Contextual Review 2010-11
The bulk of this year’s work is grounded on notions of physical contact between the viewer and the artwork. Enriching this facet of the viewer’s experience are elements of narrative, texture, and the layering / obscuring of the visual encounter whilst still inviting a personal whimsy to manifest throughout the overall collection. For me, it seems insane that the public may not touch valued works of art, particularly when many are so physically seductive. The utilitarian output of yesteryear’s artisans is ornamental with the clear intent of allowing the human to lie on a chaise longue or rap on an antique oak door. Value and rarity disallow the public from stroking the surface of a sculpture, even though the texture asks us to investigate tactile qualities. Painting has a more complex relationship with touch which I will elaborate on further.
That this body of art works as a collection is important. Glenn Brown referred to a good art show as being like a circus; a menagerie of pieces. I identify with this idea and it is my hope that the final year 3 output is varied and yet individual components all contribute to an overall profundity that makes the viewer’s experience coherent and valid.
Either through obsession or as a natural progression, I feel primarily interested in wall-based display; work that is borne of painting even if the finished piece is sculptural in its totality and uses plastic materials such as clay or plaster. I feel a conflict with representational painting even as I use it. There is an illusionism at the heart of the tradition of western representational painting which jars with my instincts. Simply put, a representational image typically is an accumulation of pigment in thin layers arranged on the surface of a two-dimensional support in such a manner as to create the illusion of the viewer’s own sight. Such paintings are almost invariably mounted onto gallery walls and framed, if not ornately then by implication as the edge of the image meets its own boundary with the wall.
Representational paintings, prints and drawings avoid being assessed as physical objects by dominating our visual experience with their masquerade. They are optical illusions, albeit compelling ones. I stress that this conceptual argument focuses on juxtapositions involving representational rather than abstract work.
Untitled, oil on canvas - each 140 x 140cm
Being psychologically more familiar with paint, paintings and painters, I chose to start with 2D, wall-based imagery. The choice of roses as subject matter is recurrent but incidental. Roses are useful in that they happen to provide form that can be manipulated and exaggerated to promote an impression of depth unabashedly. Obscuring ‘curtains’ of colour hang in and through the petal layers, as do panels of text (I find it acceptable to treat the surface of the painting as a sketchbook when none other is to hand). The periphery of each bloom is treated with loose gauzes of tone whereas the central structure to each flower is rendered precisely and definitely. This serves to concentrate the illusionism and invitation of attention and touch to the centre portion of the image or painterly focal point.
The seductive nature of both images is pleasingly unsentimental. These flowers loom out of their darkness yet almost fill the canvas frame. As such, these are paintings about painting - the illusory qualities and the implied three dimensions are most apparent but through their allusion to illusion they also serve as a springboard to other more sculptural work. The illusionism is compelling but ultimately unsatisfying, particularly with a view to my ambitions for a ‘circus’ of pieces.
Both the square format of these paintings and their pair nature suggest a precision or mathematical quality that is in-keeping with frames and frame structures. The wood of the canvas stretcher can be employed for so much more than a painterly confine and the materials of the workshops hold promises of experimentation. The literal touch denies the paintings’ illusion and the amplified scale of the roses invite the interaction of the viewers hands and arms among the petals.
