NICK ORSBORN - "The Trials and Triumphs of Humanity"

Born in London in 1948, Nick Orsborn’s artistic career began when his poster-painting of a Virginia creeper was “heaped” with enthusiastic praise by his teacher when he was just nine years old. Osborn’s work is reminiscent, nostalgic almost, of bygone holidays, festivals and the bright, hot days of summer. He describes his work as “exuberant, colourful, sometimes humorous, sometimes ironic, but always optimistic!” His work is definitely celebratory, filled with colours and subjects that can’t help but distract our minds from the hustle, bustle and stress of everyday life. The gloomy, dismal, darker side of the world is eliminated from his work, but he claims that this was not a “decision” that he made. He claims he has never wished or tried to include the morbid and melancholic in his work, stating that “there’s enough suffocating Puritanism around already – there’s no need for me to waste my time and energy adding to it.”
Orsborn freely acknowledges his creative debt to artists such as Paul Klee, Picasso, Matisse and Hockney, all of whose influence are visible in much of his work, in the colours he uses and his overall philosophy and belief regarding art as entertainment and pleasure. Matisse once claimed of his own work: “In my paintings, I wish to create a spiritual remedy, similar to a comfortable armchair which provides rest from physical expectation for the spiritually working, the businessman as well as the artist.” On occasions, Osborn’s optimistic attitude has seen critics and writers describing his work as ‘lightweight,’ but, there are two sides to life; the good and the bad, and then there’s the rest in between. So why indeed can’t the good hold as much weight as the bad in the art world today?

Osborn’s works are predominantly watercolour paintings, with the odd oil painting thrown in for good measure. He co-founded Cicada Jewellery, with his ex-wife Pat Thornton, in 1973, where he made and sold hand cast resin earrings, brooches and necklaces. His creation of jewellery slowly wound down, along with his marriage, but he revived it again in 2003. He now “regards the resin jewellery as the three dimensional expression” of his work, and increasingly finds that “there are numerous crossover points” between his paintings and his jewellery. Orsborn was elected to the Membership of the Royal Institute of Painters in Watercolours in 2007.
In this interview, Orsborn discusses his work, his influences, and in a broader context, the role of the artist in society today and the possible crisis of the current art market.

Kate Davey: How do you think your practice of art has changed and evolved over the years?

Nick Orsborn: I think that years of experience of painting have deepened my understanding of my relationship between the abstract qualities of the medium (predominantly watercolour) and the ideas I am trying to express. As a figurative painter it has undoubtedly taken me a while to become aware of the deep difference between a ‘picture’ and a ‘painting,’ but at this stage in my life’s work I think I have come to an understanding of this, and hopefully my work is the better for it!

KD: What do you, as an artist, get from your work?

NO: Deep satisfaction when a painting (or a jewellery design!) works – and equally deep frustration when it doesn’t. I am a very stubborn person where my creativity is concerned and I will try and try again until I am happy with the outcome. I do not work to any absolute rules of composition, style, colour, content etc… I really believe each and every separate act of creation gives birth to its own rules which can be adhered to or discarded at will. That sounds like anarchy and it probably is – but I love it!

KD: And what do you hope your viewers get out of your art?

NO: In a word – pleasure. I don’t have any really specific intentions to convey; each painting is different – some have double meanings in their imagery, others are less concerned with image and more concerned with the abstract qualities of the medium – for me the act of painting is in itself the reason for painting. As to the viewer making their own interpretations – I think that is great – it means that in a silent and abstract way the painting itself, in the absence of the artist, has communicated with the observer. It really doesn’t matter if their interpretation is different to any feelings I may have for my work – the very fact of their interpretation means that their imagination has been activated – and that has to be a good thing!

KD: Moving on to the art world in a broader context, what role do you think the artist has in society today – has it changed since you first started practicing?

NO: I would say that artists today fulfil many roles – for some, their work stands as a comment or even a criticism of society, while some see their work as satisfying the desires and demands of particular sections of the public, and others (and I count myself as one of these) regard themselves as part of the entertainment business. The whole perception of ‘what is art?’ has changed in the past fifty years – many artists have abandoned traditional media in favour of performance and installation art – the creative use of film, video and computer generated expression has increased dramatically, and even as a practitioner of a fairly conventional medium – paint – I nevertheless applaud many of these innovative approaches to creativity and the expression of concepts and ideas.

