Monday, 15 October 2012

Review of Ian Robinson: Collections. Artist in Residence 2012 Solo Show at the Muse Gallery


15/10/12
Ian Robinson: Collections
Artist in Residence 2012 Solo Show
The Muse Gallery
11 – 28 October 2012

“Every passion borders on the chaotic, but the collector’s passion borders on the chaos of memories.”[1] Whether one subscribes to Walter Benjamin’s view of the objects of collection as “treasure-houses of memories because each […] object evokes the precise memory of where it was acquired and under what conditions,”[2] or whether one agrees more with Jean Baudrillard and his assessment of the act of collecting as the “pathological need to sequester the love object”[3] and to inscribe it into a series, thus destroying its context of origin, and rendering it merely part of the collection, it is clear that there is a level of obsessionality displayed by the collector, and a sense in which the object becomes fetishised and elevated, representative of far more than its original use value would imply.


For artist Ian Robinson, his photorealistic “portraits” of the objects of collections began when he was still at college, and he started to paint pictures of his own record collection. Upon moving to London, he suddenly found he had access to numerous other collections, including those of Sir John Soane, Cassiano Dal Pozzo, and Aby Warburg, and his focus switched from music to literature. He would visit the collections, make drawings and take photos, and then scale these up, sometimes by hand, sometimes by projecting the photograph on to the canvas, and paint them in minute detail over a period of months. The results are documents of documents, catalogues of catalogues, copies and replicas, or “models of a real without origins or reality: a hyper real.”[4]


Following a year’s residency at The Muse Gallery, Robinson is now showing a collection of his works (and, since Benjamin suggests that “of all the ways of acquiring books, writing them oneself is regarded as the most praiseworthy method,”[5] so, similarly, creating a collection of paintings of collections by painting them oneself must also deserve its share of praise), lovingly drawn and painted images of vinyl records, CDs, books, documents, albums and manuscripts, tattered and dog-eared, wrinkled and creased, generations of recorded media, families, lineage and heritage. The sketchy Bookend (2011) appears like a photograph of an old beloved grandfather, and Richard Prince Photobooks (2011) (itself an homage to an artist who collects), has the air of a family portrait, posed and poised, some members worn and aged, some younger and/or better preserved, each with its own value and its own history, but all coming together as part of a greater whole.


More recently, Robinson has returned to collections of music, and has spent time at the Ministry of Sound and at Rough Trade Records. His red chalk drawing of a mixer at the former was inspired by seeing an exhibition of red chalk works at the Scottish National Galleries, and the air of antiquity bequeathed by this choice of medium echoes a sense of loss with the disappearance of a format and the death of a generation – Robinson himself regrets that he no longer buys vinyl today. Technics Turntable (2010), a black and white biro and pencil drawing on paper, positions the machine floating in space, with no ground whatsoever: a pure celebration of the object itself.


For nineteenth century French collector Edmond de Goncourt (1822-1986), who, along with his brother Jules (1830-1870), brought about a revival of eighteenth century Rococo style, the aristocratic lineage of an object was an important part of its value, and for Robinson as well, the history associated with an object or a collection is of great significance. Part of his work involves researching both the collector and the collection, and gaining some insight into their inner world and psyche. Their obsession becomes his, and their complete collection a unique object in his pictorial one. Baudrillard is keen to point out that the series in a collection must always remain open and incomplete, for “lack is the guarantor of life: to complete the series is to die.”[6] Robinson is a young man, with talent and a passion for his work, and so I can only surmise that his series will continue to grow.




