Well, here I am.
I like blogs. Not *my* blogs, I haven't got any, unless you count my facebook account. I let my livejournal account die some time ago as my friends page slowly accumulated a miasma of drama. None of it was anything to do with me so I buggered off, irritated that my ego was being eclipsed by other celestial objects with steeper gravity wells.
I had a whale of a time on Deadjournal pretending to have multiple personality disorder. It was popular too, but only among people who were tickled by the idea that my soul was a bit like a conglomerate of Vertigo comic characters. I enjoyed the idea also, being fond of such, but eventually I ran out of plot. Drama's all very well but it needs plot to move it along.
So these days I'm writing fiction, with what I hope are pretty pictures. Perhaps this will turn into a positive experience! What would be extra great is if it turned into a positive experience for more than one person, with the benefits to me consequent on such positivity dependent on the number of people it expands to cover. Fiscal benefits, with any luck...
There's something incredibly naked about a blog. I find myself editting and self-censoring terribly. I await the pouncing of ten thousand trollish boors. They never appear. This paranoia's my own fault for frequenting internet message boards - a habit a bit like smoking.
This evening I have mostly been putting about the Internet that I want an iPhone app where you do that finger-pinchy thing to Tony Blair's head, animated and squeaking "it was the right decision it was the right decision" getting tinier and tinier and squeakier and more high pitched and indignant with each implacable pinch until he's so small you can just tap the screen lightly and he pops like a zit. Each time I post this demand I experience a nicotine-like rush of dirty self-admiration at it's cleverness.
I hate iPhones, but only because I think I'm supposed to. One day our children will do the finger-swipey thing at the washing up staring at it dumbly and wondering why it doesn't work. This will be bad, or at least, I'm supposed to THINK it will be bad because Steve Jobs is the new Bill Gates. Jobs. Gates. Who will inherit the title from Steve? Gates made Windows and Jobs made Apps, so if we're to extrapolate from that tenuous mapping perhaps their surname will reflect the focus of their innovative business practice?
Perhaps the next big thing in computer land will be a kind of data cluster that aggregates all your previous bile-induced message board postings and spurts them all over someone's profile page in a reflexive deluge of iSpite at the touch of a button, or the lick of a tongue-sensitive screen. Like popping a zit. Or taking a big drag off a nasty, expensive, smelly cigar.
The next hate-figure to be pelted with drive-by witticisms on the Information SuperHighway will be called Bob Zits. Or Jack Butts...
On Shapes and Things
Richard Healy and Gemma Holt
Sierra Metro
The sixth chapter of E.H. Gombrich’s 1979 book The Sense of Order: A Study in the Psychology of Decorative Art provides a ‘unique language’ through which Richard Healy and Gemma Holt (in a new creative collaboration instigated and supported by the gallery) have considered the bonds and hierarchies that exist between pattern and object, whilst effecting to explore the divergent and often contentious relationship that exists between fine art and design practice.
Gombrich’s chapter begins with discussion of the kaleidoscope. Invented in 1816 as a scientific tool and named after the Ancient Greek for ‘beautiful form’, it quickly became appropriated as a toy, creating thrills and wonderment at its ability to subvert the natural order and familiar ways of seeing. Similarly in Shapes and Things, common and familiar order has been displaced and recontextualised, and whilst there is beauty here, it’s of a strange, awkward type, characterized by compositional peculiarity and visual clashes- a beauty that necessitates observation from many perspectives and allowed to unravel and reveal itself over time.
The ‘fruitful tension between functional and ornamental hierarchies’ noted by Gombrich, appears to be of significant concern in the exhibition. Objects sit awkwardly in this interstice between function and ornament- the mirrors, the pouffes, the lighting, even the curtains have an inferred domestic purpose- yet their installation in the gallery renders them untouchable and facile. Two polarized exceptions exist: Holt’s hexagonal plinth, built and utilized with the specific purpose of serving Healy’s projection, and the fake wall segment installed by Healy, adorned by his Studio Plant Study II, which sits uniquely as an object of sheer decoration.
Closer consideration and inspection of the designed elements themselves, provides further disquieting distancing from the familiar. Etched into the mirrors is a malevolent arrangement of sawtoothed forms, the three pouffes- stripped of their cordial covers sit together like naked chopped sections of a superfluous ornamental pillar, the curtains hover at a disconcerting height above the floor like mischievous apparitions, purposefully concealing segments of the space. This conflicting disposition in the objects occurs similarly in the artists’ use of colour. The clash of coral against grey strains and upsets the eye- yet the vibrant glow of the lunar pendant, first encountered as a haze through a curtain or a tantalizing reflected blaze in a mirror, prompts a desire to bask in its glow. Its night-light blush, rhythmically seeping from fuchsia into aquamarine and turquoise, intimating warmth and comfort against the cold stone background.
