée of scavenged materials from railway tracks and fragmented paintings on wood with an equally impressive cloakroom, described as ‘a unique installation’ made from industrial lockers and paint cans. I assume it is there to be used...?

Paul McCarthy's 'Ship of Fools, Ship Adrift' (2009-2010) Bronze. 

 

Although this perfection comes at a cost too and I fear its ‘middle-class chic’ could brand Hauser and Wirth Somerset as a place stereotyped to the well-off, retired/middle aged or readers of Country Living magazine. There is nothing wrong with any of those groups per say, as they do make a significant majority of the audiences that view/invest in art in the county (and indeed I have my suspicions they are one of the target audiences Hauser and Wirth are looking to attract, after all they are a commercial gallery) however even though I have studied and seen much art in my modest 27 years, I still felt slight trepidation created by the air of fanciness at Hauser and Wirth, as though such a place was not for the likes of me, that my worthiness of being there was somehow dependant on how many interior design books I owned and kept on my Ikea coffee table (the answer is none by the way, I don’t even own a coffee table!). This was, in part a misconception that was soon dispelled by the friendliness of the staff. I did just come to 'see the art', but as this post proves I often find the context of the art world more distracting in than that of the art work itself.

 

I predict that attracting a wide variety of audiences is Hauser and Wirth Somerset’s greatest challenge (and one that, notably, is shared by many other arts institutions) especially now they are unable to rely on the passing footfall of their naturally busy city venues, this rural and remote gallery will need to ensure that they make an effort to attract and not isolate a wide variety of audiences through its doors (a few road signs to it wouldn’t go amiss either!?) Hauser and Wirth has been successful and got off to a good start in the way it hasn’t just muscled its way into this community simply by throwing its wealth around, it has employed local builders, artists, residents and looked to the local town’s businesses for support and partnership. At present it seems that they are achieving a diverse audience in having learning/events programmes as well as residences with local artists that look to engage with the wider community. I can only hope this is sustained and grown upon in the opening months as it continues to live up-to its reputation and forge new links within the South West.

Louise Bourgeois 'Spider' (1994) Bronze, silver nitrate and brown patina, granite.

 

Its danger of inclusivity could also be helped by the omission of some of its rules which are handed to you on an information sheet on arrival. It feels a bit unnecessarily protective and a negative way to welcome visitors, ‘Please do not drop litter’ being one inane example. I’m not saying you shouldn’t have rules; I am perfectly mature enough understand the sense of not dropping litter or need to protect thousands of pounds of artwork from the onslaught of many fingers poking it, but if anything fills me with a mischievous sense of anarchism it’s when rules are created at the expense of trusting/assuming people have any common sense.  Broadly speaking, it does highlight the problem with Art gallery’s dictum of wanting more people to engage and interact with them/ understand them, being met by their contradictory set of ‘Don'ts’, “we want you to come into our gallery but whilst your here could you engage with the art only by just looking at it, talking’s ok, just don’t do it too loudly and make sure you don’t run, touch, climb, photograph anything but we hope you’ve had an immersive experience.” Perhaps it is unfair of me to vocalise this concern in a post about Hauser and Wirth when it is an issue that affects many arts institutions. I just think that Hauser and Wirth can only seek to gain and would not damage their image of being a professional gallery, by relaxing some of their rules, trusting the general public and their gallery stewards to protect the work. Relax a little!

 

Phyllida Barlow 'Untitled Gig' (2014) Fabric, paper, cord.

 