[1] Walter Benjamin, “Unpacking My Library: A Talk about Book Collecting,” (first published in German, 1931), in Illuminations, ed. H. Arendt, London, 1970, p60
[2] Naomi Schor, “Collecting Paris,” in The Cultures of Collecting, eds. J. Elsner & R. Cardinal, London: Reaktion, 1994, p252
[3] Ibid, p257
[4] Jean Baudrillard, Simulacra and Simulation: The Body in Theory, Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press, 1981, p80
[5] Benjamin, 1970, p61
[6] Schor, 1994, p258





Images:

Ian Robinson
5 Studies
2011
Oil on canvas
45cm x 32.5cm

Ian Robinson
Bookend
2011 
Oil on Board
25cm x 18cm 

Ian Robinson
Richard Prince Photobooks 
2011 
Oil on Canvas
37cm x 40cm 


Ian Robinson
Technics Turntable 
2010 
Biro and pencil on paper
39cm x 26.5cm 





Saturday, 13 October 2012

Review of Telling Stories: Hastings at Hastings Museum and Art Gallery


13/10/12
Telling Stories: Hastings
Hastings Museum and Art Gallery
22 September 2012 – 13 January 2013

If a photograph can capture a moment and preserve it for eternity, it is unsurprising that most of the 14 artists showing work in Telling Stories: Hastings, the second exhibition in a project which began in Margate last year, have chosen to use this medium when inviting us to share the stories of their lives. 



Image:

Cathryn Kemp
Installation shot of Sleeping Beauty 
2012
iphone photographs as composite on 5mm aluminium DiBond, exhumed nightgown, constructed oak cabinet and stand
Photo: Alex Brattell




To read the rest of this review, please go to: http://www.photomonitor.co.uk/2012/10/telling-stories-hastings-2/

Thursday, 11 October 2012

Review of Anish Kapoor at Lisson Gallery


11/10/12
Anish Kapoor
Lisson Gallery, 29 & 52-54 Bell Street
10 October – 10 November 2012

To mark thirty years of the artist’s collaboration with the gallery, Lisson is currently giving over both of its Bell Street spaces, as well as the sculpture courtyard at number 29, to Anish Kapoor, offering him the chance to show an entirely new body of work, created in his studio over the past year.

Kapoor, who describes himself as “an artist who’s in between painting and sculpture,” started these works with a “simple proposition”: is it possible to make earth into sky? According to him, yes, it is. And this is achieved, it would appear, through using a mixture of organic materials and colours, by playing with scale, positioning small works next to and amongst larger ones, and by turning things inside out and upside down.


“I’m deeply interested in where things begin,” says Kapoor. The works in this exhibition look for places of origin; proto-places. They are simple forms, with a certain gestalt. Moving on from his earlier primary colour pigment works, Kapoor here has turned to using earth. In the Shadow of the Tree and the Knot of the Earth III looks, to me, like a beached whale, whilst In the Shadow of the Tree and the Knot of the Earth VI could be a wave lapping the shore, and In the Shadow of the Tree and the Knot of the Earth II, a volcanic cloud. Sculptures are laid out contrasting the geological and biological processes of autogeneration and erosion. Pump-generated concrete works of built-up deposits (e.g. Spittle), described by Kapoor as “a lump of stuff, almost as if unmade, proto-architectural”, stand next to polystyrene creations, eaten away by resin, and liberally coated in marble dust, evoking the natural forms of rock and coral (e.g. A Ghost’s Endeavour and Erosion). There are also smaller cement pieces, hanging on the wall, volcanic and cratered, evoking, Kapoor suggests, stigmata and the cult of St. Sebastian.


The most recognisably Kapoor room is the back room at number 29, which is hung with six perfect fibreglass hemispherical monochromes, with which Kapoor confesses to having had a long love affair. “[Monochrome] is the thing in my practice which I keep coming back to. I work in fibreglass a lot too – it’s very versatile.” Having spent many years making shiny objects, however, he is now experimenting with a mix of watercolour which produces something neither shiny nor matt. “I’m interested in colour as a condition, as a singularity: psychologically, physiologically, phenomenologically,” explains Kapoor, and, indeed, the works create a fully state-effecting experience: stand close enough to Green, for example, so as to be fully immersed and block out all surrounding vision, and it creates strange and hypnotic visual waves of yellow and blue, and an amplified echoing of voices and sounds in the surrounding gallery. Step back and look away, and everything becomes temporarily rose tinted.