Gauntlets, wood, silk, leather, steel - dimensions variable
There is a place for the inventive or whimsical idea. For example, surely some form of appliance should be worn when interacting with art? We are not permitted to touch the objects on display. We may choose to interact violently with a piece, especially if it is particularly antagonistic. In any case, security officials may be particularly contrary to the prospect of the viewer’s reaction to the work on display and may have to be dealt with by physical means. In the case of Kapoor’s Ichi’s Light, a cordon of rope now prevents viewers from entering the inner space where they are invited to experience the optical effect of the interior. The Tate staff have unwittingly added rope to the sculpture and changed its very manifestation. To work with this notion of gallery conflict versus interaction I have constructed a pair of wooden gauntlets. They twist in anatomically implausible directions yet are beautifully upholstered for comfort and aesthetic appeal. Using the same wood as the canvas stretcher, these objects are gallery accessories and the viewer is invited to wear them by means of their material seduction. The harder, functional outer shell suggest that these objects have a purpose. They are clearly heavy items and require some strapping in. The leather harnesses by which they are hung on a roughly hewn steel hook augment their intended utility. It is for the viewer to interpret their possible applications. Context is everything in this case. If the gauntlets are hung in a gallery, one is invited to bask in their aestheticism; their look. If they are hung in the studio or outside the studio door, another possible interpretation is to don these appendages and use them either to attack or defend oneself against the artwork within. Perhaps they are the one means by which it is acceptable for the viewer to physically interact with the gallery contents. That the Dadaists handed out axes and hammers to patrons of their first shows is of no small significance here. In the use of heavy, metallic, structural materials there is an undercurrent of machismo, strength or violence that appeals, particularly as it is at such odds with the typical placid ambience of the art gallery. The hard exterior and the silky inner lining - violence and seduction are paired. These textures and surfaces appeal directly to the viewer’s aesthetic responses.
Untitled, resin, iron, steel, wood -160x 80x 43cm
With access to resins and metallic finishes, other larger pieces add to these themes of touch, illusionism and seduction. Again, wall-based, they exhibit the plastic qualities of a thick mucosal material while their surface texture appears to be decaying iron, static and worn. Researching and arriving at the final configuration of two forms has been attained from life drawing with a particular focus on the effects of gravity and compression of flesh. The ‘stretch’ piece is apparently being pulled apart, horizontally engaged between two solid instances of the same flat material surface, it is elongating and drooping under gravity’s influence. The almost vulgar dynamism of this form instigates an immediate recoil in the viewer but the ropes of stretching stuff are of a hand’s circumference. The viewer is invited to share in the narrative of the piece and run their hand along its form.
Untitled, resin, iron, steel, wood - 80x 51x 43cm
The apparently squashed companion piece is the same material compressed vertically with its excess beginning to droop over the solid matter’s edges. In this instance, the viewer’s natural reaction is to run their hand over the bulbous surface. Both these pieces have a rusty surface - a physical characteristic of old, weathered iron or steel. The juxtaposition of the implication of physical strength of form and delicacy of portrayal is age-old within classical sculpture. As these-pieces are wall-based, the rich rust hues have the added setting of a painterly context. That both these plastic forms are somehow at the mercy of rigid, geometric forms is also an allusion to painting - a metaphor for the gooey substance contained within a frame - albeit couched within the language of form and eschewing the two-dimensional surface and illusion. Ironically, a sculptural illusionism is substituting for the painterly one. The structure of such simplistic and playful forms requires lengthy manufacture. Wood, glue, steel, iron, fixtures and resin are combined in such a way as to provide narrative, form, texture and a rewarding visual and physical presence. The presences seem bulky and solid yet their structural truth is as much a lie as a representational painting. These viscous bulks are hollow.
Construction of rigid and organic forms, texture and decay, touch, antagonism,
these are some of the recurrent themes in the above output. The notion of painting as object is relevant to this work but not dominating. That Hodgkin allowed the painted surface to invade the frame from the canvas is an example of working method and presentation that is distantly related. My work has been informed by painting but not beholden to it. The wall-based arena is somewhere where my work shares the language of painting but is free to explore the sculptural format and return again. In the theme of touch and the viewer’s seduction by it, there is an important suggestion of the utilitarian that is explored by more recent work to be discussed presently. While not precisely the required ‘audience interaction’ of Muñoz’s pieces, it is useful to explore use of the physical motifs common to the work and the viewer. For the more sculptural pieces rather than imagery, the use of materials is concurrent with ageing, decay, history or narrative. This connects with the utilitarian qualities; the using and the reminiscent. This suggests the work has closer parentage to Richard Deacon than Anish Kapoor, closer to Howard Hodgkin than Francis Bacon. The lack of totems bring it closer to Donald Judd than Richard Serra. The suggested narrative is more akin to Yves Tanguy than Jean Arp - these are the contrasts within which I hope to couch this work’s intent.