KD: So, finally, what is your opinion of the future of art, and of the art market?

NO: Art has to have a future in any civilised society. In all its varied aspects it represents the trials and triumphs of humanity against the dead hand of social and religious bigotry, hatred, conflict and ignorance. Whatever form Art takes in the future it should contribute to a greater understanding of the human condition and our relationships with a universe of which we are all an indivisible part. As for the future of the Art Market – it must, in my opinion, stop being the preserve of an elitist few – a playground for wealthy and cynical speculators, who, to quote Oscar Wilde “know the price of everything and the value of nothing.” It must broaden its horizons and become much more inclusive of humanity at large – this will require considerable effort not only on the part of arts administrators but also artists themselves – perhaps there have been a few gleams of light recently – I’m thinking of the runaway success of Tate Modern. Much more needs to be done to promote all manifestations of art to the greatest number of people and to see them respond with enthusiasm and imagination. I think it will come to pass – but then I’m an optimist – the bottle is always half-full, never half-empty – even when I’ve drunk it dry!

So, as Osborn quite rightly muses, “the future is unknown, the past is gone. There is only the constantly moving dot of existence which we call now.” His views of the art world today hold true with many of his contemporaries; the expansion of the market to a wider audience is much needed. Art is a form of expression, a show of ideas and concepts, an invitation for interpretation, and why shouldn’t everyone be invited to express and interpret something that is fundamentally based in the roots of our society, of our everyday life? Running small Open Art Houses in the Brighton area (his current one is being held throughout December), Orsborn is doing just this, by enabling a wider variety of people to have access to art.

Regarding his own future as an artist, Osborn explains “there are some ideas brewing in my brain to do with making sculptural paintings out of work on paper – a kind of mad origami – but who knows?!”

PETE AND REPEAT WERE SITTING ON A FENCE. PETE FELL OFF. WHO WAS LEFT? REPEAT. Pete and Repeat.

23 September - 13 December 2009, 176 Project Space

Pete and Repeat, a title taken from Bruce Nauman’s 1987 video ‘Clown Torture’, currently at 176 Project Space, is an exhibition of works from the Zabludowicz collection. A combination of painting, photography, installation, sculpture and video are used to illustrate the exhibition’s theme of ‘repetition.’ To many, this may seem a broad theme for an exhibition, with a wide variety of contemporary works capable of fitting into this category. However, the exhibition asks the viewer to question originality, mass production and the authenticity of art today. Does repetition and reproduction destroy originality and uniqueness, characteristics that are so often associated with art? Can anything ever be the same twice?

From Elad Lassry’s ‘Three Variations on a Bob’ to Richard Prince’s ‘Four Women Looking in the Same Direction’, we are constantly reminded that pattern and repetition are a frequent occurrence in everyday life, and we feel urged to look for this repetition in our own familiar environment.

Many of the works distract our minds with the query of whether this is art, or mass production, whilst persuading us to investigate the space within the gallery; a former Methodist chapel. Ai Weiwei and Serge Spitzer’s ninety-six Chinese porcelain vases look like common, mass produced white porcelain vases on entering the room in which they are displayed. But as we wander around, we catch a glimpse of a pattern emerging on the opposite sides of the vases; inviting us to move around the space. No two vases are the same, the pattern differs in size from vase to vase, and we are inclined to think that maybe no two things can ever really be identical.

Sherrie Levine and Richard Prince are two artists who are united in conveying a very similar problem – when does art cease to be authentic? Sherrie Levine is famous for producing art that is ultimately copies of other works. Her remake of Duchamp’s urinal in a golden metallic cast, shown here in the exhibition, is no exception. The exhibition questions our perceived assumptions about originality and creativity.

Pete and Repeat offers us a multitude of diverse ways to look at repetition. Neil Hamon shows crime scenes photographed from different perspectives, and Keith Tyson allows us to play real-life spot the difference with his installation. Repetition is a broad theme, but one clever element of this exhibition, is its ability to enable people to question perceived ideas, and answer them from their own point of view. The works in the exhibition don’t have labels or captions residing next to them, to shed light on the viewer, instead, we are able to come to our own conclusions - but are still able to check details about the piece on exiting the room it is displayed in!

