Showing posts with label Phyllida Barlow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Phyllida Barlow. Show all posts

Friday, 7 July 2017

Viva Venezia!

This post is not intended to be read from start to finish [though by all means please do so if you feel inclined] but is a visual snapshot of my own personal highlights from this year’s Venice Biennale 2017. In its 57th year and featuring artists from all over the world, this year’s central exhibition ‘Viva Arte Viva’ goes some way in proving that art is indeed ‘not dead’. The sublime, the ridiculous, the poetic and the political, there really is MUCH to be inspired by. Presented here are 16 of those artworks/pavilions some of which can be seen across the city for free and others within the ticketed Giardini and Arsenale Biennale sites themselves. Enjoy!

The Venice Biennale is on until 26th November 2017, for further info visit: http://www.labiennale.org/en/Home.html    


Britain – Phyllida Barlow ‘Folly’
It is difficult not to smile when first encountering Barlow’s work; colourful, larger than life, every piece installed within each space in a different way. I first saw Barlow’s work on a scale such as this at Hauser and Wirth in Bruton when it first opened in 2014. Her treatment of the British pavilion does not disappoint, columns in the central disrupt how viewers negotiate the room, followed by wracks of stained cloth, more tubes, blobs infiltrate the space outside and stacked boulder-like fabrications make up this ambitious and playful offering from the British artist now in her 70s. That play soon becomes more threatening however, as viewers have to squeeze past and lean around the gallery rooms, forced to alter their route by the sheer scale of some of these pieces and that they often occupy the walls, leaning outwards, other times suspended or simply plonked as a giant mod-rock clad obstruction. There is a lot of recycling and use of cheap readily available materials in her work that makes it feel exciting and accessible in the way she sees potential and use in such everyday things. If shape, form, colour, texture, volume are some of the ways we aesthetically perceive sculpture then Folly is an excellent example of what sculpture can offer.

 
Romania – Geta Brătescu ‘Apparitions’*

In what looks like a retrospective of the Romanian artist’s work since the 1960s, Geta Brătescu’s drawings, collages, engravings, tapestries, objects, photographs and experimental film are displayed in the Romanian Pavillion at the Giardini. Spanning themes of ‘the studio’ and ‘space within-it’ along with reflections on female subjectivity; there is rather a lot to see. She studied both art and literature, evident in references of both in her work, one example being a series of drawings based on Faust. “In Brătescu’s practice the real, physical space meshes with the inner, intimate space and becomes part of the sphere of art....exploring phenomenology –her own hands...tension between the representational and non representational.” It made me think of outsider art in the way that it felt so personal, its quantity the product of obsession –this is a person finding things out about themselves and their context through making and doing on a prolific scale. I thought the hand drawings were exquisite and admired their difference to the loser, more expressive drawings. That duality interests me as it is something I am often at conflict with in my own work.

 
Israel   – Gal Weinstein ‘Sun Stand Still’
“Weinstein critically explores the mythological and Romantic images of Zionism embedded in Israel’s collective memory. The project reflects his fascination with the desire to stop time, with potential forms of construction, destruction, progress and devastation.” Mould and coffee are used to suggest the passing of time, allegory or a post-apocalyptic vision of Israel. ‘Jezreel Valley in the dark’ [pictured] consists of puzzle-shaped agricultural plots filled with coffee dregs that gradually grow mould at different rates. The smell that greats you isn’t very pleasant, nor probably is the realisation that it is mould all over the walls and floor, but for me I love the idea of having a changing installation at different stages of decay and where else can you view it and critique it in the context of being ‘art’. Here the natural process of the mould decaying is used to represent political or urban decay, the sprawl of time and how mould, like urban generation/degeneration can spread.


John Waters – Study Art [For Breeding or Bounty]
You’ve got to love a super kitsch; pop art style sign about studying art if you’re an artist don’t you? I certainly do and Waters’s series of ‘Study Art’ signs take his own intentions and turns language into a double meaning of a consumerist nature. Known for his film directing, (‘Pink Flamingos’) Waters, I learn, was once described by William S Burroughs as, ‘the Pope of bad Taste’. I like him even more! Deconstructing the clichés of the politically correct he is as debatably offensive as he is Duchampian-ly witty. If anything the humour of these pieces reminded me that it is important to not always [if at all] take art too seriously. Especially those who study art, these signs should be made available within every art department!


