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7 November 2024
Maren Karlson, Staub (Störung), Soft Opening
Staub (Störung) was conceivably the most accomplished painting I’ve seen in 2024. The only challenger that springs to mind was Doron Langberg’s Night at Victoria Miro, but the painter’s style and subject matter is so vastly different; comparisons are gratuitous. I’ve wanted to write a review ever since I first visited (I went back two more times) but haven’t felt like I’ve had the time to sit and do the work justice. I’m still time poor but couldn’t wait any longer, so here are some musings.
When Francis Fukuyama posited the End of history he claimed the final round of ideological clashes had ceased – namely, neoliberal markets, western democracy and the free market had won, the plague of Marxism had finally been defeated – our socio-cultural and political evolution had reached its final form. The rhetoric within political circles was one of unprecedented optimism. Intellectuals sought to grasp the gravity of the situation.
Fast forward 30 years and we’ve seen the free market crash (several times), the integrity of democracy questioned (perhaps breached) and the rich-poor divide grow at an epistemic rate, rendering social mobility a mere myth. Without unpacking all the ramifications of globalisation, I think it’s feasible to posit that post-fordist economics have ultimately decimated industry across all of western Europe. This has left vast industrial wastelands that occupy cities up and down the UK and beyond. Kalson’s series at Soft Opening not only addresses the visual narrative which is a by-product of this economic shift but also aptly shines a torch on the political climate that these socio-economic changes have advanced. Fittingly, the venue for this show was also a former industrial unit.
In the main space were a series of paintings in various dimensions; some merely lent against the walls resting on pieces of metal, others hung traditionally, and then a few occupied the industrial beams that occupy the centre of the gallery floor plan. I could’ve lived with any of the works so its difficult to pick out standalone pieces. The sense of motion that Karlson is able to capture is particularly attractive. The generous selection of brush strokes aid this awareness, but the palette also feels worthy of citing (hooray, a painter not using paint straight out the tube!). The thicker strokes often feature an almost translucent, reflective tone that captures the light penetration onto metal persuasively. Elsewhere the flecks of stray paint that have been left atop the canvas feel necessary and not design-y. They give the paintings a laborious sensation, the artist moving in tandem with the machinery they are mirroring. When I was initially in the main space on my first visit I noted that I could literally smell the industry that Karlson was visualising such was the conviction of these works. It’s a sensory experience I’ve never encountered before and one I’ve continued to reflect on.
In the viewing room were a series of framed drawings that sat on top of photographs. I’m always sceptical of works in viewing rooms. They often feature tacky miniature scale, or vague representations of that which is found in the main gallery space. However, there was none of that here. The works in the viewing room not only accelerated the reading of the paintings, but in some instances, I believe they were even more successful.
The obvious choice of metal frames aided the continuation of the post-industrial aesthetic, but the drawings themselves – heavily worked in graphite – had a razor-like sharpness that counteracted the lucid painting style Karlson accomplished. The use of photography was acknowledged in the press release, but it felt appropriate that there was a photographic element visually present in the show. Afterall its photographys capability of capturing internalised moments of history that allow us a glimpse into the past.
In the Ruhr region of Germany an old steelworks has been converted into an open-air park called Duisburg-Nord. In the evenings the old chimneys light up casting shadows across the industrial landscape, by day you are free to wonder the complete site, a stark reminder of our not-so-distant past. Karlson’s series similarly draw attention to a bygone era; haunting us like the spectres of Marx that Fukuyama declared dead, that which neo-liberalism is so keen to whitewash. This was an extremely important exhibition and I’m grateful I got to visit it multiple times.
16 October 2024
Minor Attractions Art Fair, Ben Edmunds x Tatjana Pieters & Jack Jubb x Residence Gallery
The idea of hosting an art fair in a hotel doesn’t appeal to me at all. Usually both claustrophobic and overwhelming, showing artworks in tiny hotel rooms felt like an uninviting way to consume art. I’ve seen Minor Attractions get a lot of positive press. Whilst I could appreciate the effort that went into organising the fair, I don’t think its a format that bodes well for future years.
When I visit on Thursday online the RSVP claimed the fair had sold out and that there was a waiting list. However, there was scarcely more than a handful of people wondering around (confused) trying to differentiate between hotel artworks and that of the galleries when I arrived. I heard from friends the opening night was the complete opposite and seeing anything was impossible due to the crazy overcrowding.
As I trudged up flights of stairs hunting for the galleries that I wanted to visit, the sound of liquid drum n bass (literally the worst genre of music ever) bounced through the stair case. I didn’t do the entire fair because I couldn’t stand it any longer. However, I did get to see a couple of galleries that had been on my list. First on my list was Tatjana Pieters who I managed to miss when I visited Ghent earlier this year They were showing Ben Edmunds who has been on my radar for a while.
Working within the field of the post-medium condition I think Edmund’s work is an excellent example of an artist taking from current popular culture (outdoor, camping, sports aesthetic etc) and repurposing a familiar visual into art but in a way that doesn’t rely on pictorial depiction. There is a semiotic reading to be had of Edmund’s work, but this isn’t an ideology being merely aestheticised for commercial gain. Without the frames and the hardware these works fall face down flat. But the framing permits Edmunds to paint (or dye) their canvases in block colours. The works often have a gradient finish, or colour swatch areas that create a temporal sense of flatness and have a graphic design flare.
The gaze is then of course directed elsewhere and its within the frames and hanging mechanisms that Edmund’s work really draws you in. As an art technician I am always interested in artists that find alternative ways to hang paintings. Ostorowski did it with Spruth Margers show a couple years ago, suspending works from the ceiling in the middle of the gallery. His large paintings literally and figuratively invaded your personal space. Edmund’s riffs on this idea but places his works closer to the wall and creates pulley mechanisms that are present in the world of sailing.