The sculpture yard is home to the most recent work on display, Intersection, assembled only in the past couple of weeks, and made of Corten steel, the same material as in the canopy element of the controversial Arcelor Mittal Orbit sculpture at the Olympic Park. With reference to Brunelleschi and the long tradition of architecture, Kapoor seeks to “give geometry a strange organic presence,” and to play with contradictions by creating an object whose interior is larger than the shell which contains it – bringing the sky down to earth and turning it in upon itself.


The newest departure for Kapoor, however, is working with sound. Upstairs at numbers 54-56, he has created a full room installation, Anxious, which he describes as an “anxiety room”. There is nothing really there but a spotlight and a very low frequency sound, scarcely audible, but, apparently, the same frequency as has been recorded in haunted locations. The work is phenomenologically driven and deeply auto-suggestive, making even Kapoor himself feel anxious. Indeed, as I stood and moved about the space, feeling the slight changes in intensity, my chest tightened, my heart began to thump, and I found myself gasping for air.


Kapoor, who also has a big exhibition coming up at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Sydney, Australia, from December, is not yet resting on his laurels, despite his claim that he’d rather like to. “There’s still a lot to do,” he says, “so I keep doing it.”


Images:

Anish Kapoor
Installation View, Lisson Gallery, London 
2012
Courtesy of the artist and Lisson Gallery

Anish Kapoor
Untitled
2012
Cement
Courtesy of the artist and Lisson Gallery

Anish Kapoor
Installation View, Lisson Gallery, London 
2012
Courtesy of the artist and Lisson Gallery

Anish Kapoor
Intersection
2012
Corten steel
Courtesy of the artist and Lisson Gallery

Anish Kapoor
Anxious
2012
Enclosed space, sound
Courtesy of the artist and Lisson Gallery

Bedwyr Williams: Dear Both at Ceri Hand Gallery


11/10/12
Bedwyr Williams: Dear Both
Ceri Hand Gallery
8 October – 3 November 2012

As Ceri Hand’s third exhibition in London, albeit in a temporary space before moving into her permanent Fitzrovia gallery in spring 2013, she is proud to welcome Bedwyr Williams, the polymath artist-cum-stand-up-comedian who will represent Wales at the Venice Biennale 2013. Anyone brave enough to venture to Covent Garden’s Monmouth Street, despite the advertising information in the form of a letter from Williams threatening to “make you eat all of your bloody dental floss from the bin,” “bop you on your bonce with your shower head until a cartoon lump forms,” and “hang you on your own back fence like a Yule wreath,” will be greeted by an eclectic mixture of photography, sculpture, film work and drawings, and, if lucky, a performance from the man himself.


Words are a key part of Williams’ work, and titles vary from straightforward and obvious descriptions, to comical, clever puns and, on occasion, scarcely veiled threats. Don’t Ever Open My Mail Again (2012), for example, consists of three circular singed doormats, and Clocsiwr (2012) (Welsh for “clogs”) displays a pair of wooden-soled white trainers on a plinth. For Bad News (2012), two black nylon kites flutter in the breeze of an electric fan, foreboding and ominous, like the sails on the ship in the tragic legend of Tristan and Iseult, whilst, on a lighter note, Research Fellow (2012) consists of a door with Williams’ name, hanging on the wall above the staircase, suggesting perhaps the nature of how he sees his own oeuvre.


In a similar vein, The Teacher (2012) sets up an imaginary dialogue between a large and a small hammer, the former with its head slightly tilted to look down upon its protégé, whilst Artist Artist (2012) performs a real time one interaction between two speaker boxes, each uttering and echoing the title at seemingly random points in time.

Williams’ favourite work in the show is OO/HO (2012), a miniature model lamp post, lying on its side in a glass box. Making it made him sad, he says, as it is so pathetic! He is also fond of The Burn (2012), however, a shell encrusted BBQ, like a large-scale version of the trinket boxes available in all kitsch seaside souvenir shops. This one is, quite simply, “good fun”.