As for the notion of a ‘circus’ of pieces, I simply find the languages of contemporary art too verbose to restrict myself to a narrow arena of one discipline. While retaining the springboard of familiar tools and a rich history-base of traditional materials, I find it appealing to allow a work to emerge across platforms. Wall-based work dominates -or rather, the presence of the wall is an active participant in the functioning of each piece; it is part of the language. This permits sculptural use of the gallery space but avoids the definitions of the plinth or the floor. The ground and the constraint of gravity are as yet explored briefly in this series of work.
Sinking Head, metallic resin 30 x 42 x 49cm
Perhaps the closest piece to comment on that particularity physicality is a traditional bronze bust, displayed on a plinth. However, the plinth is apparently soft and malleable - the head is sinking into and through it. The textures of both plinth and bust are of decaying metals, malachite and rust. The clash of metals and the apparent elasticity of the plinth serve to emphasise the solid mass and sheer weight of the sinking form. The narrative transforms the ‘bust’ into a ‘head’. Compared to a traditional bronze, this portrait is visceral and physical as a result of its presentation rather than its rendering. The piece is displayed approximately fifteen inches lower on its pedestal than a traditional bronze. It is displayed at a height convenient for the arms and hands rather than the eyes.
The basics of these physical manifestations and interactions with wall-based work and their sculptural adjuncts have been addressed. Additionally, issues of touch, tactile sensation and physical interaction have been investigated in these pieces. However, the particulars of a wholly utilitarian manifestation of visual art is negated by the gallery context. These are pieces of ‘fine art’ that are frozen within the gallery context to remain static and untouched. They remain inert from the passage of time even though form may allude to suggested narrative; the influence of gravity and the material journey into corrosion and decay. Slowly and deliberately, this notion of the utilitarian has been introduced to the menagerie through newer work.
Untitled, brush head, steel - 28 x 22 x 10cm
Perhaps the most natural first step in investigating the utilitarian potential of a new work is to consider the functional properties of an existing object. By dissecting and reconfiguring an everyday tool (a brush, for example) it felt agreeable to produce curious objects and allow them to adopt a hybridised, gallery-oriented utility. In this case, the brush head became enclosed and secretive while the opposite side harasses with the inclusion of a steel spike. The brush handle was allowed to find its own new form by the simple mechanism of slicing wedges and re-varnishing the tortuous result. This produced a form that could be quickly formalised on a traditional plinth but the ‘gag’ is hardly subtle - a handle that should never be touched.
While the re-appropriation of a simple brush produced playful results, the use of a found object within the context of my other pieces is a misstep. To sustain the common language of this menagerie and promote the integrity of their materials, I chose to rely solely on the fundamental plastic materials of image-making and sculpture. Simply, the work feels more arresting and more honest if it is formed from purer substances alone. I feel a recoil from the frequent use of found objects within sculpture and installation although I am unable to identify why other than observing an apparent overuse.
Untitled, oil on muslin on panel, wood - each 42 x 36 x 7cm
By eschewing the found object, I arrived at a lateral solution to promote the utilitarian sensation within the work. Again drawing on illusion, three small paintings were executed. Simple, single utilitarian subject matter was chosen - a door handle, a wooden door-knob and the cover of a fuel cap. Each was rendered in an accurate, deadpan manner, designed to suggest physical interaction. The three paintings are presented within identical wooden box frames that are sizeable and present an impression of depth and solidity. The paintings are dominated by the physicality of their own presentation despite a serene, almost hypnotic simplicity to the image content. The juxtaposition of image and its presentation generates a mild idiosyncrasy - a point of connection between the viewer and the piece. The ‘gag’ here is adjacent to that of the brush - a handle that can never be touched. With the bulky frame structure the image exists as object. This use of oil painting and aged wood hue is too overly loaded with traditional connotation to conjure the utilitarian effectively and the pieces remain firmly in the realm of painting.