Republic of Korea – Lee Wan ‘Proper Time’
“Over 600 clocks engraved with the names, birthdates, nationalities and occupations of individuals interviewed from around the world. Each clock moves at a different rate that is determined by the amount of time the individual must work in order to afford a meal.” A lot of the Biennale feels like spectacle; which piece will be the biggest, most outrageous, most ambitious, most photogenic, most political or get its participants to do the strangest things? It is hugely competitive, with every work, every pavilion asking for everyone’s time to engage, therefore it is quite hard to determine whether one is interested in a work for genuine reasons or whether it all becomes a bit throw-away or commercialised.  Lee Wan’s ‘Proper Time’ is one piece in a two-man exhibition in the Republic of Korea pavilion. The way in which you approach this work is by having to duck under and through a very low doorway into a white-walled room filled with the sound of ticking clocks. It is intentionally humbling, having to almost bow in order to enter this space; a sign of respect perhaps to the people whose time is being exhibited. The speed of the care-worker’s clock from Britain significantly slower than that of the hotelier in Abu Dhabi, though quicker than that of the cobbler from Budapest; these kinds of comparisons intentional in what becomes a vast visual representation displaying the scale of global inequality. It is fitting too that it is a part of an exhibition as a whole that explores themes of cultural identity.



Argentina – Claudia Fontes ‘The Horse Problem’
There is no problem in ‘The Horse Problem, well at least not one I can see, unless of course the problem is that this horse sculpture is inexplicably huge! The idea behind the creation of the work was to present “...the relationship between man and his horse which is the basis for the nation’s founding myth....the animal kept captive in a prison [the Arsenale] built by its own motive power.” The artist Claudia Fontes speaks of the use of horses to forge, plough and build. That relationship she explains led to the building of borders and territories that we now challenge and cause many self-inflicted problems in how people and the land live together. It is a timely concept and one that current writer’s such as Ulrich Raluff are exploring in his book, ‘Farewell to the Horse’ though I am unsure if I would get much of that impression from the work itself it has certainly ignited my interest in finding out more.


Andora – Eve Ariza ‘Murmuri’ (Murmur)
Are they bowls? Are they mouths? Are they something other? However you see it, there are an awful lot of them in the Andora pavilion. Each one made in clay corresponding to different human skin tones, formed into the shape of a bowl as a symbol of, ‘the first container of truth’ they are meant as an offering of unity between languages. Each bowl becoming a listening vessel from which to hear the vibrations and subtle murmurings amidst the hustle and bustle of the Biennale. It is beautifully simple, the moulded bowls also form mouths and the ease in which meaning can be gleaned from this work was refreshing.


Republic of Azerbaijan – Elvin Nabizade
As part of the exhibition, ‘Under One Sun’ Azerbaijan hopes to present, the polychromi of culture in their country, “from its origins and traditional forms up to its different present manifestations”. There were several well executed immersive video installations within this exhibition but for me personally I could not resist the visual joy of seeing beautiful instruments suspended in sphere and arching forms from the ceiling.  


Japan – Takahiro Iwasaki ‘Turned Upside Down, It’s a Forest’
Stacks of arranged books on a table become a representation of a mountain and skyscrapers. A citadel from which delicate threads of cotton from towels become steel towers, cranes and oilrigs. These are the fine crafting of Takahiro Iwasaki who uses everyday objects to make small interventions that signify both traditional and new landscapes in Japanese culture; from large mountains to chemical plants that stand along Hiroshima’s coast to a shrine built above the sea. They are playful yet superbly handcrafted, quietly commanding attention not for their scale but for their subtlety.   