The opening exhibition was always in danger of being over shadowed by the gallery itself, however an excellent decision to choose sculptor Phylidda Barlow, whose work could easily compete for attention, made a grand opening impression. Her bold/colourful, mixed media (often suspended) installed sculptures do a fantastic job at both invading, if not dominating the space as they do at drawing your attention to the gallery’s architecture and potential.  In some instances they actually block and act like obstacles that have to be navigated either through or around the edges of the room. This is intentional by the artist whose work is, I think, also incredibly playful being both abstract and looking-like objects such as chairs, megaphones, machinery and pompoms. Barlow makes use of strips of coloured fabric, rope, polystyrene, modroc, cardboard and other inexpensive or everyday materials which she manipulates on a large scale in response to the space (think Arte Povera). For me, Barlow’s work is interesting in that it tricks you into being unsure how to determine the weight or density of her work, of which I’ve also seen some of in the Venice Biennale; and appears weighty/heavy in its mass (due to its often large scale) but light at the same time (due to the airy materials she uses). They are quite rhythmical and dynamic in their compositions as well reminding me of paintings by Vorticists, like Wyndham Lewis and looking at them I feel tempted to take a photo so as to flatten them into these remarkable 2-D compositions so I can be aware of the many different works created by viewing it from different angles. Undoubtedly in my mind, it was a bold opening first exhibition that will have created an impact without being too controversial, conceptual or particularly challenging. Perhaps a safe bet, but then it would do no good in alienating people on the opening of its first exhibition.

 

Phyllida Barlow 'Untitled: Grinder' (2014) Plywood, paint.

 

Good things do come to those who wait as Hauser and Wirth Somerset certainly proves. For me personally I find it all a bit similar to the Damien Hirst affect in Ilfracombe. Hauser and Wirth, like Hirst, has the will, the professional business knowledge and money that are needed to fund what are ambitious and impressive galleries, fill them with international art and bring them to these remote rural areas of the South West. However, in order to thrive they must be supported by the public and continue to work with local organisations and local artists; many whom have lived and worked in these areas sustaining the arts for a long time and have equally long had the ambition, the knowledge and desire to do similar things but have struggled to develop under lack of funding or been eradicated completely due to the 2010 Arts Cuts. It is vital that they work together.  Hauser and Wirth Somerset is a great asset and more importantly than the place itself is the impact it will have on the surrounding area, what it may breed and inspire...only time will tell.

Phyllida Barlow's 'Gig' is on at Hauser and Wirth Somerset until 2nd November 2014.

For more details please visit: www.hauserandwirthsomerset.com

What's the word?

If there was a message saying, ‘you will write about this exhibition' at 'Barber Kruger', Modern Art Oxford, then it was subliminal.  

 

 Wandering through one of the text-filled installations that Barbara Kruger is synonymous for, immersed in the overwhelming scale of the black, white and green text that ran floor to ceiling in the main room of MAO I felt worryingly desensitised to the whole experience.  I say worryingly given the fact that a fellow visitor, of more elderly years, was so affected by the floor to ceiling bombardment of text and slogans that he tentatively stumbled, as though unsure of where the floor had gone, disorientated by the whole experience. For myself, perhaps being from a generation that has been more subjected to the bombardment of images, words and communication that are also faster and more readily available than ever before, it is harder for printed text to have impact, a victim of its familiarity. This is not to say that Barbara Kruger’s work has completely lost its impact, as the current exhibition of the artist’s work at Modern Art Oxford aims to prove, but it is possibly in danger in the digital age of news, advertising and social media of becoming more familiar, less hard hitting than what it once was.

 

Emerging from America in the early 1960’s Kruger made her impression on the art world with her adaptation of advertising language and imagery which she used as a social commentator and political agitator to provoke questions about assumed viewpoints on capitalism or femininity through graphic media of text and image. From a background in graphic design, working for a small independent women’s magazine her art work often favoured the red, white and black (like the tabloids) featuring often classical or iconic imagery that she juxtaposed with contradictory or perception altering text. Her wit and edginess ironically perhaps saw her slogans becoming commoditised into bags (‘I shop therefore I am’) and reproduced as posters turning them into some of the most recognised images from the pop art era.

 

Certainly the large installation at MAO is almost too much to take in making it so that any message, any meaning that the words may have on the walls/floor are lost in the noise of a hundred other messages all shouting for your attention at the same time. Perhaps this is the point, that there is a loss of anything meaningful and words become mere shapes, formal components in a space when you have too many things competing with each other at once? The most successful use of text in the main installation, as it has the most affect, is the word ‘JOYFUL’ in huge letters filling the wall you enter in. It’s simple and works well in drawing your attention to the height, space and shape of the room, (which is described as ‘cathedral-like’) but if anything is more intimidating in its authority in size, that is more bossy than actually encouraging any genuine feelings of joy. Personally, I think this is quite reflective of how most advertising works in the sense it presents a good-thing and forces you to like it clouding your own judgement as to whether you really need it or not.Well worth watching as well is the impressive and mesmerising feat of how the work was installed in a short time-lapse film.    