On the one hand, this is definitely too broad a theme, with repetition being too broad a term, to examine in one single exhibition. But it does start the ball rolling in thinking about the current state of the art world, the difference between repetition and mass production, and ideas of authenticity and originality. Is repetition just plain lazy? Is a copy still original art? And with the development of technology, is art moving away from the idea that there can be only one authentic original of a piece?

From the Outside In? The Museum of Everything

Outsider art, coined in 1972 by critic Roger Cardinal, refers to the work undertaken by untaught or self-taught artists. ‘Art Brut’ or ‘Raw Art,’ a phrase coined by Jean Dubuffet, is usually outside the sphere of the commercial or ‘official’ art world, giving us a glimpse of stories and narratives that we would otherwise have no access to. The Museum of Everything, founded by James Brett, is located in a converted dairy and recording studio offering us a quiet, quirky refuge outside of the bustling streets of North West London. It seems ironic, that such a gallery should exist, after all, outsider art is characterised by its ‘segregation from the mainstream,’ with much of the work itself being disregarded by its creator, never intended to be seen as art.

On entering the building, there is a sense of incompleteness; bare walls and creaky floors. But this simply adds to the character; making the art very accessible. A labyrinth of corridors and rooms each offer us a different but equally surreal experience. Raw stories and narratives, never intended to be heard, echo around the walls.

The first room we enter holds the work of Nek Chand, an Indian self-taught artist, famous for creating the Rock Garden of Chandigarh. Here, almost like a nativity scene, figures stare down at us from both sides of the corridor. Chand has successfully made objects that were already in existence into something dreamlike; another world, into which we can peer. This unintended transformation of practical, functional objects to objects of aesthetic pleasure is a common feature here. Emery Blagdon’s machines of healing, formerly with a purpose other than aesthetic pleasure, take an intricate sculptural form, looking out from behind glass windows.

Then of course, most associated with outsider art, are the works by the mentally unstable, psychotic or incarcerated. Louis Wain’s cats; progressively becoming more and more distorted and colourful as his mental state deteriorated and the work of Karl Josef Radler, who was told at the age of fifty that he was a danger to his family. Diagnosed with schizophrenia, his incarceration allowed him time to paint, offering him a therapeutic relief.

All the corridors lead to the centre of the exhibition; a tall, spacious room with paintings cluttering every wall. The design of this room reflects the characteristics of the art it displays. Paintings of mismatched sizes hang together, covering the great expanse of wall, constructing a collage of this child-like world. This jumbled way of displaying the art catches us asking the question – what is it that these artists fear about empty space, about the existence of nothing? It is overwhelming, almost, to be completely surrounded by these raw, personal truths.

These artists create obsessively; it is a compulsion for them, a way in which they are able to communicate. James Castle’s work becomes all the more interesting, once we note that he never learned any language. His chosen communication was through the silent medium of his work. Madge Gill’s pen doodles of women seem to have stepped out of another era, evidence of her communication with a spiritual world and her spirit guide, Myrninerest.

Arnulf Rainer, writing about some of the artworks in the exhibition, claims that this is a place where childhood and adulthood have collided. It becomes apparent that to many of these ‘artists,’ their work is relief, therapy and ritual. They obsessively cover canvases and fill gaps with the most intricate of patterns. Empty space to them is a daunting thing, and this exhibition, in its character and curation, conveys this compulsion, quirkiness, other-worldliness and intricate obsessive detail sublimely.

But now, the glaringly obvious question remains: is it still outsider art, even now that it has been brought ‘inside’? These artists do not fit into categories, and they cannot be compared to their contemporaries. This art is captivating because it was not made to be seen; it is untarnished by trends and fashions. It tells the truth, regardless of whether the truth is pleasing or not. And it is this truth that really makes this exhibition compelling and distinct. It really is another world within our own.

The Crisis of Criticism?

Is art criticism in a state of crisis? This is a question that many from the art world are asking today. Art critics no longer have the power to make or break an artist’s career, or so it seems. They no longer pre-empt emerging art movements, one of the former functions of the art critic. Instead, it seems they are the ones pre-empted by curators. Artists once relied heavily on the influence of the critic for publicity and the securing of exhibitions. Today, however, criticism seems to hold less and less importance in the eyes of the artist. Art criticism, as a form of writing, no longer announces the innovative new ‘movement’ that art has to offer, perhaps because in today’s art world, there are no hard-and-fast movements. Contemporary art generally doesn’t fit into a definable category, with set characteristics and ‘rules’. Art today tends to be a culmination of individual works, with individual aims and interpretations, open to analysis. Maybe for this reason, art criticism can no longer truly exist. For it seems we are not at liberty to criticise, when there are no comparisons to be made and no boxes to tick.

Despite the ‘crisis’ that art criticism is supposedly in, I’m still of the opinion that it, or rather, art writing forms a vital function within the art world today. I will explain what I mean when I say art writing, rather than criticism. David Joselit - and I agree with him here - argues that we must define ‘art criticism’ before we can discuss the ‘crisis’ it is in. Art criticism is based on making a judgement and not just an interpretation. I think interpretation and contextual information about a work of art, are still vitally important, but perhaps art criticism has lost its way. Benjamin Buchloh claims that “the public sphere of the museum is no longer calling for that third independent voice between the producer and the recipient.” Art criticism today has become very ‘market dependent’ and the popular press continue to play a much greater role, becoming the place where judgement today seems to be the most influential. The art world is expanding, and with this expansion comes the opportunity for anyone to write about art. The rise of the ‘blogger’ means anyone is at liberty to post their thoughts on the World Wide Web. Raphael Rubenstein claims that there is more criticism being written than ever before. But how much weight does this criticism have? If it holds no importance for the artist, then who is it really aimed at? If we are all able to write art criticism, then what makes one art critic’s opinion more important than another’s?

Conceptual artists have eliminated the critic – states John Miller – so the audience can more directly understand the intentions of the work. I believe that by eliminating the critic, we are better equipped to make our own judgements. However, art writing, whose function is to highlight a specific interpretation or give us contextual information, can be extremely beneficial in our reading of the work.

Contemporary art is often based solely on the audience’s interpretation of the work, and I can’t help but think that art writing plays an important role in forming interpretations and transmitting the intent of the artist. Often it is hard to interpret a contemporary work by one’s self, and writings by other artists, critics and journalists often make the intention of the work much clearer, even if it is formed by a single person’s opinion. It makes us think more consciously about the work. Cathy Lomax agrees, claiming that writing to accompany work can often make the work. For example, Michael Asher’s Column of Air, often described as invisible art, relies heavily on text to accompany it. Julian Mayers noted that “Asher’s Column of Air blew down on viewers as they read its wall text.” Chris Sollars backs up this view, that often text is needed to show the work’s full potential, by saying “the invisible is hard to present without a reference. These references take the form of documentation of an event or process.” Sollars talks about Gianni Motti’s nothing by Force, Everything through the Power of the Mind. In this piece, Motti sent an invitation to the Columbian president, to meet about an artwork, to which he received no reply. Motti then went to the press, stating he would use telepathy to send messages to the president about resigning. Sollars argues that “this invisible communication doesn’t become concrete until it is in print.”

So, one might ask, is art writing not more important today, due to the nature of art today? Bringing me back to my point - the difference between criticism and writing. Art criticism, to me it seems, is no longer beneficial due to the individual character of conceptual art today. Art writing, however, is all the more necessary, whether it is contextual notes giving us an insight into the background of the work, or an interpretation for us to grapple with when coming to our own conclusions about art.

References:
Raphael Rubenstein –“Is art criticism in crisis?” - http://www.abc.net.au/rn/bookshow/stories/2006/1695912.htm
Frieze Magazine – “A brief history of invisible art” - http://www.frieze.com/issue/review/a_brief_history_of_invisible_art/
Shotgun Review – “A brief history of invisible art” – http://www.shotgun-review.com/archives/wattis_institute_at_cca/a_brief_history_of_invisible_a.html
G. Baker, R. Krauss, B. Buchloh, A. Fraser, D. Joselit, J. Meyer, R. Storr, H. Foster, J. Miller, H. Molesworth – “Round Table: The Present Conditions of Art Criticism” October. The MIT Press (Spring 2002), pp. 200 - 228