Italy – Giorgio Andreotta Calo ‘Untitled (The End of the World)’*
Andreotta Calo goes where Richard Wilson has previously gone with what, for the sake of argument is much larger, but visually very similar version of 20:50 that uses water as its reflective surface rather than oil. Despite the enormous space it occupies in the Italian pavilion it is just one artwork in the overall exhibition ‘The Magical World’ featuring three artists whose work we are told, shares, “...transformative power of the imagination and an interest in magic...” The surprise with this particular piece comes from first experiencing it from underneath; the viewer enters the installation to what appears to be a low dark ceiling suspended in place by a forest of metal scaffolding poles. As you traverse through this space you eventually come to a set of steep metal stairs leading upwards. The view at the top is initially disappointing as it is confusing; the stairs hit a brick wall. Nothing special about it; it isn’t until you turn-around that the trick is revealed. What was a ceiling held up by scaffolding was in fact a floor for a very, very large pool of water. This water reflects the architectural beams of the Arsenale pavilion playing with our sense of balance and creating another illusion. All three artists in this exhibition made intriguing work, the premise that, “...magic is not an escape into the depths of irrationality, but rather a new way of experiencing reality.” Of all the concepts in this year’s Biennale this was one that I thought was a refreshing change from the otherwise largely political agenda and I think it is important to remember in times as politically fraught as these of other forms of experiencing the world, a little magic maybe can go a long way.


New Zealand – Lisa Reihana ‘Emissaries’
In a panoramic, partly filmed, partly animated video projection ‘in Pursuit of Venus’ Māori and Pacific perspectives are shown in a re-imagining of the wallpaper, ‘Les Sauvages de la Mer Pacifique’ that, in 1769 referenced Pacific voyages of James Cook. It depicts real and invented narratives of cartographic and scientific exploration which happen simultaneously and on a scrolling loop from right to left so as to appear as life-size, moving wallpaper. For its use of animation mixed with filming it was distinctly memorable and along with its wit in showing a different perspective in a visually creative way.


Mexico – Carlos Amorales ‘Life in the Folds’*
“From abstract paper cut-outs [Carlos Amorales] created an illegible alphabet, which evolved into a series of ceramic wind instruments –ocarinas- producing a particular sound for each letter.”  Viewing the Mexican pavilion felt like an experience in trying to decipher and understand something. Upon entering the first thing one sees is a dozen flat white, table-like surfaces with hundreds of black ocarinas laid out systematically. Without having read anything it was a real mystery to solve. How we understand language and how it is constructed is exactly the point of Amorales’s work and a visual language is perhaps no different in the way in which we attempt to interpret and ‘make sense’ of things. The ocarinas here represent an abstract language, visually they looked like shapes, symbols or birds to me, but further into the exhibition a film depicting them being played turns the typographical into the phonetic. I thought how the work in this exhibition was displayed was successful to interpreting its meaning, it felt museum-like and I enjoyed the challenge of it.


Tunisia – ‘The Absence of Paths’*
Set across three one-man sized booths in the Arsenale and across Venice visitors are invited to participate in registering for their very own Freesa; a protest travel document whose recipients ‘effectively endorse a philosophy of universal freedom of movement’. Part performance, part protest the work ‘The Absence of Paths’ creatively engages with the debate around migration. The passport sized pamphlet visitors are given articulates the idea behind the work very succinctly, “The world over, human migration –once a symbol for our continued social evolution –is facing headwinds from populist nationalistic movements. Diverse rhetoric centred on the building of walls and policing of borders is worryingly translating into action and is considered normal.” I thought this was a really effective idea and powerful way to engage people’s interest. Everyone who participates in the performance at the Biennale leaves their name and email address, making it a great case for unity and understanding given much of current world events.


Taus Makhacheva ‘Tightrope’ 2015
In what was possibly one of my favourite video works from this year’s Biennale, Russian-Dagestani artist, Taus Makhacheva films a performance by Rasul Abakarov (descendant of a famous tightrope dynasty) “carry sixty-one art works copied from the museum of Dagestan between two mountains, from open air to a black structure reminiscent of museum storage.” At whatever point you encounter this film during its play, there is something very mesmerising about the task of which is unfurling before your eyes. Maybe it is the sense of danger and suspense from traversing the tightrope whilst carrying often large precariously balanced paintings or maybe it is the repetition of watching this activity play-out a dozen or so times that makes it so watchable. Will he drop one of the paintings [I hope not]? The viewer is compelled to watch and see. The film is also a curious way of viewing art works, the paintings suspended or carried move from one side of the mountain to the other giving us a panning view of each one as it travels by set against the stunning backdrop of the mountain range. It is as pleasing as it is unusual and subtly suggests how context is significant in how we view artworks. Once across they are safely and carefully stored, the pieces contained a comment on how museums deal with their storage and never exhibited art works. Politically Makhacheva’s dual heritage of being both Russian and Dagestani prohibits her to explore themes of how the West challenges invisible heritage, using elements in her work from both tradition and the present.