 

 

 

For me though, Kruger’s smaller works have more to say and impact than the more superficial room installation. A simple observation of, bigger is not necessarily better is evident in the example, 'Your Misery Loves Company' where the juxtaposition of a dentist’s drill and wording, ‘Your Misery Loves Company’ is much more unnerving, hard-hitting and lasts in memory more than anything in the installation. Some of the messages in these works may have lost their relevance over time but their ability to have impact has not.  Her directness to mass audiences and ability to provoke/challenge using words and strong graphic imagery has influence that makes up some of the fundamentals of street art; one example being Shepard Fairey’s Obey posters and iconic Obama Hope poster. Kruger’s work was one of the significant players in taking the familiar language/media of advertising and newsprint and subverting it to create new meaning. More recently artists such as 2012 Turner Prize winner Elizabeth Price use Kruger influenced text and image in film montage to great success. The interesting question now, is where Kruger’s work sits today, with, as I’ve already alluded to, more modern/digital forms of communication and less use of print?

The answer can be found in Kruger’s most recent pieces where the artist has used film. They also make up the more relevant and interesting pieces of the exhibition. ‘Plenty LA’ from 2008 flashes the word ‘enough’ at the viewer repeatedly amongst still and moving images of sunsets, a handbag, car with a smashed bonnet and ‘bling’ encrusted mobile phone; a direct Kruger-esque comment on consumerism, whilst in ‘Twelve’ faces are projected on the walls argue with one another (about relationships from what I gathered), their real thoughts read across the bottom of the screen like news coverage. This work is more topical in its use of modern technology and its use of a reality TV-style of drama or dialogue that has come full circle from being first intended to present a view of reality to now in fact being completely unreal in its superficial-ness.  The viewer enters awkwardly into the middle of these arguments that feel at once staged and fake but believably real at the same time. It is an observant and is a slightly troubling comment on our current society that we chose to trust the authenticity of the news reel text as to the spoken words of the actors, but this is what Kruger does best. In ‘Twelve’ she takes a familiar mode of presentation used in the media, the news reel and subverts it into manipulating how, in this case we respond to what is a very social/domestic situation. It is far more subtle than her printed work from the sixties and therefore accurately demonstrates the change in media/advertising to becoming more subliminal.

 

New and fans to Kruger’s work will get the most out of this exhibition that for me, acts more as a retrospective than being completely  fresh or ‘of the moment’. I don’t think this is entirely Kruger’s fault, but more that her message that once protruded so edgily on the walls of modern art galleries or shopping bags now feels too accepted and familiar to remain that provocative. Your modern-day Kruger is now more likely to be found tagging a subversive message on the wall of a public building or generating some of the many political satire games/images that pop-up on blogs, forums and Facebook pages, they’ll be creating flash mobs, guerrilla knitting and attempting to go viral with videos and tweets that raise question to accepted normalities. Such is the plight in the age of uncertainty they probably won’t even call themselves artists.

 

Barbara Kruger is on at Modern Art Oxford until August 31^st 2014.

http://www.modernartoxford.org.uk/whats-on/barbara-kruger/about/

 

Images from: http://www.spruethmagers.com/exhibitions/248@@viewq1

http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2014/jul/06/barbara-kruger-modern-art-oxford-review

Kitsch you like...

As a bookseller it is my sworn duty to from time-to-time inform you of some of the lesser-known marvels/oddities in the world of books...

In that tradition and as a bit of fun following on from last week's Art School related post, I found an old copy of a manga set in an Art School in Japan. Yes it seems that there really is a manga for almost everything making it in some ways unsurprising to find one set around the highs and lows of studying art (because who wants to read about monsters, martial arts or robots when you can go to art school?!)