At Minor Attractions sadly the works are hung traditionally, but the carbon fibre frames are still worth engaging with. The materiality of the frames feels elusive. There’s a decadence that juxtaposes with the colour fields that renders an informative read. These are extremely considered works. After visiting Frieze and seeing a lot of figurative or abstract work that looked rushed and unfinished which, by the way isn’t an aesthetic (not naming names) these works offer a slow sensibility despite the lack of expression with paint. This is as refreshing as it is conceptually poised.
Elsewhere I enjoyed seeing the works of Jack Jubb showing with Residency Gallery. I’m familiar with Jubb’s work but these water colours represent a new medium for the artist. Its a direction thats entirely worth pursuing - the frames make these feel slick - but the colour palette is what really sets these works off. The pinkish hues against the teal green tones aid the surrealist dream-like imagery to create a smokey haze that makes the soft brush strokes feel both meditative and ruminative.
08 October 2024
Daniele Milvio, Far Cry, Illenia
Showing bronze rafts on polystyrene plinths is subtly smart. I admire the wit of both gallerist and artist in this moment. The dense bronze sinks to the bottom whilst the weightless polystyrene bobs up and down with the ocean. The smoothness of the rounded plinths also counteracts well with the detailed, and sometimes pointed sharp elements Milvio has cast.
Its also worth noting (I think, anyway) that I had’t encountered Daniele Milvio’s work before, who happens to have a very varied practise. However, the skilful casts and delicate execution here would have you believe that the artist primarily and solely works with bronze.
The objects included in the show aren’t limited to rafts; a particular favourite is a cast picture frame enclosed within a room, that for the show includes a photograph of Mike Skinner. The tea light holder - a bucket suspended from the branch of a tree - also offers a more poetic slant to the work. Whether intentional or not the feeling of seeking out balance, either material (absolute) or immaterial (metaphorical) was the overriding sublime element of the show.
Olu Ogunnaike, Is the soil right?, Rose Easton
Ok, so I am really enjoying the renaissance silkscreens are having at the moment. I’m also really keen to observe artists that are pushing this medium beyond its pop art or DIY-aesthetic boundaries. At present, I feel both these genres of art have had all but any meaning stripped, becoming a simulacrum of art histories past. Any political deposotif is now merely a form of allowed protest. The medium has had to become smarter.
Olu Ogunnaike you could argue, is at the forefront of this confrontation. This series is a real treat. Not only are these works beautiful, they also have a wider conceptual read. The images that form the backdrop of the works are mundane, run-of-the-mill iPhone stock photography shots. Theres nothing particularly compelling about these - however, this is exactly the point. The images all feel familiar; a pub with friends, a tree on the side of the road, the escalator toward the tube etc etc.
But the familiarity of these scenes is cast into doubt by the application of charcoal. Robert Longo, (who also happens to have a show opening in London at Roupac this month) credits charcoal with bearing a weight. He claims it encourages a different reading of the contemporary image and therefore is inherently political. He uses the medium to painstakingly recreate images, often also working from photographs.
Olu Ogunnaike achieves a similar level of contrast with their silkscreened charcoal works that also sit on a reflective surface. The mirrored steel further adds to the sense of contrast. When I see the works the gallery is busy, but its easy to get lost in the imagery and the sharp juxtaposition between the deathly charcoal and the lightness of the metal. Theres also an engaging tension between the small particles that form the charcoal imagery that sits on top of the dense metal.
The shots of trees I find to be the most successful in the show. The visual poetry of depicting a tree in charcoal is particularly charming. The placement in-between the windows in the gallery space is a sly curatorial touch from Rose which also aids with the visual narrative.
Not only are these intensely beautiful, but also incredibly inventive. The outline of a frame and pile of charcoal dust at the foot of the stairs felt like a metaphorical race to the bottom. These works are a slow, slow read. Transcending the mechanical feel of Pop art and the abrasiveness of DIY aesthetics; Ogunnaike has made the mundane mean something again. After all, isn’t slowness the ultimate antithesis of our zeitgeist?
Machine Painting, Tauba Auerbach, Matthias Groebel, Peter Halley, Jacqueline Humphries, Albert Oehlen, Seth Price, Sigmar Polke, Avery Singer, Reena Spaulings, Wolfgang Tillmans, Christopher Kulendran Thomas, Rosemarie Trockel, Jack Whitten and Christopher Wool. Modern Art
Every so often one of the Goliath blue chip galleries decides to flex their curatorial muscle and curate a show that is unmissable. Following the sultry collection that Eva Rothchild showed last at the Old St branch of Modern Art, this show littered with talent is a welcome relief.
Theres plenty of familiar names included here such as, Wolfgang Tillmans, Albert Oehlen and Jack Whitten who all have delightful contributions. Tillman’s unframed candle light inkjet print is my standout. Somehow he continuously bridges the gap between conceptual art and engaging photography, highlighted here by his materiality and printing choice; the humble inkjet.
New for me was Reina Spauling’s work - a monumental painting that almost covers an entire wall. Made with a robot hoover and the boujee house paint (farrow & ball) the robot paints until it deems the canvas clean leaving behind a stuttered automated attempt at a Pollock, or in other words a robotic painterly mess.
The value of this show is not only the painterly exploration of expansion within the medium, but also the intersection between painting and machines (and the development), but also that automation is still probing and asking the same questions. Painting has moved on, we however, have not.
At least for me, this separates this curatorial effort from art-storage-facility-clearance-sale to feeling somewhat worthwhile…with the impending automation of jobs, questions of UBI, the dilapidation of the attention span, etc etc.
30 September 2024
Hongxi Li, Heaven Green, Neven Gallery
Sadly, I missed Hongxi Li’s offsite performance which looked beguiling. This review will consequently only encompass the gallery-based segment of Heaven Green that I still reason is worthy of cogitation.
