Thursday, 28 September 2017

PLYMOUTH ART WEEKENDER 2017 - September 22-24 - Venues across Plymouth

PLYMOUTH ART WEEKENDER 2017

ABOVE : Plymouth Art Weekender 2017 One of Peter Liversidge's Protest signs carried past one of Elmgreen and Dragset's 'A Good Neighbour' billboards


Last weekend the annual Plymouth Art Weekender unfurled in venues across the city, bringing together art lovers and artists from outside and inside the city in a celebration of creativity that focused attention on a vital sector of the regions cultural, economic and educational portfolio. The PAW has been invigorating Plymouth with an eclectic and exuberant display of innovative vitality for three years now, with specially commissioned and curated pieces from established national and International artists, rubbing shoulders with work from local artists, students and community groups. In an effort to create a lasting dialogue between the arts and people, the citywide arts show has pioneered an attitude of openness in presenting work that is truly engaging with the public.

From garden sheds to the cities own Council House and Civic Centre, in Devonport Park and Plymouth University, on buses and in tunnels at the Royal William Yard and the Barbican , the work could be found in every corner of Plymouth. 

ABOVE : Plymouth Art Weekender venue sign outside Plymouth School of Creative Arts (The Red House)
 


Friday

JOJO the cities own mononymous character photographer, exhibited 'U + Me = Us' a show adorning one wall on the Royal William Yards Ocean Studios. It was a lesson in affection. Laid out like a Victorian photo album the portraits of soul mates and Single mums reveals an easy intimacy with his sitters that years of practice cannot but fail to hone. The pictures are not grouped into two camps, so the effect is much like a wall in somebodies home. It invites you in, and encourages you to peer at the people featured, eager to learn more about them and what may be portrayed by the subtle choice of location, clothes or props that surround them. 


ABOVE : Plymouth Photographer JOJO's Exhibition 'U + Me = Us' at Ocean Studios


It is very easy to see the light touch of both Lange and Arbus in the selection and execution of this project, in which JOJO once again examines a panoply of people through the revealing lens of his camera. All presented with the same unjudgemental eye, they live and breathe, more than mere simulacrum , the sepia semblances presented as real people with complex lives and most importantly relationships, that are hinted at rather than overtly expressed in each portrait.

Effervescent's 'I am not a robot' presented at the Radiant Gallery is an immersive interactive show designed by local fostered children. The ground breaking dynamic arts company has been a glowing example of how to curate collaboratively for years now here in the city, and reminds many of us to look outward, demonstrating how to engage with the public by trusting them.

ABOVE : A Robot waiting to be cared for at Plymouth's Radiant Gallery


Radiant galleries amazing track record in standing alone as a child curated exhibition space is once again rewarded here with a strong show in which the roles played by foster carers are examined in a touching and beautiful display of sixty fluffy robots, all awaiting somebody to care for them. The sense of theatre , drama and playfulness is made all the more engaging by a brilliant set, and a fantastic score courtesy of Phil Innes and a volunteer choir. 


The show works because the need to be loved and looked after is subtly reinforced throughout. From the glowing touch sensors accessible to the public on the exterior of the gallery window, to the sofa provided for reading stories, and the messages on the floors and walls, the attention to detail reiterates the same message, and you can not help but be involved and empathetic to the plight of the doleful big eyed robots pleading for hugs.


'What Does Not Respect' based at The Athenaeum featured Louise R-Djukic's performance 'Eat me Eat You' , in which the artist makes bread dough and then after kneading it into a sizeable mattress then lies upon it using her bodies heat to activate the heat and aid it's rising. Whilst on the surface it may seem to be all about the distorted relationship between food and body image foisted on western females by a complicit and unrealistic media image of size zero femininity, it speaks also of the relationship between artists and material. 

It is not by accident (though a not a little pretentious) that the term 'artisan bread' has become part of the common vernacular. The are few more primal relationships than that between bread maker and dough. Beyond nutrition,the alchemy of combining simple everyday elements into pliable working dough is heavy with symbolism and potential. The hands here are never truly removed and are in fact still evident in the stretched elongated gouged finger channels that support Louise as she lies on the bed she has created. 