 Michal Cole ‘Neverland’ 2017
I don’t think I have ever seen a projection displayed in a bathroom before...? All the work in the Pavilion of Humanity is presented inside rooms of a house. There are faces and mouths projected inside saucepans in the kitchen, the ‘gentleman’s’ living room is floor to ceiling with every item of furniture clad in 27,000 neckties! In ‘Neverland’ a woman on a gondola in 1950s dress attempts the futile task of mopping-up the water of Venice’s canals. She is the artist’s interpretation of the Greek mythological figure of Sisyphus, her plight a visual representation of ‘the never ending task’. Subsequently the work is also a comment on, “the struggle of women to navigate the minefield of identity in an increasingly impossible and sometimes hostile society.” All the work in this exhibition created by the Israeli born and British-based artist alongside Turkish artist, Ekin Onat is a protest against global patriarchy.

The backdrop of global protest against the oppression of women, which saw millions around the world take to the streets earlier this year, “has made this work feel more powerful, definitely”, said Cole...But as well as commenting on the wider issues faced by women around the world today, the piece also comes from a deeply personal place for Cole. Her grandmother was a child bride, married off at 11 and gave birth at age 12. Cole also grew up in Israel and served her mandatory time in the military, where sexual assault has long been an issue swept under the carpet...”

I thought the context of the house or home was a meaningfully loaded place in which to show these works, the everyday domesticity of it and its familiarity took the understanding of the work outside of the gallery, which often feels very detached and put it into our real life.


Ibrahim Mahama –Ghana 1901-2030, 2016
A wall of worn shoemaker boxes obstructs the largest room of the Palazzo Contarini Polignac as part of the Future Generation Art Prize. It isn’t obvious at first quite what they are and until you get close do you notice polishing brushes and buckles in amongst the boxes that begin to give away what their purpose once was. It is revealed that these are exchanged shoemaker boxes, exchanged for new ones by the artist whose other well known work includes cladding buildings in used jute sacks from Ghana to transport coffee, rice and charcoal. Mahama uses these everyday items of work as raw material with which it is, “…possible to disrupt and subvert the politics of spaces by granting them new forms, imposing new meanings upon them, or divesting them of their intended significance.” These low-grade materials of everyday use displayed here on mass create a visual awareness of the scale and plight of our reliance on the work of the many individuals within these industries. On one level it seems wrong that these objects of use should be displayed so as to be viewed on their visual aesthetic and beauty, but the significance that each one has been collected by exchanging it for something new makes the work far more socially engaged than it does purely on aesthetics.

Whilst most of the pictures here are my own, the ones marked with a * have been sourced online via the following sites: http://moussemagazine.it; http://www.cultweek.com; http://www.e-flux.com; http://www.kurimanzutto.com/index.php/artists/carlos-amorales  
 

Saturday, 23 April 2016

Scissors, paper & glue!

Teachers on a limited materials budget throughout the land rejoice as the variety of things you can do with a sheet of cardboard and bottle of PVA is demonstrated with staggering, inventive aplomb in Michael Beutler's 'Pump House' on show now at Spike Island!

Michael Beutler 'Haus Beutler' (2014/16) Mixed media.
Industrial alongside low budget materials such as paper, string, sticky-tape, cloth, timber and yes, copious amounts of PVA glue are used by Beutler and his team to create large-scale, ambitious and immersive spaces. For his first solo exhibition in a gallery in the UK the German born artist tailors his work to fit the former Tea Factory space that is now Spike Island; here cardboard is rolled, scrunched, wrapped and overlapped to create walls, panels, lights and free-standing architectural forms or prototypes. The resulting work is temporary and bordering between the precarious and surprisingly robust as the limits to how these common-place materials can be recycled and manipulated is inventively explored. Its professional amateurism let loose, in what is the first of what I anticipate to be many more oxymoron’s used to describe what Beutler has achieved in bringing Pump House to Bristol's Spike Island. 