Most people in London are acutely aware of the ongoing housing crisis. At the centre of this predicament is the lack of new stock. Countless governments have taken aim, attempted tackle and rescinded; the issue is insistent and no feasible resolution has revealed itself.
China too is facing a housing crisis but of a different nature. Building foundations are laid but construction is often left unfinished. This crisis became the lynchpin of Hongxi Li’s research; a gordian knot that occupies both local and global politics, as well as the tension between state control and free market, the dwindling middle class and eager investor.
For Heaven Green Li has convincingly turned the gallery into a showroom (though not the type you see in the west-end selling Picasso editions in grossly oversized frames) but rather for fictional real estate. Constructed out of handcast concrete, 5 model tower blocks that sit firmly within the zeitgeist of post-modern architecture encompass the front section of the gallery. In the rear a series of rendered prints on aluminium are appropriately suspended on corporate style hanging mechanisms.
The sleekness of the prints aid the persuasion, the imagery sits in between the liminal space of the all-to-familiar whilst clearly retaining the artist’s touch. I find these photographic prints considered and also darkly humorous. The images consume the neoliberal unquestioning ideals of the nucleus family and throw up the simulacrum of the hyper-real. Imitation is after all, ominous. Li’s images - like many of the buildings Chinese construction firms fail to complete - remain fictitious.
The model estate also serves to reinforce the sales showroom environment. A tactic which is used in China, and I’m sure has been utilised here in London. But it’s the added details that really make Li’s work avoid the gimmicky tropes that could devalue the socio-political impetus they inhabit. From the title, a combination of the geographical location and gallery name, to the print fixtures; the nuances here hit with absolute conviction.
Lastly, for fans of Heaven Green I recommend Aleksandra Polisiewicz’s Wartopia 1 series. Although their work engages more specifically with temporality and hauntology, the similarities (urban design, capital, the politics of housing, etc) feel worth mentioning.
27 September 2024
Halsey Hathaway, Night Visit, Xxijra Hii
I must confess, when I saw the documentation of this show online, I was fairly underwhelmed. My instant reaction was graphic-colour-block-abstraction meets unispired interior design brief. But Hathaway’s show totally reiterates the importance of seeing work in person.
When I first moved to London, I lived on a main road that served as a route in and out of Lewisham hospital. For months I became an insomniac. Even when I wasn’t woken by the sound of the siren, the flash of the neon dappled light through my cheap rental curtains pierced the beige walls. This invasion of light that kept me restless became the trigger for Hathaway’s show at Xxijra Hii, Night Visit.
I imagine Hathaway working in their studio akin with someone like Raoul De Keyser; the marks are considered, temperate and always appropriate. Similarly, to De Keyser’s oeuvre, this series also has the allure of looking seductively simplistic. However, making this body of work feel painterly takes a level of editing, restraint and contemplation that requires years of practise.
Another painterly component of this work that hits you when in the gallery is the sense of depth Hathaway manages to conjure. Perhaps owed in part to the kaleidoscopic shapes, the colours sit impeccably - finished crisply which my OCD brain appreciates. The curved lines are flush, edges are tight, and the raised areas are defined. Night Visit is a rather welcome reminder that viewing works on IG is not the way you should be consuming your art.
Lake Space, Ed Sykes & Delilah Sykes, Unearthing
Overall, I thought this was a well-conceived exhibition that works as an artistic/curatorial research project in tandem with the gallery.
Unlike Guy Debord and his Situationist’s comrades who chose the streets of Paris for their dérive, Ed Sykes and his daughter Delilah chose the eroding British coast line. The show features an installation, sound piece and photography.
The photographic prints included in the Rock series are seductive. They each offer different tones, warmth and depth of field. The process of exposing with natural materials is not only accentuated, but also made to mean. The photographs are mounted in a hierarchy that depicts the image foreground and backdrop appearing, disappearing and re-emerging. This feels like an apt blend of research/time-based/artistic practise.
I recently saw another artist, Nate Faulkner, deconstruct their darkroom process at Brunette Coleman Gallery. In my review I critiqued the materiality, claiming it was unnecessary and added no intrinsic value. Here, Sykes also opts to conceptualise their darkroom procedure but via a different gaze.
Composed inside an installation that is supposed to mimic a pillbox – which unfortunately, due to the basic construction is unconvincing and perhaps the biggest shortfall of the show. However, the contents which are visible via a window that allows a peak into the chemistry that produces the series that sit opposite is not only welcomed, but I believe integral given the Rock Series that hangs opposite this structure.
Lastly, kudos to Lake Space for perfecting the acoustics in the gallery. Delilah’s field recording is a Bandcamp must have. Alongside her father’s photography, the recordings encouraged engagement and reflection – consequently, I definitely interacted with the work for a greater amount of time.
Lastly, I think the curatorial element of the show is the defining factor. Helping to elevate Syke’s work: creating a cohesion throughout the exhibition, Lake Space is well worth a visit.
NovoStruct Hard Hat Area, Tarzan Kingofthejungle, Paola Siri Renard, Eleni Papazoglou, Plicnik Space Initiative
Generally, I recoil when I see the words ‘digital’ and ‘art’ used in the same sentence. But this is the most convincing adaptation of a digital programme I’ve seen to date. Log 1 was a dedicated curatorial pursuit. However, it did have snags - mainly that it felt reminiscent of an undergrad degree show. Log 2 pushes the curatorial further. Curating here becomes an art practise in and of itself.
You’d be forgiven for thinking the gallery was closed for renovations if you were unfamiliar with the space. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if passers-by thought this was a construction site altogether which is credit to the dedication of the curatorial team.
Plenty of artists have staged their studios within the gallery space as an exhibition, take for example, Michael Krebber showing at Greene Naftali. Though I can’t think of many galleries that have showed work under the conditions PSI have created. Its genuinely hard to find the artworks in the show such is the detailed level of curatorial activity. As PSI state, they aim to create an experimental environment which they achieve comfortably.