Artists have long been concerned with separating the creator and the created, but the moment in which the artist here arises after a couple of hours cultivating the yeast, extends the moment of separation and more than that, makes it visible. 

ABOVE : Louise R-Djukic's performance 'Eat me Eat You' in the tunnel at The Plymouth Athenaeum



Not only is the hard work of creation exposed but the old adage of removing the artists hand from the work is turned on it's head, as the artist herself has to remove the work from herself. The sticky dough clinging to her hair and arms, as she extrudes herself from the bed loaf.

Friday also saw the official launch of 'We The People Are The Work', a major visual arts project exploring ideas of power, protest and the public in a collaboration between five internationally renowned artists and the people of Plymouth.

 
ABOVE : Plymouth College of Art host venue for Matt Stoke's (UK) 'More than a Pony' show
Matt Stokes ' UK multi-screen film 'More than a Pony' opened at the gallery of Plymouth College of Art. The work documents five Plymouth bands from the PUNK DIY scene, in five different locations, supposedly “poignantly exploring punks legacy of protest and resistance”. The problem with the work is just how distant and uninvolved Stokes seems to be with the project. For an artist whose process is built on immersing himself in the culture and social structures out of which his subjects emerge, it is sad that his engagement here seems so utterly fleeting and without apperception.

The whole collaborative nature of the work is suffocated by a misguided belief that a single take, or reliance on stripping away a subtle sheen that is not there, by using 16 mm film or preserving the acoustic signature of the performance spaces themselves, is somehow enlightening. This is a vibrant living scene that has continued to evolve, not some relic that needs memorialising in such a condescending and formulaic manner. The last thing you should be asking yourself at a punk gig is 'Where is the passion?'

There is something almost apologetic in the freak show nature of the final piece, shown as it is within the sanitised and over used dark room gallery that so much video and film art has to hide within. Make no mistake this is not Bill Viola or Nam June Paik, and the precious handling of a genre that by it's very nature should be reflective, vibrant and out in the open, disparate and diffused on many types of media, renders it as lifeless as the stuffed mammals lounging behind the walls of the nearby museum undergoing a rebirth.

It is a shame. There is much to recommend, in the choice of bands and venues, the spotlight thrown onto a vital and visceral piece of what makes Plymouth's music scene refuse to die. There is though no trace of protest, no confrontation , and even the yearning there in Darren Johns aching voice, for a venue and scene that helped shape his remarkable evolution, is almost voided by poor handling and execution. The Bus Station Loonies also are presented as anything but the riotous unpredictable camp bastards that have populated their live shows for 20+ years. You just can't hear it properly and the film and sound dispersal is incredibly flat and lacking in innovation. There is nothing here to differentiate it and the work of a student film maker. No interactivity, no gravitas, no impact.

It is the promoters and landlords, (often band members themselves), that keep the flame alive. Yet there is no trace of them or the most vital ingredient of all, the fans, here. In a city blessed with virtual Punk Historians like Mark Mcillvanney and spectacular characters with an almost religious devotion and zeal for the bands, it is indicative of somebody dipping their toe in, rather than getting wet , that they, the zines, the memorabilia etc are not included. With bands as epic and demonstrative as Damerels and compact, chaotic and divisive as Piss Midget, it is strange how uninspiring, tepid and safe the films manage to be. Here in a place where the Punk scene can piss like a race horse, the pony is rendered danger free and mouse like, as if it would barely register a tinkle on blotting paper.


Saturday

ABOVE : The WonderZoo Bus tour of Plymouth. Part of the Art Weekender Bus Sessions



The Wonder Zoo bus tour of Plymouth saw members of the Fantasy Orchestra Plymouth, the comedy Avengers, Nick Ingram MC and Peter Davey join art lovers and confused commuters on a irreverent charabanc ride around the city. The works outing started with a lively rendition of the Sound of Music as we left Royal Parade, and though many of us never quite hit the right notes, the laughs were more frequent than a lot of the services . I know I will hear what I have heard before , but the juxtaposition of a band on a bus with comedy and poetry is remarkably successful , reminiscent as it is, of a time when such public group interactions were common place, and people were not so prone to suspicion and the safety of their own headphone imposed partition and seclusion.