None-the-less it is still pretty weird in its extremely kitsch, exaggerated and humorous take on what ordinarily should be a fairly mundane topic (although anyone who has studied art will tell you in reality it is anything but  mundane or uneventful). Manga, Anime and Japanese culture has an amazing ability to take almost any profession, lifestyle or activity and make it cute, quirky or interesting (think 'Harvest Moon' for farming). You only need to look at the amount of time/detail given to everyday activities such as preparing food in virtually any anime to realise this. The more mundane it seems the better and a refreshing difference to the attention grabbing pace of a majority of Western animation.

 G.A is sublimely silly, don't expect anything deeply revealing in what is more a comedy of relationships and mannerisms that happens to be set in an art school. Peppered with tips and facts on paints, colour mixing and drawing materials younger readers would probably learn something too, its the sort of book I would have loved as a kid (and in many ways still do!). The whole thing is far sweeter, cuter and innocent than the real thing but that doesn't take away from the occasional amusing, true-to-life observation that makes reading it worthwhile.  

And if you really enjoy it there's a whole series!

Another brick in the bookcase

Ah the perils of working in a bookshop. In between the day to day mishaps and writing my next blog post I came across (actually it sort-of interrupted things) a brilliant book, 'Art School: Propositions for the 21st Century'. Bringing together a collection of essays, interviews and case studies from Arts institutions, arts educators, critics, former students, curators and artists around the world it is the perfect read to dive in and out of and as I have found already, contains some magnificent, inspiring and accurately insightful observations/ideas that extend beyond the thinking that this is a book primarily concerned with 'teaching' or 'education'.

Everywhere you read and virtually everyone you talk to about arts education at the moment has a pretty bleak view on its future. 'Things are most definitely not what as they once were!' Simply the way art is taught (if you are among the few who believe it can be 'taught' at all) seems to require an approach that is more experience driven/unique to the more conventional sides of teaching and perhaps has therefore unjustly suffered (despite a long fought resistance) in the hands of those who don't understand it; often perceived for its being at odds when forced to comply with more institutionalised ways of educating instead of being supported/understood in its own right. Where some open minded institutions may adapt and thrive under the pressure to conform, narrow minded management on top of squandered resources escalated with cuts in arts funding nationally have been met with an increasing anxiety that has seen many arts establishments buckle. The emergence of independent art schools and artist-led art schools in response to these failings, backed by the growing student dissatisfaction spurred by increases in tuition fees is in some ways unsurprising and raises the important debate that there is a considerable, valid and perhaps long overdue need for reviewing how future generations of artists will be nurtured. 

I think these are issues that affect all artists, particularly those considering or beginning their art education but also to those who have been through these experiences already and/or continue to work with these institutions. How the concept of the art school evolves, reinvents itself over the next few years, I speculate will have impact on where our innovative thinkers/makers come from, how we value art (in the broadest sense of the word), where will we cultivate/inspire future generations of artists and how art proliferates to work with other disciplines. Without having read the whole thing yet I think this book goes someway at offering some potential solutions those questions.

Personally, I am still trying to unravel the mysteries of my own art education that continue to have impact on my thinking and decision making in and outside whether I am making art or not, whether I am successful in my art pursuits or not.  It is one of those rare experiences, of the kind that tend to stick with you and influence who you are and how you react to life's situations.

I've had to put posts on Bill Viola and Matisse on hold for now, as it seemed all too important and exciting not to share some of the things I read...

1) The following is one of the best quotes I have found about how I felt in the transition between my formal art education and 'being an artist' in the real world, so to speak:

‘Artists undertake to transform themselves continuously through their practices and throughout their working lives. For an artist there can be no separation from being someone and learning to become someone. The reason to continue to be an artist lies in an everyday rediscovery of what remains to be said or done. Being an artist is no different from learning to become an artist. The process of rediscovery of what it is that he or she needs to do transforms the artist on an everyday basis. The horizons of the artist’s self continuously expand to take in the incremental unravelling of what the artist still desires to inscribe on his or her consciousness and the attention of the world.