As time passes, a considered grouping of objects becomes apparent. Each of the three curtains is paired with its ‘own’ selected elements that it shields and protects. Despite these individual arrangements, there is a distinct sense of lopsidedness to the composition overall. Given that Gombrich remarks that ‘symmetry implies cohesion’, it would seem that the artists have consciously shunned a more predictable order in favour of something more dynamic and less visually comfortable. Gombrich also discusses the importance of the ‘centre’- how the kaleidoscope draws the eye into the middle and how we unconsciously esteem centrality more generally (in religious iconography, ceremonial events etc). Shapes and Things has no centre. The middle of the gallery is empty of objects- barring a curtains edge hanging vaguely nearby- from this central viewpoint the balance of the objects presented is out of line.
Healy’s projected video seems to act as something of a synopsis of the exhibition content. It presents a perpetual conveyor of analogous elements: fractal geometric shapes, minimalist creations and monochromatic segments of pattern. The effect is immersive and hypnotic, and once you lose yourself in the visuals they work to echo, not only the close vicinity, but provide a kaleidoscopic vision of works in festival exhibitions elsewhere: the fragmented architecture of Coleman & Hogarth’s Staged, Iran do Espirito Santo’s gradated monochrome wall, the hunks of marble set to create Martin Creed’s new Scotsman Steps glide systematically across the screen.
Overtime the disjointed temporary contents of Shapes and Things begin to converse with their surroundings- revealing and highlighting the peculiar idiosyncrasies of the gallery space itself. Healy’s pulsating orb acts as an inadvertent parody of the bright redundant buoys hanging outside the window, whilst there is a previously overlooked awareness of how three white pillars abruptly defy the comfortable symmetry of the other six. Other patterns, shapes and shades from the work play-off the heavy permanent wooden fixtures, coatings of dark mustard paint and the frosted floral glass panels.
When discussing the general response to the effect of the kaleidoscope, Gombrich notes that people ‘usually respond with delight, but after a few exclamations of ‘ah’ and ‘oh’ they put it aside and talk of other things.’ Healy and Holt’s Shapes and Things provokes a similar initial reaction, however, there is enough intriguing conflict and intelligent construct here to hold the viewers interest long after this original impression has passed.
Image credits:
Shapes and Things, Richard Healy and Gemma Holt, 2010
Installation view, Sierra Metro, Edinburgh
Images courtesy the artists and Sierra Metro
Photography: Chris Park
"He lent me his jacket and we took to the outside air to collect light that would otherwise be lost if not for the refracting glass of snow. Snow is soon then ice and all angles of thought are different from before. He sings and slips ahead in to the night. I have his jacket still - I wear it with such memories as below..."
A friend worthwhile for festivities: I was never allowed in his kitchen though for some reason - it was just this one room - one room that soon became two.
The first time I visited his flat was on a darkened icy December evening ridden with more snowfall - his belongings littered the close; you followed them up the stairs to his front door that was usually ajar with paraphernalia. When inside you made your way through curtains draped across collected junk - books piled in corners and framed photographs and drawings from artist friends decadent upon the walls. There was no central heating; only warmth from a small electric heater burning the smell of his floor and drapery, from elegant damp, into the dry comforting crisp of sheep's rug ash wood and oak recline. There was one curtain in the room that covered just one of two magnificent single glazed windows - the other was simply left bare. After watching the snow fall outside your eyes would follow shelf upon shelf of sheet music making their way to a grand piano crushed in the corner behind the door, through which you walked in. Upon greeting you he disappeared into the kitchen.
I took this absence for my collected observation. A low light dangles from the high ceiling above; reaching the coffee table in the middle of the room, save for a few hitches on the metric scale. The table is cluttered with half made Christmas decorations, glass spherical paperweights, broken ceramic pots and teacups accompanied by an ashtray containing change from the day's cigarettes.
I was presented with wine complete with a mug decorated with lights and birds and trees. He played the piano as I gazed around the ornaments that danced with every note he delicately placed upon each string.
Preceding the second visit, we met in a second hand bookshop that sold sheet music. A dusty old man who spend most of our visit on the phone to his younger lover - I was listening in - sold us a collection of Bach (1685 - 1750), some Czech composer, a neat bit of Debussy (1862 - 1918), and an almanac on Peruvian interior design.
We arrived back to his flat. Heater on, coffee table set he shuffled again to the piano. Heater pulled closer to my feet, coffee table redressed, I sat on the sofa again, busying myself fixing his broken ceramic objects. One ceramic container had the function of keeping the smaller - yet anything but negligible - pieces that would in the end complete each puzzle. The objects re-formed themselves by way of my fingers as his hands recited the sheet music in front of him. Several compositions later a teapot, a fish ornament, and a few cups and sauces lay in front of me.