ABOVE : Plymouth Fantasy Orchestra playing on the PAW WonderZoo Bus Tour

The highlight as travelling up Crownhill Road through West Park, Honicknowle and passing the pedestrian bridge that links to my childhood estate of Whitleigh, was Marion Claire's amazing poem “Whales”. Performed with great craft, wit and nuance, and embellished by a handy megaphone for the giant mammalian punch lined chorus, she held a captivated audience, that had they been out shopping, would no doubt have missed their stop.



'Benthic Caress' the one hour long eco-acoustic participatory performance piece by Laura Denning in collaboration with Take a Part and the artists featured, was set in Devil's Point tidal sea pool. The work saw 100 people stood, sat and walking around the pool, set as it is looking out to sea, with headphones on listening to a curated programme of sound works with the saline wilderness situated at the centre of the experience.

Bringing sound outside into the boundless wide open space that is the sea's edge seems to be an easy way of allowing the general public, whose experience of sonic work has been previously deferred due to a perception that it is a solitary and self indulgent, indoor intellectual exercise, a no brainer. In fact site specific work is not a new thing with electro acoustic music and sound art, where boundaries are often the subject of a piece. Though reflection and refraction are often the focus for sonic art practitioners, as obsessed with this basic building block of acoustic phenomenon, as visual artist are with the play of light, the great outdoors has often been an arena for sound dispersal.

There is though the interesting irony that the very building blocks of synthesis and sound manipulation, (effects), are present here in abundance, in the ever changing and frequency deep range of white noise that makes up the sound of the tide slapping against the sand. This granular building block, is so omnipresent on the edges of our island, that the sound which surrounds us, permeates in a quite unnoticed way and is not something upon which many of us reflect.

Benthic Caress negates a lot of the supposed inaccessibility of sound work in allowing the listeners the freedom to engage with the work on their own terms. There is nothing so friendly and familiar as a the British seaside and the inclusion of such easy listening classics as Ronald Binges “Sailing By”, triggered a beautiful moment in which a couple embraced, and dance along the sea wall. 

ABOVE : The tidal pool at Devil's point served as a venue for 'Benthic Caress'
 

The prelude to the shipping forecast, itself a powerful and populist piece of sound art, in which though people understand it to be a useful and necessary broadcast for those navigating the sometimes treacherous waters that surround us, is now cherished as a relic of a bygone age. A sonic monument, in which the cadence and timber of each location is loaded with much more meaning than the words geographic location. This is the heart of sonic art. A willingness to submit to the underlying ,and remove the surface, a process as simple as Pierre Schaeffer removing the attack of a violins bow to render an instrument anew, and an acknowledgement that sound itself has meaning, power and symbolism that operates within us in ways we are not in control of. It is the great manipulator, the most undercover and passive of senses in which an open eye, outstretched hand or inhaled scent is not necessary for us to be immersed into it's world.


Visible from the pool is the archway that looks into the Royal William Yard. This is where 'Compound' was situated, with a joint cinematic exploration of a Dartmoor pool in one small outhouse/store, both films running next to each other, and an installation featuring stacked TV screens (where have I seen that before?) and separate feeds, in the shed opposite.

The cities role as a prime educator is well represented at this festival, with not only the University and PCA hosting exhibitions from established artists, but also by providing a platform for emerging artists in shows across Plymouth . Masters students were represented in the Mills Bakery building at The Royal William Yard with their own graduation show open to the public.