Pursuing the utilitarian: the box frames are containers for art. This simplistic statement can be extrapolated into exploring the functionality of containers as art. This is historically vast territory.
Untitled, wood, copper - each 18 x 18 x 18cm
In this piece, the three forms present a surface facet, in each case a different configuration of joined wooden grain from the others. Each cube’s individuality is subtle. Their formal qualities are identical, however. Their utility is suggested through their ‘lids’ and their corner fixtures. Despite these features, the possibility of these objects functioning as literal, physical containers is negated both by their unusual, vertical arrangement on a wall as well as the gallery/studio setting. Their polished veneer and decorative copper trimming indicates a personal or historical personality out of place on the stark white wall. The wall context deflects an historical interpretation. Neither Warhol’s Brillo pseudo-readymades or Whiteread’s Turbine Hall stacks are relevant here. It is worth noting that these three wall-based ‘containers’ exhibit the same conscious and unconscious repetition of formats, textures and mathematical ratios apparent in other pieces. We see the square format, the triplets and triptychs, the divisions within forms and the use of natural stains and textures to enhance surface. In particular, the introduction of the pyramidal corner piece serves functionality as well as adding to the peripheral textures of various pieces. These corner pieces (steel and copper) show three facets in relationship with the three-grain finish of the wooden surface and the triplet nature of the containers. A mathematical resonance lends itself to the precision of these and other works. Choosing to work in pairs or triplets is convenient studio and workshop discipline. Two structures / processes / techniques can be executed as easily as one and have the advantage of allowing room for practise through repetition. This proves particularly useful when experimenting with chemical processes involving rust, staining, patina and general manufacture. Convenience aside, this mathematical resonance through repetition is far from incidental. The pair or triplet format is a recurring motif in this body of work.
Merely alluding to the functional in the pursuit of the utilitarian only gets so far. The viewer may be confronted or invited. They may be tempted to touch - to explore the form or image’s physicality. The implausibility of the artwork’s nod to the functional may create an uneasy disconnect within the viewer’s response that generates whatever strange alchemy there is in the air between a successful artwork and the human exposed to it. Miroslaw Balka is a particularly skilled practitioner in this realm. His smaller pieces often suggest appropriation and subtle transformation of objects and materials from within his environs that layer interpretations effortlessly. This approach to making work is artistically valid but potentially easily exhausted. One may place a found object in a gallery but it is not the function of that object that informs the viewer, rather it is the host of connotations with which it is loaded. These may be historical or personal but they ultimately confine the viewer’s response within its own terms. I increasingly prefer to pursue work that addresses the physical presence of the form or image, a presence that prompts an intuitive tactile response in the viewer. If the work in question succeeds, this response is fundamental, universal and unsentimental. To prompt the viewer’s intuition with the use of utilitarian lures borrows from the language of the found object but, if used sensitively, should not be dominated by it. Approaching the end of the academic year, the natural progression of studio pieces leads to a coalescing of working practises and the consolidation of themes and intent. Perhaps the most successful of these are a twin piece that combine elements of all the year’s output.
Untitled, wood, polythene, plumbing fixtures, humidifier 220 x 180 x 50cm
Two deep box frames each contain an image that is incidental. A simple line drawing of a rose of the same scale and square format echoes the large paintings completed previously. In this case the image is veiled not with glazes of colour but with polythene - a literal obscuring of the image. The images and structure of the frame are treated with the same iron used in the resin work. The image and frame presence are unified both through their texture, colouring and the obscuring curtain of plastic. The structures are quite simply wrapped. Thus the image becomes form as well as viewed surface. Moisture is introduced into the wrapped structures by means of household plumbing and a sonic humidifier. The fog fills inside the frame cavity and condenses into perpetually running water on the inside of the plastic surface. Over days and weeks, the iron coating oxidises in the water-rich environment to transform the iron black into hues of red, brown and yellow. The rose line-drawing (rendered with acrylic varnish) remains dark against the decaying metal. A final addition is the introduction of the familiar corner-pieces of steel. Fastened over the plastic surface, they unify the structures as equipment - machines for making images - as well as holding together the swelling, soaked timbers.