I stood up, stretched, turned the low orange light on at the wire and swung it as a pendulum, then crossed to the other side of the coffee table to catch it. There I let the light go again, across the paperweights, dancing its way through each reflection, up in to the air to where I sat before. It was then I noticed a hint of another reflection. On the wall directly behind and above the sofa the light fashioned upon an inch of a mirror behind another large piece of material.
Piano sounding in my ears, notes seemingly louder with each step, I approached. I pulled at the cloth that then fell to the floor. And before me was a great reflective surface unleashed, revealing the room of activity, twice the volume it was before: in the bottom corner towards the frame - to me his back remained - the pianist had stopped.
On IRAN DO ESPIRITO SANTO
Ingleby Gallery, Until 25th September
On seeing Iran do Espirito Santo’s exhibition at Ingleby, a friend commented that the work had ‘no temperature’. At the time this laconic remark was heeded unquestioningly, seeming as it did, to surmise the work on show with a concise precision. Only later did I considered the potential implication of such a response- what is it to be without temperature? Is it comparable to lacking a pulse? Or even being devoid of a heart?
Using a stark, minimal palette of black, white and intermittent shades of grey, Espirito Santo’s sculptural objects, photograms and wall-painted works are executed with a clinical precision- free from trace of human hand or emotional expression. He plays with contrasts and contradictions; razor-sharp lines sit alongside fuzzy edges, some surfaces reflect, others absorb and certain works treat the permanent with temporary gesture whilst others bestow permanence on the ephemeral.
Two photogram series demonstrate his scientific sensibility- seven different shades of grey resulting from staggered exposure times make-up Standby, whilst Twist depicts a quintet of identical sheets of paper, folded five separate ways to create a series of distinct new forms. Pencil graphite has then been applied to add a further grey shade to the fractured geometric shapes- creating a cryptic tonal interplay across the series. Photograms, created by placing objects directly onto the surface of photosensitive paper before exposing them to light, were famously utilised by Man Ray in the 1920s. However, whilst his Dadaist predecessor playfully explored the arbitrary potential of the medium by adding and moving objects around mid-exposure, Espirito Santo employs a far more rigid, controlled approach. Exposure times are calculated and recorded, and shapes and tones meticulously measured, in order to produce results that appear to have been pre-determined far in advance.
Sitting proudly at the gallery entrance is the exhibition’s poster-boy, Water Glass. An item of exceptional, austere beauty- it sits like a rare, untouched gem upon its white plinth. On closer inspection however, the glass, apparently filled to the brim, appears impossibly perfect– causing critical suspicions over the integrity of what its title claims it to be. By revealing it to be solid crystal, the exhibition floor plan decisively and disappointingly shatters its intriguing ambiguity (further disappointment regarding its presumed rarity is to be had in discovering that, as one of an edition of 25, it has 24 identical twins being admired elsewhere).
This procedure of taking banal, domestic items and transforming them into precious objects of desire recurs in the artists practice; an awkwardly outsized pencil formed in stainless steel lies discreetly upstairs, whilst further works see lightbulbs cast in solid glass and tin cans enlarged and finished with black gloss. In creating these preserved representations, he bestows an alternative value upon these familiar forms and a practical lifespan far greater than their traditional expectancy. However, this immortalisation process also effectively robs the object of its fundamental function, creating in it a sense of melancholic redundancy- turning it into an impotent fetish; a pencil that can’t write, a frozen lightbulb that doesn’t light, a glass that won’t pour.
En Passant 5, a dramatic gradated greyscale wall-painting encompasses the entire first floor gallery space. Created by a team of assistants over the course of two weeks, the works consists of one horizontal and three vertical striped walls. Evocative of Robert Irwin and Michael Asher, it embodies established minimalist principles, creating in the viewer a heightened awareness of the relationship between the work and the environment in which it is shown- as well as their own self in relation to both the work and the space. The human endeavour that went into its production is belied by the mechanical precision and consistency of its final appearance and any domestic warmth of the household paint is lost in its harsh industrial pallor.
Espirito Santo’s work has a cool, slick elegance that whilst proving alluringly seductive, initially seems ultimately primed to deliver a cold-shoulder.
But then the natural light outside shifts.
A new sun causes the walls upstairs to dance and ebb producing an effect that both destabilizes and thrills- elsewhere an ember of vivid light refracts in the crystal glass. It becomes clear that the artist has consciously considered and employed light, not only as a producer, but also as an ongoing catalyst to alter and affect the work after its completion. It is perhaps this factor that gives the work life and temperature- provided, that is, you’re in the right place at the right time to see it.
A short screenprinted run of one of my favourite objects in the world, the polypropylene stacking chair. This four spot-colour run was made in the fantastic Glasgow Print Studio. A small quantity will be for sale soon.