Living in a small village in North Wales, Williams is the first to confess that most people there, including his partner, probably think he’s a “weirdo”. He doesn’t think so, himself, however. After looking around the exhibition, hearing a performance reading requiring me to imagine myself a mole, and having a brief face-to-face conversation, I remain inconclusive as to my own view. One thing is for sure: he is not your run of the mill artist! To get a taste of what is to come on a larger scale in Venice next summer, and to decide for yourself, take a trip down Monmouth Street, but be careful – you were warned!


Images:

Bedwyr Williams
Dear Both
2012
HD video
5' 48 secs.
Photo: Anna Arca
Courtesy of the artist and Ceri Hand Gallery 

Bedwyr Williams
Strafed
2012
Drilled plastic tables and table & lights
Dimensions variable
Photo: Anna Arca
Courtesy of the artist and Ceri Hand Gallery 


Bedwyr Williams
The Burn
2012
Shell encrusted metal BBQ
23.6 x 23.6 x 42.5 in. / 60 x 60 108 cm
Photo: Anna Arca
Courtesy of the artist and Ceri Hand Gallery 








Sunday, 7 October 2012

Review of the Turner Prize 2012 Exhibition at Tate Britain


07/10/12
Turner Prize 2012 Exhibition
Tate Britain, London
2 October 2012 – 6 January 2013

Love it or hate it, the Turner Prize is upon us once again, and, after a year’s sojourn at the BALTIC, it has returned home to Tate Britain. This year’s nominees are film artists Luke Fowler (born 1978) and Elizabeth Price (born 1966), performance artist Spartacus Chetwynd (born 1973), and the architectural draughtsman Paul Noble (born 1963), for his intricate and disturbed designs for the dystopian metropolis, Nobson Newtown.




To read the rest of this review, please go to: http://www.studiointernational.com/index.php/turner-prize-2012-exhibition


Wednesday, 3 October 2012

Review of Thomas Houseago: I’ll be your sister and Special Brew at Hauser & Wirth London


03/10/12
Thomas Houseago: I’ll be your sister
Hauser & Wirth London, Savile Row, North Gallery
and
Thomas Houseago: Special Brew
Hauser & Wirth London, Savile Row, South Gallery
7 September – 27 October 2012

“A show is a necessary evil,” bemoans Thomas Houseago (born 1972), readily agreeing with his progenitor Constantin Brâncusi (1876-1957) that the best show of an artist’s work is in his studio. Nevertheless, Houseago is currently exhibiting at both Hauser & Wirth galleries in London’s Savile Row, as well as Hauser & Wirth Zürich (which was added at the last moment when it was discovered that there was not enough room for all of his new works in London), and the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts in Norwich, an intense undertaking for which he “went through so much fog and mist” and “often regretted taking them on.” The outcome, however, is phenomenal, and I am sure that visitors, who would otherwise not be able to enjoy Houseago’s monumental, terrifying, and yet vulnerable figurative sculptures in his studio, will not leave disappointed.


When Houseago arrived in London for his foundation course back in the early 1990s, he considered himself a performance artist, and this side of his character remains well evidenced in his sculptures to this day. Working typically with low-grade materials such as plaster, hemp, and iron rebar, and leaving gaping holes and rips, so that the internal structure is visible to all, finger prints, fist marks, and shoe prints are also evident across the surface, testament to the creative process. Houseago himself acknowledges the “highly sexual activity” of making a sculpture, which is “a bit like fighting, also, or dancing,” referencing particularly the squeezing of the clay.

At the Hauser & Wirth London shows, visitors can enjoy some of the very best of Houseago’s works. The walls of the south gallery are hung with six reliefs, including Face Panel II (Landscape) (2012), where the features are built up like plasticine sausages, and creases are scraped out by hand; Hands/Feet Panel (Walking Man) (2012), a bronze with giant-sized hands and feet protruding, recalling the marble head, hand, and foot fragments of the colossal statue of Constantine at the Palazzo dei Conservatori in Rome; and Finger Panel I (2012), where the various components appear like large-scale anatomical studies.