The most striking of these pieces for me was that of Monica Shanta. In 'Death is a Place' the artist is sat on a white galley floor, plaiting what looks like black wool, into a long coiled rope laid out as a perfect circle on which she sits. Reminiscent of Hirst's 'Black Sun' , Shanta's work instead of focusing on stasis and the end of movement, reminds us that life is indeed a journey, and while the base of each hair follicle contains a matrix of cells that divide to make each strand longer, once death happens, contrary to popular belief the idea that hair continues to grow is a myth. (The gruesome truth is that the shrinking of a dead persons skin may makes this growth appear to happen). So we are all at the centre of our own big black dots, weaving the inevitability of our own demise with every seemingly meaningful interaction, twist and turn. However much hair or physical, spiritual and intellectual growth we feel like we manage to fit into a lifetime, in the grand scheme of things, the reality is, like the dots of hair after a grade 1 buzz cut, we are all mere punctuation marks, on the scalp of humanity.


The little marks continue in Laura Edmunds explorations of energy at Ocean Studios. 'A Soft Introduction' examines residual effect through drawing and sound. This study attempts to capture energy through space, and the intricate but zoetic marks are here presented, often along tiny lines, like a vastly expanded stave on which the excitable notes are given free reign to express their progress through time. There is a delighted child spinning in-between the installed sound work nearby, as if to certify the presence of velocity in the room. There is though no sense of progression or true randomness in the order of works on the wall, and they do somewhat impose their own boundaries on a study which seems to be seeking to free them from the page.


ABOVE : Emerge held a show entitled 'Together' showing work from some of the cities Reugee population
Further along the studios, in the Emerge space, is the work of some of the cities refugees. The photographs produced in conjunction with Fotonow CIC and Devon and Cornwall Refugee support is inspired by the theme of artists Elmgreen and Dragset .(' A Good Neighbour' works, that are up on billboards around the civic centre).

The photographs are representative of a way of exploring not only the city, but the place of these new arrivals within it and the way they respond to it. There are also Jenny Mellings simple but touching and effective paintings of the 'Jungle' camp in Calais in a tent, situated somewhat incongruously on the opulent green at the entrance to the Royal William Yard, to mirror both sides of the conversation. A way in which the strands that link many works from the PAW across locations, seems to be a unified theme, in a city of separate groups, that radiate across the municipal expanse.

Through happen stance, rather than design, the theme of communities and places that symbolise Plymouth as a place to depart from, continues in Sam Akroyd and Christian Gales 'Bretonside'. Comprised of paintings, and sound again, the home to the same vibrant culture that is touched upon in Matt Stokes film of the Bus Station Loonies (PUNK ), is remarked upon here, by two of the cities citizens of Rave Culture. (Some of the sound itself arriving from stems of Soundcube's ground breaking Stochastic Bizarre premiered in the then vacant RWY Cooperage building 10 years ago).

The piece is a little hemmed, in within this small room, but serves as a precursor to a much bigger installation planned for the future, where Bretonside and the communities that thrived in and around the clubs and icnonic building that was the Bus Station, will be explored and celebrated.

 
ABOVE :Open Studios were a part of the Plymouth Art Weekender at Ocean Studios in The Royal William Yard

There is an invitation here in the Royal William Yard to explore the artists studios, and a crocheted, or knitted chain, leads you through the space in an inspired and inclusive nod to craftsmanship, and the hand skills of the artisans that once populated these buildings. There is also a plethora of events across the weekend for children and young people to get involved with making, with a fun screen printing workshop here in the ocean studios quadrangle, and a 'Made in Plymouth Maker Space Family Activitie' inside the galley, itself filled with children making prints and 3D stick figures. With the inclusion of a number of events in the Red House in Millbay, and the brilliant, important and moving 'I am not a Robot' at Radiant, it is nice to see young people catered for and recognised as future artists and audience members at this weekender.

Saturday night saw the Junction opened up for 'Feminist Fusion' a night of all female or female led bands with live poetry art and speeches and games. It is refreshing in a city like Plymouth to have such a strong representation within the arts of scene of women leading the way in innovation, leadership and creation with luminaries like Eloise Malone, Lucy Dafwyn, Hannah Rose, Rachel Dobbs, Dr Hannah Drayson, Julie Ellis, Vickie Fear, Jo Beer, etc arguably leading the resurgence of art in Plymouth from the front. So it was nice to see an evening where Feminism was addressed, and female musicians, again very well represented in the local scene (Devon and Cornwall), take front of stage.