The day that an artist realizes that his or her stock of things left to think about and to do has depleted to a point where it measures less than what has been done already , the artist might as well stop practicing. This means that in order to continue working, the artist learns to constantly prepare for the unknown, for what remains to be done. An artist’s education is never finished. School is never out. ‘ –Raqs Media Collective ‘How to be an artist by night’

The whole essay is excellent too and can be read via the following link:

http://www.aaronvandyke.net/summer_readings/Raqs_How_to_be_txt.pdf

2) It is worth reading this piece in its entirety created by students as Columbia University and reads as a list of creative, observational, political, environmental, social, architectural, strategic proposals for an imaginary potential art school. Factors such as historical context, geography, funding, power relationships, infrastructure, facilities and institutional relationships were considered as terms for generating ideas. I certainly found several things to be very reflective of my own experiences and many others which I thought would be welcome/beneficial additions to current art school programmes.  Extremely thought provoking, self contradictory, silly, entertaining, serious, imaginative, honest and poignant...come to think of it a lot like art! This is the sort of reading that should be compulsory for anyone within the institution of art education; managers, tutors and students alike and for those artists, like myself who still look back in wonder as they continue to make sense of it all.

Nobody asked you to do nothing /a potential school

Report prepared in November 2007
At Columbia University, School of the Arts, Graduate studio program.
Liam Gillick

http://www.deutscher-pavillon.org/2009/pdf_gillick/School.pdf

 NB: This isn't the entire version. I edited it out to include the main points, but stress its worth reading it all. Alternatively highlighted in orange are the few points I particularly enjoyed, if you don't have the time!

