Sunday, 19 April 2020

Nicholas Barnes (b. 2003) & Toby Golding (b. 2004) (intervention), Untitled/Site Specific Artwork. Crosby Ravensworth, Cumbria. 2016-2019.

Nicholas Barnes (b. 2003) & Toby Golding (b. 2004) (intervention)
Untitled/Site Specific Artwork. Crosby Ravensworth, Cumbria.
2016-2019.
Pencil on Household Emulsion/Plaster.

In this piece the artist records a period of his own physical growth between January 2016 and February 2019, specifically his changing stature during the early period of his adolescence. The drawing was made by standing with his back to the wall, marking the position of the top of his head at approximate right angles to the wall and repeating this act at informal monthly intervals. The repetition of this act, its performative basis and the single but changing metric it records accompanied in each case by a month/year index forms the basis of a complex and self-referential work of a tightly constrained autobiographical nature which addresses the artist’s unwillingness to accept the physical limitations of his own (short) stature during this time and his anticipation of change. Some of the marks knowingly show an ‘aspirational stretching’ of natural posture.

In common with much time based and performance work, of which this drawing could be said to be the physical trace, the work has an extended durational basis of substantial length (3 years) that places it in sharp contrast to the relative brevity and drama of that masterpiece of 20th century performance art Chris Burden’s (b. 1946 d.2015) ‘Shoot’ 1971 which also required the participation of ‘another’ actor.  

It is not known whether either Barnes or Golding drew influence from works in the performance genre that also develop over an extended period and require an element of endurance to realise such as the frequently performed ‘The Artist is Present’ by Marina Abramovic (b.1946). However, the intervention of Golding in the work can be better likened to the brief and unanticipated engagement of Ulay (b.1943 d.2020) with Abramovic during the presentation of her piece at the Museum of Modern Art, New York in 2010 than with the ‘role’ of ‘marksman/assistant’ in Burden’s ‘Shoot’. Burden’s claim to sole authorship throughout ‘Shoot’ was maintained by the artist. The marksman, Bruce Dunlap, whose subsequent career as an accountant comes as something of a surprise, is not identified, recognised or even named by the artist as a collaborator but as an element of the work under the direct authorial control of the artist. Whereas, Ulay and Abramovic’s time together (3 minutes) in the NYC iteration of ‘The Artist is Present’ both formed and signalled a rapprochement  and even reconciliation between two artists of equal/unequal standing with a shared/appropriated history of collaboration, performance, partnership and dispute.

In ‘Untitled’ 2016 2019 Golding’s intervention has a dissonant effect. He uses his intervention, adopting the same idiom of mark making established by Barnes and even going so far as to use the same pencil with which Barnes has persevered throughout, to record his own greater height despite having been born later. Golding’s intervention is mischievous, antagonistic, confrontational, disruptive and even mocking and like Ulay’s unexpected participation in Abramovic’s  performance, committed him to substantial risk driven by his desire to claim ‘his’ stake in the other’s artwork. Dunlap never made this gambit and ultimately abandoned his artistic ambitions.

Golding’s mark making and intention can be differentiated from that of Barnes as he dramatically commits his own first name ‘Toby’ to the piece. This is an act of intervention not collaboration. In addition it is not known whether Golding faced away from the wall as he marked his own height which introduces the exciting possibility of a contrived fiction in a work otherwise deriving authority from its clearly defined method and discipline. We may ask whether the artist was in fact as tall as he claims to be.

Barnes’ marks however, made whilst facing away from the drawn surface, carry a tortured quality drawn from the artist’s contorted posture which he then develops to expressive effect by physically turning whilst retaining contact between the pencil and wall. This process oriented act extends the critical frame of reference of the work from a basis in the austerity and discipline of a purely documentary format from which anxiety may merely be ‘inferred’ to a format which clearly references a mid- century trope of works rooted in Surrealism and extended in the work of the  Abstract Expressionists in which ‘writing’/mark making are said to tap into the unconscious and approach the seat of anxiety as ‘automatic writing’/gesture. Barnes reveals himself to be both a writer and a maker of images of writing. The emotional scope of the work is thereby extended in this piece as anxiety can be both inferred and ‘read’ by the viewer in a final rendering that recalls the grafittiesque work of the painter Cy Twombly (b.1928 d. 2011).

The work is site-specific being located on the upper landing of the artist’s home adjacent to a body length mirror near the artist’s bedroom door. Whereas Burden and Abramovic both placed their works in an artworld context by performing in an art gallery, Barnes’ choice to eschew an art world context is given added piquancy in its embrace of his father Christian Barnes’ (b.1966) recent practice by situating his work in the locus of his home. Barnes senior’s notebook based works ‘Peak Flow Diary’ (2014 ongoing) and ‘Blood Sugar Diary’ (2016 ongoing) document in a similar way (by recording a single metric at regular intervals) his experience of Asthma and Diabetes and the struggle to resist physical decline against the processes of ageing and chronic disease. ‘Untitled’ 2016 2019 which stands in youthful counterpoint to his father’s stage of life can now be said to have been completed/abandoned by the artists. Barnes jnr. is now the tallest member of the household although irritatingly for him Golding is still taller.