Sunday

Studio 102 showcased Adrien Bishop's 'I Don't Believe Birmingham Exists' , in which the artist seeks to provoke a critical response by presenting a series of beliefs and challenging them on their ridiculousness . The energised characters staring out from beneath the sloganized beliefs seem deranged,alien and uncertain, at times oddly symbiotic and at others, at odds with their own, often ludicrous, but firmly held beliefs. Bishop is here for a second time in Marcus Crandon's vibrant and ever changing gallery.

Further along the Barbican and secreted away in the cobbled alleyway of New Street is Paul Hillon and Liam Symes work 'Gestalt'. Both agreeing on the premise of working in monochrome and exploring the idea of Gestalt, the idea that something can be more than the sum of it's parts. Hillon's work here is three dimensional and sculptural with Symes small oil paintings hanging on the walls, working over and around found internet images.

In one of 'We The People Are The Work' s most succesful iterations, Peter Liversidges 'Sign Paintings' , ( based in a Council House in which Protests are not usually so welcome ) have managed to disperse themselves around the city. I have photographed them myself in their subtle interactions with other work around the city during this show. It was nice to see them being created though, here by a team of skilled artists and volunteers including the talented and thought provoking artist Alan Qualtrough. Painted from a selection that visitors could browse a book to choose from, this form of democracy using locals own slogans again helped to really unify this show, in spreading a message across the miles that encompass our city.

Karst presents, as another part of 'We The People Are The Work' , Claire Fontaine's Neon sign ' Have Cake & Eat it' and a map of the British Isles built out of black match-book matches. Lit before the show, and representing the UK awaiting an uncertain future after Brexit, the whole thing doesn't quite work. There is always a danger of glibness when parodying slogans, phrases and sound bites, that the work actually ends up being, in and of itself, more shallow and superficial than that which it is commenting on. That feels to be the case here. Whilst Liveridge's signs are at least the result of canvassing the public , Fontaine's work seems to have little to do with the public at all and much like documenting the idea of something with which the art is in no way engaged. Matt Stokes 'More than a Pony Show' at least demonstrated an attempt to engage with the people, even if the resulting work managed to neuter and sanitise it's subject to the point of banality, and render a scene still vibrant and alive into a tepid mausoleum for the masses.

There is also something a little squalid and token about Karst's own contribution, 'Peepshow' . A show in which curiously the only charming thing to hold ones attention is the rather obvious, but graceful and witty appearance of a cavorting dancer, who at least seems to acknowledge that there will be somebody watching this vignette from the other side of the door. Much of the other peepholes are filled with work, which seems made for the artists themselves, all either curiously very quiet in their work or entirely absent in more ways than one. Not quite a disaster but you fear that even if Mitchell and Webb were to put in an appearance, Channel 4 would not be commissioning it.


ABOVE : Tony Hill, creator of 'Floor Film'

In stark contrast, Tony Hill's poetic remake of his own 1975, 'Floor Film', originally shot on 16mm and shown at Tate Britain in London and the George Pompidou Centre in Paris, now remade in high definition, is a triumph of unpretentious lyricism. It is billed as a film that can be enjoyed by audiences of all ages, and whilst I was in the tent, a father and his 18 month old daughter demonstrated this very clearly, taking advantage of the one of the pieces strokes of genius. A soft floor.

The little girl loved interacting with the ebbing tide, the giant vocalising mouth and anything else the film threw onto the malleable mattress. The other very simple device was the mounting of a camera above the floor film and a projector outside to replay in real time the interactions of audience members, with the film in a more conventional trajectory against a white wall. I was reminded of Barthes and the post modern surrealists in the very object defined deployment of a simple symbolic language. It is hard to make something appear as perfectly formed and effortless as this, and Tony Hill succeeds in creating an accessible aperture through which the unfamiliar can immerse themselves in art.