From the centre of the floor tower a selection of imposing, free-standing works, including 2 Fingers (2012), one of which is almost as tall as me, and Standing Owl I (2012), with his hollowed out eye socket revealing the interior of the structure, with its iron rebar skeleton, covered, just about, by a rough plaster skin. This anatomical revelation is also apparent in the case of Sleeping Boy I (2012), who lies on his back in a small side room, his face like a skeleton, eyes hollow, and looking altogether flayed, torn muscles and tissues on display. Contrarily, however, the pure white colour of the plaster seems at odds with this sense of violence, clean and serene.


A few doors down, in the north gallery, stand a further six giants. In the window are three penis columns, one of which, Portrait Column I (2012) towers proudly, suggestive of a Swiss Guard. Walking Figure I (City) (2012) picks up on the theme of anatomical studies, taking a close look at the mechanics of movement and the working of joints.

Most impressive, however, is the juxtaposition of the cowering, white plaster Sitting Woman (2012), huddled as if vulnerable and seeking to protect herself (and perhaps, indeed, she is), seated in the shadow of the immense black bronze Striding Figure II (Ghost) (2012), a threatening, dark, and imposing monster, who yet, because of his charred appearance, and the way in which his bare bones need the support of struts from within, is perhaps equally fearful and fragile. The question is suggested: tormentor or tormented?


According to Houseago, the best time to see his shows is at midnight, looking in through the windows, when they are lit up from the street lamps outside and throwing shadows. This may well be a striking sight, but I recommend a visit during opening hours too, to stand below the figures, overlapping your shadow with theirs, and marveling at the contradictions of strength and fragility, power and weakness, pride and vulnerability.


Images:

Thomas Houseago
Installation view, 'I'll be your sister', Hauser & Wirth London, Savile Row, North Gallery, 2012
© Thomas Houseago
Courtesy the artist and Hauser & Wirth
Photo: Alex Delfanne

Thomas Houseago
Installation view, 'Special Brew', Hauser & Wirth London, Savile Row, South Gallery, 2012
© Thomas Houseago
Courtesy the artist and Hauser & Wirth
Photo: Alex Delfanne

Thomas Houseago
Installation view, 'I'll be your sister', Hauser & Wirth London, Savile Row, North Gallery, 2012
© Thomas Houseago
Courtesy the artist and Hauser & Wirth
Photo: Alex Delfanne


Thomas Houseago
Striding Figure II (Ghost)
2012
Bronze
505.5 x 181.6 x 315 cm / 199 x 71 1/2 x 124 in
Installation view, 'I'll be your sister', Hauser & Wirth London, Savile Row, 2012
© Thomas Houseago
Courtesy the artist and Hauser & Wirth
Photo: Alex Delfanne



Tuesday, 2 October 2012

Review of Hanging Out – Photographs by Carinthia West at the Library Space


02/10/12
Hanging Out – Photographs by Carinthia West
The Library Space
21 September – 5 October 2012

“At the time I was just living my life, but looking back I can now see that it was something quite remarkable,” admits the model, actress and journalist, Carinthia West (born 1951), reflecting on her life in the 1970s, when she was, as she terms it, “just hanging out” with the likes of Mick Jagger, Ronnie Wood, David Bowie, Helen Mirren, Anjelica Huston – and the list could go on! Untrained in photography, but armed with a Canon EF 35mm single-lens reflex camera, West quite simply enjoyed taking snapshots of her friends as they went about their day-to-day business.




To read the rest of this review, please go to: http://diary.darlingcollective.com/?p=728

Review of RA Now at 6 Burlington Gardens


02/10/12
RA Now
6 Burlington Gardens
11 October – 11 November 2012

When the RA acquired 6 Burlington Gardens back in 2001, they had ambitious plans for how to use the building. Sadly, these had to be scaled down when they failed to receive Heritage Lottery Funding. When private funders kept asking what exactly the Royal Academicians themselves were doing to help the project, however, the idea of an auction was born. Out of this grew an exhibition, RA Now, the first ever in the 244-year history of the Academy to showcase works exclusively by its members.