All three artists in the show work at interesting material intersections that juxtapose well with each other. Paolo Siri Renard’s piece sits in the centre of the space and functions as the metaphorical vertebrae. It looks like a piece of deconstructed architecture maintaining a presence of density and fragility simultaneously.
Whilst Tarzan Kingofthejungle’s Macguffin pieces forebode the classical workmen tool; a lantern, with the familiar site of an Evian water bottle. Both are suspended (un)touchable in fake ice, frozen stiff and rendered useless. They add an eerie introspective feel to the space. Lastly, Eleni Papazoglou works somewhere between the intersection of art and graphic design. Their piece, I surprisingly really enjoy. Papazoglou recreates a stencilling kit incorporated inside a designed and “branded” package which is made with consumer capitalist conviction.
The addition of the radio broadcast in the gallery (also available online) is a lovely touch and rounds off a standout curatorial show. I’ll definitely be back for Log 3.
Fan Bangyu, Lulua Alyahya, Madeleine Bender , Ruba Nadar, After Shock, Studio Chapple
Louis of Studio Chapple often goes all out curatorially to create an experience within their space. I often compare Studio Chapple with Café oto (not only because they often feature sound art) but because whilst the work might not always be to your taste, its at the very least interesting.
Today this show feels a little tame, even perhaps a little flimsy curatorially speaking. I think all the artists individually create interesting work, I’m just not completely sold on how the pieces interact with eachother in the space. Its also worth noting the gallery has been busy with fairs (past and forthcoming).
When I was a kid, I used to sponsor a duck every year for my birthday. My uncle also used to have a fake cat that would sit on his sofa like Kant’s unmoveable mover, with fur so convincing I would always check to see if it was real. Perhaps this nostalgia brought me toward Madeleine Bender’s piece initially. Smartly titled Nestling, the piece is an extremely convincing cast duck complete with collected feathers.
Elsewhere I also enjoy Ruba Nadar’s compositional series. The silk print sandwiched between collaged and oil painted pieces felt aesthetically pleasing and showcased a diverse visual skillset. I’ve also been keen to see some of Lulua Alyahaya’s work for a while now – and I’d like to see more. Pearl is a particularly interesting piece that showcases what I believe is the artist’s signature style, placed somewhere between post-modern and surrealist painting. Fan Bangyu’s work is clearly conceptual, though the concept is lost on me this time.
Whilst I wasn’t entirely sold by After Shock I’d be interested to see what the group of artists produce moving forward.
23 September 2024
Jesse Darling, On our Knees, Arcadia Missa
Off the back of his turner prize win and the announcement of a swanky new job at the Ruskin School of art you’d be forgiven for thinking this show had smug sense of arrogance to it. But perhaps that’s just how I’ve come to read Darling’s work which I’ve never felt so assured of, and by the looks of it, neither has he.
This series showcases his effortless ability to create works that feel familiar yet distant. Using the mundane and every day object to create the surreal and unimaginable. I think Darling’s works are distinctly post-modern. They work right on the axis of post-modernism, revelling in the binaries of our very existence.
Theres no standout showstopper here for me - but everything feels considered and confident. Darling is an artist working at the juncture of our epoch and this series highlights his seamingly laissez-faire attitude toward art contemporary production which is as freshing as it is relevant.
Liorah Tchiprout, I love the flames but not the embers, Pippy Houldsworth
Really love the title of this show, poetic. The paintings however are less conclusive. Liorah Tchiprout has got a reasonable amount of attention for their cottage-core come wholesome whimsical painting style that has a naturalistic colour palette that depict dolls which are modelled in various positions.
I suppose what was most disappointing here was the painterly feel of the works. Perhaps this isn’t the artist’s fault, I just expected more. Friends raved about thier show at Marlborough Gallery. But these look really quick and not at all laboured. This isn’t necessarily a criticism per-se, I just don’t think it aids the ambiance of the work, nor do I feel its part of the schema given the conceptual framework is, well, dolls.
Aside from the dolls, the backdrops are just super-wishy-washy swathes of forest-y type colours that kind of feel like an aesthetic visualised through painting. The press release notes that Tchiprout is primarily a print maker and I think this resolves a lot of my criticism. This series feels like a painter at the start of their journey, still trying to find their visual language but lingering in the precipice of market success.
19 September 2024
Evas Rothchild, Modern Art
Accumulation is a pillar of modern society. It advances our free market, gives us a reason to go do that job we hate, its a driving force which signifies motion. Accumulation is at the heart of a lot of what we do. Its also the vertebrae for Eva Rothschild’s sculptures, currently on show at Modern Art.
This exhibition features a well rounded array of sculptures that provide a concise overview of Rothchild’s successful career. The “catch all” feel does however leave the show lacking curatorially. You get the impression Eva has been there, done that and bought the t-shirt.
The exhibition is split into three sections. The first room has soft pastel coloured works and some dreadful prints. My first thought was ‘Oliver Bonas window display’. Plenty of painters feel the need to make awful sculptures, almost like they can’t resist filling a floor plan. These prints are equally as pointless, and just as bad.
The second room features a stacked sculpture which lots of artists seem to be dining out on at the moment. I’m thinking Annie Morris, to name but one. These works sit somewhere between interior design (with a capital D) and art.
Plateau is by far the most successful piece in the show. Suspended from the ceiling, with the window slightly ajar, it feels weightless and provides an apt juxtaposition with Rothchild’s accumulated sculpture practise.
Jacob Dahlgren, When Anxieties Become Form, Workplace Gallery
My semiotic relationship with tinned cans of food is currently economic exclusion. I’m thinking about those clad metal bins that seem to have sprung up in the post-checkout zone of any substantial supermarket.
“Dried goods, cans” etc have become a staple of our declining neoliberal capitalist economy that is now working for fewer and fewer of the population (who’d have guessed!) The state now relies more heavily than ever on food banks, who in turn rely on the donation of canned foods.
These same cans become the stimulus, or the visual apparatus which compromise Jacob Dahlgren’s current solo show at Workplace Gallery.
A large sculpture, made entirely of cans is aptly titled From Art to Life to Art. The sculpture consumes the first floor of the gallery space. The cans, digested by the artist, are visible from outside the gallery on street level. Inside and up close the mish-mash of branding reads like a schizophrenic billboard.
The sculpture is imposing but not cumbersome - you must navigate through it to reach the rest of the show, but you can also engage from a distance.
Whilst I think this work is largely successful I feel it is only provisionally political. Simply, the artist/gallery could’ve used the contents of the cans more effectively. For example, the food could simply have been donated post-exhibition. The removal of the contents from the cans adds little (I think rather subtracts) from the weight of the installation. Specifically, the mirage of the sculptures angled turns fall a little flat here.
Or for fans of the Nicolas Bourriaud and relational aesthetic: the relationship between food and eating could have been pushed further. The contents might’ve been prepared into a meal bringing a community that often feels - dare I say it, exclusive, - into contact with those outside the traditional “art world” creating an arena for exchange. After all isn't artistic praxis all about social experiments?
Aside from the works upstairs, in the lower level gallery Dahlgren has made a series of ‘paintings’ (their language). These push&pull the post-medium condition narrative that is currently swirling around the London art scene. It kinda feels like everyone is making ‘paintings’ that aren’t “paintings”. - The expanded field! But I do enjoy these and they are definitely worthy of Krauss’s definition.
Materially speaking they are readable but not obvious. David Ostrowski showed several paintings of clothing hangers at Ramiken last year which I thought had a charming wit. These are arguably better. I like the intervention of the theme Dahlgren successfully re-aestheticises with these as well.
I also enjoy the names, Dallas, Blackpool etc. The stacking up of the hangers abstains the productivity of the object, removing the ontology and thus the capability to realise surplus value or vis-a-vis, what Deleuze and Guattari would call Anti-productionism. Bravo!
18 September 2024
Coumba Samba, Red Gas, Arcadia Missa
I think context is the encapsulating motif of this show. These works don’t have the art historical wit of say, a Gavin Turk, nor the phenomenological parameters of a Mona Hatoum, rather they perform as a socio-political canon. Provoking questions whilst also subtly shinning a microscope over current world events, this series toys with both the geo, bio and spatial politic.
Staged in the (new?) second floor space at Arcadia Missa, Sambas’ series of radiators feel right at home. Theres something quite sterile about the space which was clearly an office recently. A long conference style table wouldn’t look out of place against the corporate blue carpet that covers the entire floor. It sustains the ambience of an environment in which deals were probably made, perhaps also, commodities bought and sold. This search for value extraction is the lynchpin sought by Samba.
Gas is amongst the most controversial natural possessions traded on the planet, a fossil fuel. Staggeringly, as a nation we import around 50% of our gas. Since the invasion of Ukraine by Putin, the UK (along with many other countries) has ceased buying its supply from Russia. This has altered the state of the market playing field dramatically.
Sambas’ series thus eloquently nods toward the gravity of the political climate. The reframing of something every household will be familiar with - the radiator, a vessel which is activated by gas - becomes a loaded artefact, dispossessing one use value for another.
Showing a series of readymades for your first solo show at a new gallery outside the zeitgeist of the early 20th century feels like a bold, brazen move. On this occasion it pays off - Samba is definitely an artist worth watching in the future.
16 September 2024
Ella Walker, The Romance of the Rose, Pilar Corrias
I’d already seen several distinctly bad shows in the West end before I stumbled across Ella Walker’s solo at the Savile Row branch of Pilar Corrias. I honestly thought they’d closed this space after opening the much vaster, grand space on Conduit Street.
These works wouldn’t have felt out of place in the newer, glossy statement gallery; however, the ornate historical feel of the Savile Row space (vestibule, checkered tile floor, traditional store front etc) certainly aided the works timeless charm.
Whilst the imagery isn’t particularly akin with my taste per-se, after seeing countless variations of zombie formalism and crapstraction – like puppies wagging their tails at titan collectors, Walkers’ work was a much-welcomed relief.
From a purely painterly perspective these works are extremely hard to fault. The fresco style washes that feature throughout, made presumably with some form of ground marble, resolve a distempered plaster nod. This gives the works a markedly European feel.
The backdrop washes act like an extension of the architecture that they invoke; rather than merely inducing a notion of flatness on top of the canvas. Whilst the pencil marks that juxtapose the surface add an ornate sense of depth, something which many contemporary painters struggle to achieve. The figurative elements here are ahistorical moving across temporal plains; seductive, suggestive and satirical.
Walker is very much a painters painter. Whilst their style isn’t necessarily something I’d normally go for, the execution here makes this a particularly striking show. Nothing here feels heavy handed, rather only appropriate and altogether worthwhile.
7 Setember 2024
Mothers, Laura Langer, Ilenia
I had to really sit with this show for a while before even attempting a review. Amidst a sea of aesthetic predictability, or what Baudrillard would term the trans-aesthetic – Laura Langers’ work stands out against other contemporary painting which has so often become transparent, hollow and banal. So accustomed have I become to these shows, when I see a conceptual painter that isn’t trying to promote nullity as a value in and of itself, I am immediately captured.
Discharge Painting 2 initially makes me think of my first encounter with Andreas Breunigs’ work, (a positive experience) sometime around 2020. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen an artist use the debris of a painting practise to form an artwork: but it feels succinctly more appropriate here amongst the other works included in this show. In a world addicted to complete excess, its worth taking note of an artist utilising the by-product or waste-material, the “after-thought”, which just so happens here to create a rather satisfying painting.
By process of elimination you can only assume that the marks which made this work came from the dirtied brush used to create, A Violent World, the other large work included in the show. This piece, adeptly titled, features two chickens compounded behind a wire fence. Elsewhere, the concentric leitmotif of circles against different coloured backdrops take up one entire wall of the gallery. There are 8 in total in this show, with some hung side-by-side.
The circular motif is desperately loaded. With each internal circle starting from the exact same spot and then delineating as they climax. All 8 works share the same dimensions further heightening the changes in depth, width and placement. The use of acrylic paint and marker pen for these works feels like an intentional economical material choice and is particularly poignant when considered in relation with the discharge painting that hangs parallel.
Lastly, Langer wrote her own press release for the show - a fitting poetic accompaniment - ‘Fortresses. Contained. One circle inside the other growing bigger. Big brother, small sister, baby girl, single cell. One inside the other, they share the same core’.
Intension (the concept ‘dog’ encapsulates its ‘dogness’), Larry Achiampong, Becky Beasley, Lucas Dupuy, Elsa James, Sophie Jung, Kristian Kragelund, Ty Locke, Narges Mohammadi, Paula Morison, David Rickard, Rebeca Romero, Alberta Whittle, Gabby R and El Bass of Project Art Works, Copperfield Gallery
I said I wasn’t going to review anymore summer shows so this won’t be a completed article. However, I wish I’d found this show earlier and not wasted my time elsewhere. The curatorial concept (for a summer group show) is comparatively strong.
Particular highlights in this show include Lucas Dupuys’ pair of painting’s, ‘South Circular’ and ‘Into’. These remind me of the visualiser tab people would use on iTunes at parties when I was growing up. The swirl of neon light would cascade like an uncatchable smoke, transient. I am perhaps making this connection because Dupuys’ work’s feel somehow activated by music.
Elsewhere, Kristian Kragelunds’ Untilted_orchid_1 caught my attention due to the mirrored facade. I later found out this was created using a material intended for AI facial recognition. The delicately engraved orchid laser-cut into the surface, provided a well-situated contradiction.
Congratulations on your 10th year, Copperfield, I’ll be back to review a show properly soon!
3 September 2024
Rapid Eye Movements, Iwan Lewis, Molly Martin,Polina Pak and Morgan Wills, Sid Motion Gallery
Thankfully summer group shows are almost all now closed. With a vacuous curatorial concept to say the least “imagined narratives and dreams” - it’s tricky to grasp anything from this obtuse configuration of painters, exercising various roles across a wide-ranging theme.
Polina Paks’ Harvest is subtly witty depicting two very different types of peas, both in their ‘pod’s’, though I am not sure that this was the intentional reading. Paks’ photoshop realist painting style has become the go-to for any wanna-be commercial painter in London it seems, and at this point I’m desperate for that trend to end.
Molly Martin answers the curatorial concept most convincingly, but this conviction is dejectedly all that the works augment in this show. Their soft pastel pieces get completely swamped and thus overlooked by say, the bolder palette of Iwan Lewis.
The press release highlights the similarities between Edvard Munch’s work and Lewis’. However, the friend I see the show with mentions Kandinsky and I happen to find this observation more accurate. The handmade wooden frames Lewis’ has constructed feel rustic, perhaps even cottagecore(?) These are rather winsome.
Finally, I’m not sure why Wills’ paints on jute. It’s feasible that this choice was made to make these humdrum landscapes slightly more interesting. I do however like the fox, foxes are great.
All in all, its laborious to see a group of artists shown together on the premise of a fragile concept with no real anchorage. An arduous pitfall to overcome: artistically and curatorially, neither triumphs here.
All I Could See Through the Port Hole Was Glittering Dust, F.A.F Collective, Henry Burns, Ali Glover, Ruairi Fallon Mc Guigan, The Split Gallery
I can’t think of many contemporary artist trios. The only collective that springs to mind is Leo Gabin whose work is often split into identifiable visual sections; print, sculpture, video etc. With F.A.F Collective, none of this is immediately obvious. You can only assume the trio work in perfect harmony, splitting the work load evenly with no delineation of tasks.
The construction of this installation is entirely unpretentious, succinctly succeeding to re-aestheticize waste material: the found becomes substance, not residue. The pod component of this work feels reminiscent of an early proto-type some soviet space engineer might have shown Stalin when the regime was constructing Buran, the Soviet empires first flurry with space travel.
The pod is glass fronted, revealing a beaded covered chair, half full ashtray and some used lottery tickets. It gracefully suspends in the air, counterbalanced by a Trebuchet (variation of a catapult) made from a reclaimed former workbench.
Once in a while, the gallerist nonchalantly prods the pod and it rocks to and fro. The installation takes up the majority of the floorplan, and with only myself and another person in the space, the gallery feels slightly claustrophobic.
The Trebuchet is monolithic, but awkward to engage with. And this leads onto my only real jibe here: there is no room for participation. The priority seems to be the presentation of dis-used and discarded objects removed from daily life, rather than an interpersonal interaction. The labour on display here is accomplished. But just because an artwork is big and invasive, it doesn’t necessarily make it “good” or even worthwhile.
However, it’s completely conceivable that in a larger space F.A.F could facilitate some form of relational aspect within their work, and this would be very exciting.
31 August 2024
Sam Feinstein, The Radiance of Color: The Paintings of Sam Feinstein, Provincetown Art Association and Museum
Clearly a Hans Hofmann disciple - “push/pull” - these works are an interesting iteration of form, colour and abstraction. Predominantly painted in acrylic, with a few oil pieces included for good measure, the show features a large series of works that both deflect and reframe contemporary painting. Some of Feinsteins’ early sketches are also a welcome inclusion, displayed in a vitrine.
The works are deeply layered and wrought with colour. Its tricky not to find moments in each that feel inviting, but Untitled (Cat 607) was a standout favourite with its warm washes of yellow. The oil impasto surface reminded me of the dirtied edges of buildings on London streets.
These works are obviously the result of a heavily worked luminist-abstractionist. You can imagine Feinstein working late on pier, looking out at the ocean. They feel entirely free, and completely authentic. This show is a welcomed retrospective for one of America’s, (and Ukraine’s) lesser know 20th century painters.
15 August 2024
Edge Condition, The Hudson D. Walker Gallery, FAWC
I’m ambivalent toward visiting the ad hoc loop of shady superfluous summer shows galleries put on whilst everyone in the art world takes a hiatus. Edge Condition is curated by American-realist poster boy Matt Bollinger and will shortly make its way into NYC for an appearance at the Armoury Show.
19 artists are included with scarcely any visual association, united together simply because they all spent time out on the Cape, (Provincetown MA) at the Fine Art Work Centre residency. Elizabeth Floods’ Dunes (March, West) a plein air painted landscape depicting the beauty the cape affords provides a literal depiction of what surrounds the residents during their stay.
Flood fluidly uncovers the sun splintering over the sandy mounds that embody the ever-changing dunes. Whats stirring about this piece is the hazy sky captured from a vantage point up high, allowing Flood to accurately seize the mottled frequencies of light that puncture the landscape. The airy temporality of the out-of-season months on the cape (when full time residents often drops into the 100’s) is whimsically depicted by the absence of figures, and their trails through the sand that take over the dunes during busy summer months.
Arghavan Khosravis’ painting, which depicts a women looking into a mirror (adeptly titled) draws on surrealist iconography. An elongated arm extends outside the frame, further grounding the rationalism of the ‘real’ in life juxtaposed against the backdrop of 4 doves, the universal symbol of hope and renewal.
Taylor Baldwins’ Unknown Scavenger is however the stand out piece. Chewing gum is repurposed as a mould to create a darkly satirical skeletal head that balances amongst a mixture of copper piping, decomposing air conditioning units and unwanted refrigerators. An ode to American post-consumer capitalism, Baldwin carves up the corpse of the streets of Queens, NY, reclaiming the unwanted debris and detritus, subtly mocking the decline of American Neoliberalism.
Understated, but undoubtedly a Matt Bollinger, End of the Dock depicts the American capitalist decline auspiciously. Bollinger has a knack for painting the issues that speak to concerns of our era, which I thoroughly enjoy.
Two figures sit half-arsed slouched at the edge of a dock with their feet hovering above the water beneath them, both with cigarettes in their mouths. The simmering discontent radiates from the blank facial expressions, the malaise of 21st century life resounded in their lacklustre posture. The scene feels unwelcomely familiar, thrashing out the free time/leisure time dichotomy.
Are summer group shows worth visiting? Probably not. But at least here Bollinger toys with the purist tenants of contemporary gallery culture, which we will see for the 9 months that follow.
03 August 2024
Garrett Lockhart, The World Awake, South Parade
Every piece in this show feels considered. Whether intentional or not, the work responds perfectly within the gallery space, and the dialogue between the two is consistent throughout. On view are several “paintings”, a film and a series of sculptures.
The “paintings” feature stars which are actually inkjet prints transferred onto reclaimed bedsheets. These are thinner than typically used canvas or linen, and the inkjet transfers more subtle than paint. The bedsheet is more porous to the watercolour pencil Lockhart choose to apply as a backdrop. These pieces therefore have a moody muted texture that works logically with the inkjet transferred stars.
Overall, both material choices work fittingly together, furthering the utilitarian every-day object invention the artist deploys. Alone, perhaps these works are easy to overlook, but within the space and with the other works displayed in the exhibition, they feel both relevant and worthwhile.
Shifting from the skyline Lockhart has created down to the ground are two neighbourhoods situated on low grey plinths. Konnyaku treated shopping bags are transformed from a by-product of consumer culture into permanent buildings, sustaining the intention of the object, to dwell. Inkjet transfers are utilised once more to depict windows on the buildings, whilst any branding has been removed by the artist in a wash of thick white house paint.
These situated neighbourhoods made of reclaimed paper shopping bags work favourably with readily available materials, whilst retaining their original ontology. The inventive use of medium choices fabricate an unpretentious climate and encourage the conceptualisation at play. These works remind me of early Win McCarthy pieces, both politicised and inventive, with a subtly that is armed and potent.
In a separate part of the exhibition in a cupboard accessed across the skylit corridor which features a short film and sound piece that depicts an architectural model house set ablaze. The model house becomes a fireplace, a reminder of our mental and physical entwining with capitalism.
A delicate yet socio-politically charged exhibition, Lockhart utilises materiality to the benefit of both their ideas and execution. The familiarity of the materials used, alongside the creative invention makes this show especially worthwhile.
Nat Faulkner, Albedo, Brunette Coleman
There are some interesting ideas that begin to expose themselves in this show, however, the overbearing weight of conceptualisation means the works ultimately suffer. There isn’t much here to see, and what is here feels vacant and unimposing.
For example, the mirrored wall that half-covers the rear of the gallery leaves me cold. In the centre is the reverse of a linen painting with only the title and artists’ signature revealed. The significance of the painting is only understood when reading the press release, and the over reliance on this is a recurrent theme here.
For an artist who is obviously concerned with light, rather than merely reflecting the contents of the room - which feels like an interior design choice - the mirrored wall could bring our attention toward something else. Instead it feels both too obvious, yet needless at the same time.
The show also includes large ampoules which contain various liquids ranging from champagne, to nytol and photographic exposing solution. These are mounted on the gallery walls. The static fluid visible in the translucent vessels only further reflects the stillness and abject feel of the show. The mounting style feels sterile and un-inventive, whilst also needlessly expensive to produce. Once more, material choices feel strange and uninspired.
Lastly, the show features two photographic prints which act as counterpoints to the ampoules. Here we see the various liquids put to use, the materialisation of a chemical intervention. A process Faulkner clearly has a stake in.
One print details a light simulator often found in darkrooms, and the other, an arbitrary sculpture. Both prints have a distinct DIY aesthetic which counteracts with the clinical feel induced by the mirrored wall, and the lab style ampoules.
The prints are mounted on thick ply board with steel u-brackets securing them in place behind an acrylic screen. These pieces isolated are rather interesting and delicately printed. However, the way these works are framed once more adds to the overall confusion of the show. Sadly, no amount of Valéry quotes could make this show any more entertaining.
13 July 2024
Edmond Brooks-Beckman, Sandpaper can’t do that, Duarte Sequeria
This show sits seamlessly within our zeitgeist, but not in an un-welcomed way. Nothing here feels specifically original or new. This show is overtly topical, but not necessarily ineffectual.
There are five pieces in total with the more charming of these seeing the artist work on paper. Whats initially interesting is that the materiality of the two paper works isn’t promptly discernible. Mounted carefully on board and framed, this lends the feel of stretched canvas, therefore avoiding any hierarchy alongside the other artworks.
The paper works have a soft muted colour palette that reminds me of distempered plaster walls, often found in century-old buildings across Europe. The chalky wash is seductive and visually stimulating, encouraging a closer examination. The chiselled surface feels like some sort of post-modern cave inscription and I enjoy these moments within the works a lot.
The most integral component of Brooks-Beckman’s practise however is the erasure, as a posed to the application of paint. Working also as a print maker, its obvious to see how relief printing has not only inspired, but also bled into his painting practise. This becomes blindingly obvious when looking at the other works which are all on canvas.
I find these pieces less successful as the rely more heavily on conventional deconstructionist painterly tropes. For example, these works all have meaty impasto chunks that cling to their edges. These mounds suspend themselves needlessly against gravity like thick lumps of muddy paint.
They do little to add to the overall aesthetic of the work and feel overexposing like a magician revealing all the secrets to their tricks. I do however like the idea of the paintings gradually decaying, which reminds me of larger Anselm Keifer works. This is evidenced by the piece hung above some white office furniture in the gallery which is littered with specks of oil paint.
The canvas pieces display a semiotic backbone, namely, text, sign and symbols. Many of these have been rendered illegible like some form of oil painters graffiti buff. The removal process is clearly delicate, and the layers of paint beneath reveal a heavily worked canvas that certainly encourages engagement with the viewer.
Ultimately, Brooks-Beckman falls within the deconstructionist painting epoch, challenging the way we consume paint. Whilst this show adds to the conversation, it does so with limited innovation.
Charlie Godet Thomas, Little Sound, Vitrine
Charlie Godet Thomas aims to seek out moments of silence in a world that rarely offers us any. A poetic encounter is sought, but unwelcome kitsch junctures reframe any distinct sensibility.
Little Sound has two main components; firstly a sound installation titled Dysfluent song (Water). This is a site specific piece compromised of 10 aluminium buckets which catch droplets of water that fall from a sprinkler system suspended on the gallery ceiling. The second component of the show features a series of cast rubber collages framed in vintage photographic paper boxes.
I caught Little Sound as part of the Fitzrovia lates programme, a relatively new concept that means galleries stay open outside their regular operating hours once a month. Vitrine Gallery is located next to a “city-worker-pub” and on this mild midweek summer evening the overspill of post-work drinkers debriefing about their day filled the narrow street.
Upon entering the gallery the noise from outside invaded the space until the door fully closed. The sound of the water droplets isn’t instantly obvious as the silence takes a moment to grasp the space. I only notice after seeing the ripple of the water land in one of the buckets that the droplet isn’t an isolated event, and the buckets surrounding me are all gradually filling up.
I read recently that most humans never hear silence during their entire life times. I think about all the studio apartments I’ve lived in. The hum of a fridge late at night, or the dripping of a tap prompting a swift rise out of bed to turn the faucet slightly tighter. And its in this moment the show works for me. The dripping isn’t an irritant, but rather a welcomed noise that realises some measure of slowness and undeniably instructs your curiosity.
However, the poetry laser-cut into the aluminium basins is surplus and distracting.The superficial phrases - “resisting the wind”, “fallen leaves”, etc - sound like throwaway lines from a Gary Snyder poem. They feel kitsch, but not in an ironic post-modern way (which also wouldn’t necessarily make them any more effective).
The second part of the show, a series titled Fix, feels completely detached from the sound installation.
These works are essentially block colour collages mounted in vintage photographic boxes and cast in rubber. I’ve never been a fan of plastic-based casting agents and the rubber does the work no favours here - cheapening what is already a half-arsed collage featuring pastel coloured bits of paper cut into shapes.
The most beguiling part of the series is the selection of vintage photographic paper boxes. These feature 80’s Kodak graphics along the edges and work as charming frames when mounted on the wall.
The Fix series reads like a desperate endeavour at trying to fashion a monetizable component of the exhibition. The drawback with this is that the correlation between the two pieces feels unresponsive. Inevitably, this weakens both works.
Vitrine Gallery has also opened its garden space for this exhibition and outside features another text piece by the artist. ‘Some Variables for Goodbye’, a pink aluminium wall piece featuring cut letters that half suspend on the wall and also lay scattered across the floor.
This piece is the most poetic part of the show. The following morning in an open letter on instagram, Vitrine announces it’ll close all three of its gallery locations. Citing the struggles for a mid-level gallery under the current market conditions, monetising an experience feels like something commercial galleries are still yet to master and this show is living proof.
London Based Art Crit & Reviews.