Far from being useless, Elefante Blanco, large though the giant inflated white tent is, proves an unwitting but very fitting tribute the pioneering spirit of the Red House in which the performance was staged. Three different artists, a dancer, designer and musician from Bristol, have created a performance/installation piece in which the obscured and silhouetted form of the dancer reacts to a sound track, which itself evolves and reflects a freedom and willingness to play with light, timbre and space, highlighted here with the simple use of first a red, and then green light.

ABOVE : Plymouth Athenaeum host to 'Cafe Concrete' part of Plymouth's Art Weekender 2017

The weekend for me ends with a return to the Athenaeum and an evening of experimental electronica under the considered and careful curation of Cafe Concrete's Matthew Coombe. The highlight of the evening is Koombe's own set of improvisations with bass, electronics and domestic objects. It is always nice when a little nervous energy is allowed to infect an electronic performance, and the per formative element of his loop layering, imbued the whole piece, particularly the final composition, with an elegant vulnerability with which the audience could empathise. Many of the weekends producers, performers, artists and musicians were present, and Neil Rose, the cities own sonic jewel (hovering in the background of, and helping to realise at least two other pieces over the weekend) did a sterling job of kneading our leaven heavy tired shoulders, and easing us all back into the real world in the evening before Monday morning's heralding the return to work.

Here is to next year, and another weekend of recognising, celebrating and indulging the senses in three days of art and creativity, that speaks to Plymouth and all that visit her over the duration.



Thanks to Greenbeanz Photography for the use of photographs

Saturday, 23 November 2013

ARTISTS MAKE FACES Curated by Monika Kinley OBE - Plymouth City Museum and Art Gallery November 21 2013



The role of the curator is a curious one. I never know whether to love, hate or admire someone who can have such an enormous effect on who, what and even how the public view artists, art and bodies of work. Artists are at the mercy of many elements but a sympathetic curator with a genuine knowledge and love of the work they are curating can do much to subtly introduce a brilliant piece with careful placement or elevate a whole swathe of inconsequential nonsense by swamping an exhibition like the water pump from John snow’s infamous Cholera map.

For those of you unfamiliar with the graphic that is often touted as the poster boy for visualisation, Snows map is famous as the tool that identified an outbreak of Cholera in Soho in 1854 as having originated from a single infected water Pump. This is all very convenient for demonstrating that mapping the deaths of humans with dots on a map reveals much more than written statistics in interpreting data. Very convenient but sadly not true. Snow had already surmised that water could be the carrier of the disease and after collecting data to support his hypothesis, used the map as a marketing tool. The sewer commission had already produced a map with the death locations but Snow’s genius lay in the decision to leave a lot of stuff out. He incised old grave sites and sewer locations and without the clutter his theory that cholera had spread out from the water shone out unimpeded.

I digress but for good reason. Monika Kinley has done a great job curating here and it is not simply because a lot of her friends are great artists. It is not even because the original small 1983 show in her home was so diverse and vibrant. It is because she had an idea, a hypothesis, a structure on which to hang the work. It is not an exhaustive list but the show demonstrates that she completely understands that Portraiture is not the destination when an artist sits down or stands up to paint. It is the jumping off point, a reason to explore and express. Just as a great love song can transcend the person it was written about and be just as much about the condition itself, a great painting can speak to many people about the same heady experience and communicate much more than a superficial skin deep quality like appearance.

The exhibition starts with this painting




Giuseppe Arcimboldo
Summer
Oil on Canvas, c1527-1593

It is a brilliant way to wrong foot and disinhibit people of the notion that abstraction is a degradation, a modern notion that much like the Emperor’s new clothes is all a load of baloney. It is not. In this case it is actually a load of fruit. Arcimboldo is often lumped in with the mannerists because of the strong relationship between nature and humans in his work but he was also a product of the Renaissance. This was a guy born just eight years after Da Vinci. Summer uses only summer fruit in its depiction of a human figure and while it is not his best work (check out ‘The Librarian’ for proof that 400 years later Picasso did not only look toward Africa for inspiration) it reminds us that artists make faces not only as a way of sticking their tongue out at us but also as a way to communicate riddles. Riddles incidentally both those painting and those viewing may not understand.