Detail
There is an accumulation of functions and definitions that contribute to an analysis of this piece. These box frames are drawings, paintings and sculptures simultaneously. The introduction of plastic, plumbing, humidifier and steel draw the two panels into one form, one machine. The perpetually dripping surface provides a visual image that constantly changes over two time scales. One is the plane of running water, reminiscent of a domestic window in rain or a car windscreen. The other is the slow chemical oxidation and blossoming of colourful decay. Although one can postulate of a stage where the drawing / painting can be removed and displayed without its obscuring watery layer, this is to detract from the complex dynamic qualities that encompass the entire piece. The surface is the image no matter how it seduces the viewer into peering beyond and into the structure of the frames, speculating on the inner status of the rusting panel - convenient bi-products of this otherwise closed system. These panels are eventually reminiscent of Ernst’s grattage images but are peripheral to the complete piece. To return to Balka, there is a distant association with his large-scale Turbine Hall installation. In both cases we see a pragmatic, architectural, manufactured structure with a single facet of interaction. My frame pieces obscure the potential for ’subject matter’ with a dripping cataract whereas Balka’s piece obscures with a curtain of darkness. Balka’s cavernous entity also is functional in essence and discards sentimentality utterly.
This perhaps is the necessity underpinning this year’s output. It seems difficult to accept personally that much of the artistic intent on display here is borne of avoidance of the intent of others or a dissatisfaction with contemporary work. The gallery space is loaded with so many cultural connotations and expectations that it too often becomes the venue of choice for societal proselytising. A common insistence of artistic language and public appeal seems to frequently require a cause, issue or debate which all too often boils down to the communication of a message. It panders to the stereotypical view of contemporary art that the hackneyed question must always be applicable: “Yes, but what does it mean?” Of course, catering to the utterly obscure or ephemeral subject matter of the artist’s private experience may produce artwork that successfully resonates with some viewer’s own experiences but runs the risk of alienating others. Common appeal is rare in the western art world. The mechanism of sheer physical scale is only available to the select few but does aid some artist’s communication in this regard. Gormley’s figures cannot help but exhibit such universal appeal that their proliferation in the United Kingdom almost goes unchecked - so much so that he appears to have become the natural successor to Henry Moore as the undisputed vanguard of popular British figurative sculpture. Kapoor’s simplistic and playful forms may offer a supposed spiritual profundity but it is the playground of uninterrupted curves, reflective surfaces and bright colours that have so successfully transfixed by appealing to the innate childlike responses within gallery patrons.
Making successive work requires simultaneous analysis. As this process continues it is peculiar to experience my own personal enjoyment while reconciling it with a lack of harmony. I have problems with art. My own discord with contemporary western art is prompting a set of rectifying responses from my own ego. My discomfort within gallery spaces is generating objects that, if not actually antagonistic, deny sentimentality so as to tangentially reciprocate against the unsatisfying output of others. My contempt for the preached message drives me to produce work that is silent other than at its most base appeal to human experience. By reaching for this complex notion of the utilitarian it is possible to create work that flourishes within a universal language of intuitive responses.
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References:
Quinn. E. (1997) Max Ernst, Köln, Könemann
Morris. F (2006) Tate Modern - The Handbook, London, Tate Publishing
Wagstaff. S. (2008) Juan Muñoz - A Retrospective, London, Tate Publishing
De Loisy. J. (2009) Anish Kapoor. London, Thames & Hudson
Stanley. M. (2010) Howard Hodgkin, Time And Place, London, Modern Art Oxford