Things will be out of sync. There will be a large sauna. The edge will be perceived from the inside and outside simultaneously. The idea of boundary pushing will remain. There will be lots more bicycles. Some surprising things will be free. There will be more difference. There will still be a studio problem. There will be big sheds. There will still be a sense that one is forced to find an activity. Delusion will remain. The question will remain, what kind of space are we in? ...There will remain a focus upon the idea of students choice. This will remain an incomplete project. There will be many places to sleep. There will be showers on demand. There will be the possibility of collective action. There may well be citizen artists. There will be a free, or progressive tuition scale (increasing expense with duration of attendance). There will definitely be massages from trusted people.... There will be a sense that there is less structure. ...Some things will be more mobile. Some people will be more migratory. Some effects will remain local... Some structures will be disintegrated. There will be fewer clear representations of power within the hierarchy of the place. There will be no possibility of an architecture that clearly expresses relationships. ... There will still have to be a building. ...In the manner of pre-schools there will be reading lofts and soft places to rest. ...Incomprehensible wealth will circle the school. There will be no equilibrium...Who is them will remain a reasonable question...There will be a reduction of appropriateness. There will be an increase in duration. Some will explore the potential of every possible resource. There will be large scale 3-dimensional printers, and scanners. Full time computer programmers will be available at all times. Student status will remain unclear. There will be even more examination of the idea of the university as a concept. An increasing attempt will be made to ensure an infection of disciplines by those who attend the school. Concrete, wood and water will be combined in most of the buildings and structures. Large terraces will be covered in plants. The structure will be located near the ocean. Composting will be used as a method of production. ..There will be a permanent thesis show. A cumulative thesis shows will continue forever with work being added every year. There will be a frustrated desire for consistent knowledge from the beginning of the year. There will be an encouragement of non-directed energy. Attempts will be made to create lots of seemingly arbitrary rules. There will be internal openness combined with public reticence. Friendly qualities will endure. Viewing ports will be suggested but the idea that they are cut into studio walls will be rejected. There will be a well loved swimming pool. There will be an abandoned climbing wall. Water will become the most popular meeting place. ...The studio will be a location of desire but some people will fight against this. Some people will dream of the creation of an honest nostalgia. There will be many spaces that produce incomprehension. Role playing will be discouraged. Repetition will be impossible. Someone will always doing something every day. There will be designated moments when you are there on your own, and you know it. Clear times when you alone are allowed in the building. There will develop the option of manual labour, students can clean the windows, dig drainage ditches and package chewing gum. A big experimental Greenhouse will be donated to the place by an anonymous benefactor. Animals will roam free and cause problems from time to time...Confrontation with past desires will be accepted as a normal part of life. New relationships with service will produce a new understanding of obligations. There will be places to jump around and wrestle. 4-dimensional studies will become a well-loved fable from the past. Personal relationships will multiply. Claustrophobia will not exist. Gaps in between shallowness and repetition will expand and fill the world with a whole new kind of artistic production. Teachers working alongside the students will forget to teach. Ghost towns will proliferate. Students choosing staff choosing students choosing staff will replace each other in perpetuity. Lectures in foreign languages with no translation will become the most popular event of the week. The institution will declare its politics and people will wait for the statements with eager anticipation. Statements of position in the society will be greeted with warm condescension. Collectivity as an assumption will no longer need to be questioned. Social status and hierarchy within the culture will no longer have any effect on what is produced but will still be understood. No mission statements will exist outside the ancient archives of the place. A description of whatʼs what will start each morning. Starting again every two years will mean that there is no them and us. No overlaps will be accepted. Keep asking what is collectivity even if nobody cares and you will be thrown out. Once accepted, you will stay, for a long time, but the faculty will change every year. Beta-testing rights for all things will become the norm. A strong graphic sensibility for all outside communication will become standard practice. Who is responsible will be the question of the day. Set something in motion will never be just for its own sake. The observation deck will be broad and wide and show a vast panorama. Planning will be a necessity. Populism will be excused. Good cases and bad cases will create a new language. Cultural importation will increase. Dispersal will endure. Open access will be the cause of many arguments... There will be no institutional furniture. Custom built databases and permanent data managers will be as common as their absence today. Drinks trolleys will be everywhere and regularly get restocked. Leakage will remain a problem. Speed of production will cause arguments. Suspended judgement will no longer be a defence. Interest from others will be the source of contentment. Continuing regardless will be viewed as a crime...Democracy and non-democracy of space will considered at the start of each year. Abuse of space will be encouraged. Uniforms will be optional. It will feel as if unicorns are about to return. There will be lots of different buildings...Orchards will bloom. The potential for growth will be suspended. The department of rhetoric and announcements will hold people at bay. No-one will feel qualified to develop a curriculum. Secondary production techniques will be encouraged. Large roaring fires will frame places of thought. An infinite number of departments will be established to represent the diverse interests of the place. A place to play music will be maintained and well loved. No painting will take place, but not because anyone prevents it....Instant mythology will flourish. The question of when should things finish will become a distant memory? An extensive program of field trips and events will take place before anyone gets up. Traces of these journeys will remain in the stories of the drivers.

An end to the tale...

A quick bit of important news that I neglected to mention until now. On Tuesday 20th of May 2014 I was one of 86 artists who donated an A5 artwork to be auctioned for Musgrove Park Hospital's, Art for Life, 'Art on the Block' fundraising event.

 

In total, the combined artworks raised £7350!

 

 

My block (pictured here) of 'Herman' the chameleon sold for £80.

 

The money will go towards, 'enhancing the patient environment at Musgrove Park Hospital which might be through workshops with patients, improving a neglected area or an artwork that brings a smile to someone’s face.'

 

Those of you following my blog will also know that in addition to our block, Orchard Shopping Centre donated the pigs myself and Michael Fairfax rescued from rotting to be auctioned at the same event. Full details found here: http://spannerintheworkz.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/piggybacking-art-on-block-2014.html.

 

The good news is that instead of being left to rot another day, the pigs made £560. My Pigsaw going for £210 and Michael's Polden Pig going for £340.

 

Thank you to everyone who made a bid and/or bought an art work at the event.

 

A big THANK YOU is also long over due to Marika Sterry Marketing and Events Coordinator of The Orchard Shopping Centre, Tim Martin,  Candice Dean and those who worked at making the project happen in its origins. Thanks as well go to Emma Quick from Art for Life who allowed us to 'Piggy back' onto their event which has ended in the pigs going to good homes and raise money for a fantastic local arts cause!

 

And that, brings an end to our tale.