As ‘Untitled’ is painted over we are given the opportunity to reflect on the fabric of the buildings in which we dwell and the extent to which they serve as a palimpsest upon which the narrative of our lives is written/unwritten.

Links/References.
1997; Cizza, G., Chrousos, GP., Anxiety and Short Stature, https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/9041314 accessed 18/04/2020

2015; uploaded by the failing New York Times, Shot in the Name of Art, Op-Docs, accessed 19 May 2020 | https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drZIWs3Dl1k

2012; uploaded by G Mmazz, Marina Abramović e Ulay - MoMA 2010, accessed 19 May 2020 | https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OS0Tg0IjCp4

2020; Tate Gallery Website, accessed May 2020 | https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artists/cy-twombly-2079


Saturday, 23 November 2013

Marcus Coates, 'Red Fox', 1998



















Marcus Coates b. 1968
C Print (Unique)
1180 x 1180
1998
£590.00
2013.025

This was purchased after meeting Marcus Coates at a dinner held ‘in honour’ of both him and Jordan Baseman at Lawson Park then the rented home of Grizedale Arts Director Adam Sutherland in 2002. Coates representation by the ghastly Jibby Bean had come to an end and Lawson Park had not yet been transformed into the luxurious pad/hq designed by Adam Sutherland’s brother and funded by arts lottery largesse which has now graced the lifestyle spreads of a number of style magazines.  

The farm is inconveniently sited (miles from anywhere) up a sump cracking track and the dinner was held in the un-refurbished barn which I remember well because of the alarm Lynn and I shared over the hazard of good clothing meeting a rusty nail or some similar in conditions of near darkness. It was cold - as was every meeting at Grizedale then. There were bobble hats and ‘t lights’ in jam jars, hot food in big pans, and a screening of Baseman’s film shot at the Roosecote Raceway in Barrow in Furness, featuring a stock car nutter called Grandad and an unconvincing fat transvestite called Adam. Coates also showed a film of a friend of his dressed up in football gear shouting obscene football songs into the forest. (See links below)

Screenings complete, speeches were made and backs were slapped.

Part of the function of the dinner was to draw to a close the almost permanent series of residencies that Coates seemed to have enjoyed at Grizedale Arts. It has not really been successful in doing this.

Coates early residencies had led to the making of a series of brilliant works engaging with the relationships human beings have with animals, most memorably ‘Stoat’ filmed by Miranda Whall in which Coates attempted to leave stoat tracks without breaking his ankles by wearing some impossible Stoat sandals which he seemed to have whittled from a stick and attached to his feet with elastic bands. It was immediately clear to me that Coates was making important work.*

The house had been arranged to display a number of pieces relating to the two artists and in what was possibly an insight into Adam Sutherland’s curatorial approach of the day a prominently placed biography of Aleister Crowley.

Coates had two small pictures displayed in the house; one of him quite literally giving the finger to a bird and one of him dressed in an orange boiler suit. The unpulled focus is sufficient to support the interpretation that he is a man dressed as a fox and also somewhat fox like. It also suggests a context of surveillance, that the animal is perhaps being sighted at a distance through binoculars or the sights of a rifle.

The photograph was again, taken by Miranda Whall who is credited as the camera operator at a location in the Malvern Hills prior to the Grizedale residencies. After the dinner I asked Adam if he could make a sale of the work and the deal was done by email directly with Marcus for £500 + £90 for the c type print.  I was astonished but delighted to discover that he sent me a picture 40” wide in a square crop which I had framed to Coates instructions by Alan Harvey. I had expected Coates to send me a picture identical to the print I had seen at the house in size and shape. Subsequently Coates has shown the photograph widely in a variety of smaller and differently shaped crops.

Since moving to Crosby Ravensworth in 2004 it has hung in the kitchen. Initially it excited a lot of comment, most of which arose from resentment at the ill-conceived and unloved fox hunting act of the same year. Our new friends and neighbours were seemingly all almost as keen on killing foxes as they were on killing Tony Blair. 

Now it gets completely ignored. 

Meanwhile in the real world Coates is currently shortlisted for the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square. His proposal is the best of them you can support it here: http://www.london.gov.uk/priorities/arts-culture/fourth-plinth/2014-2015-commissions


2014/12/23 Update: This picture has just been returned from an exhibition 'The Nuisance of Landscape' at Abbot Hall Art Gallery in Kendal. Review here.  Owing to it being Christmas and my being confused, having overslept and not being dressed at 10:00 am.... