"A Fine Line"

"A Fine Line," by Belgian sculptor Frederic Geurts, is currently in residence at the Fabrica Gallery in Brighton. Working as a volunteer at the gallery, I must sit with this monstrous sculpture - of which I have grown to admire - for hours at a time. My first meeting with this work was at my 'volunteer induction' meeting, where I was shown a small model of what the finished work would look like. This little model was seemingly incredibly fragile, but at the same time had an air of stability that screamed 'indestructible.' I did wonder how something of this fragility and apparent frailness would hold up on such a large scale. Looking around the exhibition space, I mused at the fact that this skeletal frame would be the only piece on show - a big job for any singular work in such an overpowering space (the building is a converted church, complete still, with altar).

The first day I sat in on the exhibition was the first day I saw the finished sculpture, and I have to admit, it definitely could hold its own in this already very strong space. The fine lines of the metal contrasted incredibly with the dark wood of the interior architecture of the building. A contrast that might not be seen if this work had been exhibited in the standard, white, characterless gallery spaces of today. At first I couldn't quite get my head around how this heavy plaster structure could sit so comfortably and safely upon metal legs as thin as cocktail sticks! But, it appeared to do so, without any support from above or below.

The plaster structure running along the top of the metal legs below appears almost as a white line in space from a distance. The metal stand is so unobtrusive that it is possible to almost just see the plaster - a wiggly line running through the gallery space. This was the idea that had driven Geurts. The concept of balance - a surprisingly sturdy, weighty top, to a conversely spindly, weak bottom. I remember one visitor came into the space with their child, who, upon spying the structure shouted "Look mummy, a giraffe!" And this I can see. To me, the sculpture is creature-like (it has move about a foot and a half along the floor since it was installed), taking on a life of its own. A baby foal struggling towards its first few steps.

The sculpture also changes dramatically when viewed from different angles. One afternoon, I decided to take a walk up to the altar. From here, the white line of the plaster appeared to meander uncontrollably towards the far wall - much more bendy than it seems from ground level. Visitors seem to grasp this necessity to view the creature from different angles, and as they stroll around it, like strolling around an animal at the zoo, they too seem bewildered, asking such questions as "It's nailed down, right?" Wrong. And this is what makes it so spectacular. Designed specifically for the space at Fabrica, it compliments the already existing architecture so well, whilst pressing issues about balance, fragility, space and material upon visitors. Of course, visitors get their own chance to try out balancing tasks, with large jenga and dominoes lying around the space, they are encouraged to experiment with the boundaries of balance and raise any questions niggling at them after viewing the structure. A fine example of balance at it's best.

Brighton Museum Work

I have been doing a couple of days a week working in the Design Department at the Brighton Museum. I have mainly been measuring exhibition areas and drawing them up on the computer, as well as helping to come up with ideas for standardising the Museum's exhibition spaces. Above are a couple of scale drawings of exhibition case design ideas for an upcoming Archaeology exhibition. I created the images using Adobe Illustrator.

Picasso: Art as a "Weapon."

Pablo Picasso once described painting as, "not made to decorate houses." Instead, the artist described it as "an instrument of offensive and defensive war against the enemy." Picasso, despite his paintings appearing to be quite unoffensive, enjoyable pieces, actually intended for his work to help with the progression of Communism and anti-Fascism, of which he was an active supporter.

One of his most famous pieces of course, being Guernica. Guernica is a highly descriptive and moving image depicting the Spanish Civil War, and is one of the many paintings that Picasso completed to portray his disgust for Fascism. Despite the apparent lack of politics and personal belief in much of his work - (particularly his earlier stuff - his still lifes, portraits and other ordinary-object paintings) - it is actually quite apparent throughout Picasso's career.

His Charnel House, painted in 1944-45, shows a murdered family, thrown under their kitchen table. There are definite links to Goya's "Disasters of War" and Charnel House. The black, white and grey shades that Picasso uses in his more serious works, such as Guernica and Charnel House, show the gloom and morbidity of war, Fascism and, ultimately, living in a world that does not fit in with your systems of belief.

"Modern Masters" - Henri Matisse.

Just finished watching the 'Henri Matisse' episode of the BBC's new "Modern Masters" series. The picture I have attached to this post is Matisse's Piano Lesson, which I have never really taken much notice of before, but have now very swiftly changed my mind! The image depicts the artist's son, Pierre, having his piano lesson. Pierre supposedly despised these piano lessons, and this becomes very obvious once you analyse the image. The shape in the top right hand corner of the piece can be identified as Pierre's piano instructor; she hovers above him in a very dominating, strict and almost threatening manner. Her appearance away from the main content of the painting further shows Pierre's disregard for his teacher. Her feet are shown as raised way above Pierre's head; a clear teacher - pupil divide. The sharp angles of the metronome sitting directly in the eye line of the student further lead us to believe that Pierre was in fact daunted by these lessons, and possibly music itself.

The colours Matisse used in the painting are not those usually associated with his work at around this time; the time of the First World War. There is a vast expanse of grey tone right across the picture, possibly showing the morbidity of the time. Pierre is shown as much younger than he actually would have been at the time the painting was created, which seems to portray the young age that men were when they went to fight. At the time of painting the image, Pierre was in fact at war, and Matisse was obviously unsure when or if, he would return. The painting, then, almost has a nostalgic, wistful feel to it.

Overall, after reconnecting with this image, after a long time of disregarding it as not one of Matisse's greatest works (after all, on looking at the image without prior background knowledge, it might be difficult to decipher this as a Matisse image; aside, perhaps, from the decoration adorning the piano and the railings), I have readjusted my stance. The picture is completely harmonious, and with its underlying symbolic ideas, twisted in with a bit of Cubist influence, the outcome becomes a piece which highlights Matisse's nostalgia, and possible worry about his son's fortune at a time when no one was really sure what the future held.

References: http://smarthistory.org/matisse-piano-lesson.html

Krikey! Kentemporary Prints!

For a module at Uni, I have been working as part of a team to create an exhibition about prints from scratch. From deciding upon the theme, to the hanging of the exhibition. We decided to create an exhibition based on contemporary artists from the Kent area, as we thought this would rouse the most interest from people in the local area; particularly school students and local residents.

Today was the dress rehearsal hang for the exhibition, and I am very excited about how its starting to look! We have some really stunning and interesting prints in the exhibition, from more pop-arty works by Peter Blake to much darker works by Ana Maria Pacheco. The exhibition includes prints that with very 'now' subject matters - from global warming to globalisatison.

The final hang is tomorrow, and the exhibition officially opens on Monday - exciting times!

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?