 'Tea Factory' (2016) Card, dye, rope, metal pipes, pulleys.
Cardboard painted tubes in one area of the gallery, titled ‘Tea Factory’ are one example of how play and low-tech experimentation with paper to create structure and form can become vastly transformed when the boundaries of scale and volume are pushed; the throw-away nature of these materials now becomes more sculptural, more weighty and architectural. Are they arches, bridges or Christmas crackers, I'm contentedly uncertain...Walls within ‘Haus Beutler’ (2014/16) become abstract, patch-work quilt like collages, blurring the distinction between abstract surface and structure. All of it is a form of serious or extreme play. I.e. If you could take a humble rag rug or toilet-roll archway/bridge and make another one on a grand scale then it adopts a new sense of purposefulness, celebration of the material properties the materials contain. For example cloth is malleable, can be stained, stretched, scrunched, compacted; it has a tension to it, all of which are properties that in Pump House are adopted into large scale building techniques (the cloth becomes bricks for building).  
It is always refreshing to see art that is fun and walking in and around Pump House feels like being a participant more than a spectator to the work; watching other people inhabit these unusual paper-lined walls feels like being in the art work. As previously alluded to I also like the contradiction of everything in the spaces looking very hand-made and unpolished yet being aware through watching the video pieces (dotted throughout the installation) that it has actually taken a huge amount of team work/effort to create all the stuff in it. It’s a testament to making and the construction and attributes that come with a creative process.
'Haus Beutler' (2014/16) Mixed media. (detail)
I promised myself I wouldn’t write about comparing the work to Phyllida Barlow here; I will not compare Michael Beutler to Phyllida Barlow. I will not compare Michael Beutler to Phyllida Barlow. I will not compare Michael Beutler to Phyllida Barlow....But, I think it is almost impossible not to see similarities between the two artist’s works!!! I’m sorry. Originality being only undetected plagiarism aside, both artists use low-grade materials to create abstract, often unstable looking forms that can be walked in or around by their audience. I think the crucial differences between the two being that Barlow is more of a painter and Beutler is much more context and process driven; the materials often coming from off the site they are built in and thus transformed back into their original environments in an altered state; the central piece in the exhibition alluding to Spike Island’s original use as a tea factory also echoed in the use of tea-bag bricks throughout. The processes of how the components in his installations are made is also often more ingenious than the result and within Pump House a variety of Heath Robinson style contraptions which have been designed to mass-produce walls of wavy, shiney corrugated card are displayed alongside the resulting constructions themselves (and believe me they are quite wacky, but they do the job they were designed for!). I think Beutler wants the audience to know how it’s made and part of the creative challenge is him devising these contraptions made from bits of wood and sticky-tape that enable him to quickly produce larger volumes of surfaces and components to build with.
Humour aside, I was in no way demeaning this exhibition when I called it ‘professional amateurism’ because that is exactly what it is, taking low-tech, low material and transforming it into something new, arguably extraordinary,  which retains the look of a DIY mentality. On a smaller scale these things could be classed as amateur but the installation here is so complex in its variety and volume that it must take a team of organising, planning and professionalism in order to pull it off. It reminds me also of Spartacus Chetwynd, a Turner Prize nominee whose work also sought to challenge the definition of ‘amateur’ within art and critique it as a pure, unpretentious form of creativity rather than as a negative; the perceived ‘lack of skill’ in a work of art is a kind of skill in itself. Beutler’s installation shares some of those ideas I think and possibly may make people consider how we define ‘skill’ and what expectations that creates in terms of how we perceive skill and production within art.
Michael Beutler’s ‘Pump House’ is on at Spike Island Bristol until June 19th 2016 http://www.spikeisland.org.uk/events/exhibitions/michael-beutler/
 

Monday, 11 August 2014

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