Arcimboldo was commissioned by the court in Vienna but even he knew that life was about experience outside of the constraints of a frame and that he could use his work to do more than represent .His comments like many here enlighten us about the human condition, it’s absurdity and beauty, its dark canyons and bright prairies. The works are carefully and cleverly laid out with Plymouth’s own George, of Gilbert and George, represented by Exhausted a child like black daubed scrawl on sixteen panels behind Paul Neagu’s Ceramic Skull an Escher like honeycombed catacomb corridor full skull. The squareness of each anchoring them in place. Clive Barker’s Head of Francis Bacon is like a great nose on which a face lies and this is displayed near John Davies Dogman an acrylic head with eyes so lifelike that you almost forget the ludicrous proboscis below them.




 


Gilbert and George
Exhausted Mixed Media, 1980







Paul Neagu
Ceramic Skull 
Ceramic and Glaze, 1973







Clive Barker                                                                                            
Head of Francis Bacon
Bronze and Brass, 1978 


                                                                                                                                                                                  

John Davies                                                                                         
Dogman
Polyester Resin fibreglass and Steel, 1972


There are also two great Auerbachs here. Until the Freud exhibition I have to confess that I was not very familiar with his work but the two heads he has captured here are curiously exactly what you would expect after seeing Freuds portrait. The first Head of Bridget is charcoal on paper and the other Head of Laurie Owen oil on board, but in both his agitation is palpable. They both have rough torn edge borders with mounting holes apparent and evidence of being scraped right back. The Head of Bridget has her forehead rubbed away in highlight, the rolled paper stretched like sea foam where it has rolled together. In Head of Laurie Owen the same turbulent ocean is rendered though more geometrically in bold deep strokes, the gashes of dark sea, oil deep black and ominous. Owen himself looks like a strange homogenous hieroglyph of Robert Powell and Willem Dafoe, more manly, butch and Jesus like than either of them.


  
Frank Auerbach  
Head of Bridget
Charcoal on Paper, 1973-4





Frank Auerbach
Head of Laurie Owen
Oil on Board, 1971

There is a great little Freud Small Head on the opposite wall to Bridget and a Freud like gangster on the same surface in Nigel Henderson’s Head of a man. All violence, solidity and weight, the tension between the oil and photography that made it not quite resolved and hovering like the menacing aura of a dangerous human just above the surface. There is great contrast too. I love the frame of Sava Sekulic’s Napoleon and his Daughters the wooden board itself floating in a beautiful subtle box frame, the image itself resonating with my own early memories of the 1970’s as being predominantly brown but in a million different shades, where even seemingly mundane pursuits like making a macramé plant pot holder in Primary school are magnified by time into a towering achievement made magical by the fact that when disassembled even the vegetation free household could furnish three flare wearing individuals with funky belts. This is offset by Hew Locke’s shimmering psychedelic garden centre silhouette of the monarch, Jungle Queen II all New York graffiti yellow, pink, green and blues and David Whittaker’s The Year List a great crossroads of style at which traditionalists and fans of the less formal and more messy can meet and find common ground.


  
Lucien Freud 
Small Head 
Oil on Canvas, 1973-4





Nigel Henderson
Head of a Man
Oil and Photographic Processes on card, 1956-61

There is much to be commended in the way in which the work has been selected and displayed to give it cohesion, but the overriding sense is one of relief. Relief that the brevity has been finely balanced so as not to burden one with too much, but also relief that distractions have been left out and that in future maybe more curators will try to be as generous as Monika Kinley in sharing an idea without drowning us in sewer locations.