A short screenprinted run of one of my favourite objects in the world, the polypropylene stacking chair. This four spot-colour run was made in the fantastic Glasgow Print Studio. A small quantity will be for sale soon.
I was struck by the series of new adverts that have been created for the website Confused.com. Are those simply 'the jeans you could have bought'? What is really the raw vitality being expressed through that guitar'? My favorite (the tennis ball repeatedly bouncing) is somehow meant to show the tennis lessons which are now beyond the persons reach. Are we simply seeing the physical manifestation of what could of been? I think we are really seeing something else, something that truly haunts us all - the Freudian Partial Object.
Irrepressible, indestructible and rather terrifying, Confused.com seem to be trying to convince us that somehow, we can be spared psychological castration (which we all experience at youth) by simply visiting their website. However, remember that the trauma of being reminded about the absence of the objects that you desire is nowhere near as traumatizing as actually receiving them. Confused? I certainly am.
'as yet without title' - MODrn
sonic stuff from MODrn in progress
jeremy l inglis and mike napier instruments, gadgets, objects and devices
Detail of a sculpture covered entirely in old coffee grounds. Disparate objects are brought together and unified by the unusual tactile surface. 2006
My creative practice is concept driven and seeks to discover visually exciting methods to communicate. Identity, individuality and memory with an emphasis on who we are, what makes us different to the next person - is this nature or nurture, or simply a mixture of both? These issues are a central facet to my practice.
Currently I am exploring notions through moving image and video art, intrigued by the physical attributes and expression of children’s games, as well as their deeper social and cultural meanings. Through video I aim to present a unique perspective of selected games, focusing in on particular gestures and actions in order to observe their beauty and conceptualise their communicative qualities. I explore ideas in a non narrative structure to create ethereal works.
Having a background in Fine Art – Printmaking, my underlying thoughts regarding technique originate from a printmaking sensibility. I identify with layering, exposing, concealing, building using layers, not dissimilar to the underlying facets of ones identity. I execute my concepts in a manner that is both materially appropriate and professionally/technically sound. This has included printmaking, drawing, digital print, photography, constructed objects, video and is continually developing.
My creative practice is concept driven and seeks to discover visually exciting methods to communicate. Identity, individuality and memory with an emphasis on who we are, what makes us different to the next person - is this nature or nurture, or simply a mixture of both? These issues are a central facet to my practice.
Currently I am exploring notions through moving image and video art, intrigued by the physical attributes and expression of children’s games, as well as their deeper social and cultural meanings. Through video I aim to present a unique perspective of selected games, focusing in on particular gestures and actions in order to observe their beauty and conceptualise their communicative qualities. I explore ideas in a non narrative structure to create ethereal works.
Having a background in Fine Art – Printmaking, my underlying thoughts regarding technique originate from a printmaking sensibility. I identify with layering, exposing, concealing, building using layers, not dissimilar to the underlying facets of ones identity. I execute my concepts in a manner that is both materially appropriate and professionally/technically sound. This has included printmaking, drawing, digital print, photography, constructed objects, video and is continually developing.
My creative practice is concept driven and seeks to discover visually exciting methods to communicate. Identity, individuality and memory with an emphasis on who we are, what makes us different to the next person - is this nature or nurture, or simply a mixture of both? These issues are a central facet to my practice.
Currently I am exploring notions through moving image and video art, intrigued by the physical attributes and expression of children’s games, as well as their deeper social and cultural meanings. Through video I aim to present a unique perspective of selected games, focusing in on particular gestures and actions in order to observe their beauty and conceptualise their communicative qualities. I explore ideas in a non narrative structure to create ethereal works.
Having a background in Fine Art – Printmaking, my underlying thoughts regarding technique originate from a printmaking sensibility. I identify with layering, exposing, concealing, building using layers, not dissimilar to the underlying facets of ones identity. I execute my concepts in a manner that is both materially appropriate and professionally/technically sound. This has included printmaking, drawing, digital print, photography, constructed objects, video and is continually developing.
My creative practice is concept driven and seeks to discover visually exciting methods to communicate. Identity, individuality and memory with an emphasis on who we are, what makes us different to the next person - is this nature or nurture, or simply a mixture of both? These issues are a central facet to my practice.
My creative practice is concept driven and seeks to discover visually exciting methods to communicate. Identity, individuality and memory with an emphasis on who we are, what makes us different to the next person - is this nature or nurture, or simply a mixture of both? These issues are a central facet to my practice.
My creative practice is concept driven and seeks to discover visually exciting methods to communicate. Identity, individuality and memory with an emphasis on who we are, what makes us different to the next person - is this nature or nurture, or simply a mixture of both? These issues are a central facet to my practice.