Royal Academicians are elected into the junior member category by pre-existing members. Currently there are 80 of them. At the age of 75, they progress to the senior category. In addition, there are a number of Honorary Royal Academicians, elected by the Academy’s General Assembly. RA Now displays works by 121 current Academicians, and contains a wide range of styles, media, and generations. Rather like a pared down Summer Exhibition, without the clutter of public submissions, the show was co-ordinated by Allen Jones RA, who was keen to create untypical groupings of works, capturing the absolute diversity of the members.

Room one focuses on sculpture, and ranges from one of the doyens of the Academy, Anthony Caro, with Fold Centre (1984), a rusted steel workbench-like construction, made after a visit to Morocco and seeing the roofs of buildings there, through Richard Long’s Niger Drawing (2009), also inspired by an African adventure (it is a washboard he found and marked as he continued on his travels), to the most recent generation of Academicians, including Cornelia Parker (with a drawing made of snake venom and its antidote, Poison and Antidote Drawing, 2010) and Grayson Perry, who made a new pot especially for this show, depicting the (unlabelled, but it’s great fun to try to guess who is who) Academicians at one of their meetings (Bad Portraits of Establishment Figures, 2012).

Room two focuses on photography and the figurative. Antony Gormley’s Standing Matter XXXIV (2011) stands in stark contrast next to Allen Jones’ own piece, Enchanteresse (2007), whilst Gillian Wearing’s Self-portraits as Woman with Bandaged Face (1995-2012) have more than a little in common with Honorary RA Cindy Sherman’s Untitled (1980/2000), depicting herself, in sepia, dressed as both a doctor and a nurse, playing, of course, on gender stereotypes and issues of identity.


Room three ranges through some of the recognisable stars, with Jeff Koon’s ubiquitous monkey (albeit not in 3D, Monkey Train, 2007), and the obligatory Tracey Emin monoprint (A Fool, 2011). Jenny Saville, one of the youngest members, has donated one of her recent series of pencil studies, Mother and Child Study II (2009), where, based on Renaissance images of the Virgin and Child, she depicts her pregnant self and her son, as he struggles to escape her grip. An interesting contrast is also set up between the very different representations of leaves by David Hockney (Autumn Leaves, 2008, an inkjet printed computer drawing which just predates his foray into iPad drawings) on the one hand, and Gary Hume (Untitled, 2008/2011, a mixture of charcoal drawing, UV Perspex, and gloss paint) on the other.


Room four is turned over to large works. Broadly gestural and abstract, it includes the likes of Barbara Rae (Andalusia, 2009), Albert Irvin (Harmony, 2009), and Gillian Ayres (Cartouche I, 2001). A celebration of colour and scale, and a perfect use of the newly acquired lofty space.


Finally, down one level, room five is filled with architectural sketches and models, lest we forget some of the prestigious achievements of Academicians in this field. A sketch for David Chipperfield’s Neues Museum in Berlin hangs proudly above a scale model of Norman Foster’s 30 St. Mary Axe (the “Gherkin”) and the unrealised Museum of Tolerance by Frank O. Gehry.


An auction of the works will be held on 9 October, and the rest will be for sale throughout the month-long exhibition. Whether it is a financial success or not (and surely it can’t fail to be with the calibre of works included), the exhibition is a timely reminder of the skill and range of the members of this honoured Academy.


Images:

Grayson Perry RA
Bad Portraits of Establishment Figures, 2012
Ceramic pot
H. 78 cm
Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro Gallery

Jeff Koons Hon RA
Monkey Train, 2007
Silkscreen with archival pigmented inkjet on Somerset paper (edition of 40 plus 10 artist’s proofs)
83.5 x 66.3 cm
© Jeff Koons, courtesy of the artist

Gary Hume RA
Untitled, 2008/2011
Charcoal on paper, UV Perspex and gloss paint
90.5 x 130 cm


Norman Foster RA
30 St Mary Axe: scale model, 2012
Black Perspex, ProtoGen resin, silver plating
15 x 15 x 38 cm
Foster + Partners

Frank O. Gehry Hon. RA
Museum of Tolerance, Massing Model, 2009
Basswood, vinyl, microply, acrylic
10.16 x 25.40 x 43.18cm
Photography by dbox