  
Sava Sekulic
Napoleon and his Daughters
Oil on Board, 1975



  
Hew Locke
Jungle Queen II
Mixed Media, 2003



 David Whittaker
The Year List
Oil and Acrylic on Canvas, 2012

Thursday, 7 November 2013

A UNIVERSAL ARCHIVE: William Kentridge as Printmaker - Peninsula Arts Gallery-Roland Levinsky Building -Plymouth University November 7 2013







Scribble Cat, 2012

There are artists who though they may use their work to portray characters and concepts still seek to remove any touch or inference from their own hand, and then there are those whose own hand is visible and evident in all their representations, be they of people, objects or even when they are working with abstractions and landscapes. Kentridge, here as printmaker, is firmly from the second camp, one whose hand is everywhere. He strides thorough this collection theatrically like one of his giant pylon legged characters, scattering his magic like, font laden confetti, a modern day Geppeto imbuing his work with the gift of motion, each silhouette or shadow, crackling with the busy hubris of life. You can tell that he is also an animator, and that as a set designer he understands both magic and show business, and his recurrent themes seem to be projection,processions, spinning circles, (33rpm vinyl records or 1000 mph globes),cats and the mechanical ephemera of yesterday.

Just as the outer edge of 33rpm record moves faster than the inner grooves, the South African Maestro reveals a calm inner spindle around which a seemingly chaotic bundle of characters and ideas are thrown out in all directions. He clearly loves paper and the page, and so deep is his devotion to printmaking that he often uses printed pages of text, ( along with vinyl records and maps) as the background upon which to impose his magnificent menagerie.




 Living Language Trees, 1999

Kentridge has said that his interest in the procession was sparked by Goya’s Procession of the Holy Office one of the black paintings replacing the murals in Quinta Del Sordo (the house of the deaf man) and while his procession avoids the problem of growing shadows from a forward marching group by transposing the travellers to a lateral plane, he does much to enlighten us in this illuminating exhibition. To understand Kentridge it is not essential that you have seen his animations or stage sets but it helps. 




Portage, 2000

For him art is there to arrive at a meaning without logic and reasoning, through signs and signals. Stupidity and crudity are for him necessary qualities to employ in the studio, not because of some wilful ignorance, but because he truly understands light and shadow and how it both distorts and reveals the world. We are participants in the show, for that is what exhibitions, however static they may be, are, and here we meet the artist and his art halfway. We cannot help but draw movement from the images because it is what they are in essence. The glyphs that populate his pages are concentrated reductions not reproductions. 


Twelve Coffee Pots, 2012


This is clearly demonstrated in 12 Coffee Pots where the figure that Kentridge has seen all along in the shape of the coffee pot is gradually revealed and then disappears again. He wants us not just to look at the image of the person he sees in the pot, but to join him in this journey. He is well aware that the artist is also a viewer and that self critical analysis is not a static thing. Constant re-evaluation may be a reason that artists often return to the same themes, forever trying to capture the elusive central nature of an object, it's soul, but he senses too that the real art lays in not just being able to strip away as much of unnecessary detail and leave in just a few marks, the unmistakable essence of it. No what really sets him apart is the ability to recognise that this gap, between an object and it's representation is where the energy lies, and not only that he affords us as viewers the courtesy of space in which to draw our own inferences. We have seen the familiar objects that he sees and we project our own interpretation back onto the image in front of us. Kentridge is aware of this shared space and the universal archive that he presents us with is all about light, projection, shadows and silhouettes. 





 The Nose 29, 2007-2009


He has spoken of the typewriter as "a projector of the written word"  and the tearing motion of removing paper from it is not so dissimilar from the action he uses is fashioning torn black assemblages and pinning them together in his magical animations. You can see these edges in much of the sometimes hilarious sketches and mock ups for his set design on Shostakovich's "The Nose", the figures traipsing across Portage and in the large imposing lino cuts of Walking man and Telephone Lady.


Telephone Lady, 2001
Walking Man, 2000

 
There is much kinetic energy here and a real sense of the South Africans' enigmatic personality leaps off the pages on which it is printed, and into that space within us all where we conjure up images. He is a great showman, but also a scholar and craftsman, and for all his knowledge and insight he is still not above meeting the viewer halfway. For that you can only applaud him and I for one look forward to what he does next.






 (Scenes from ) Ubu tells the truth, 1996-7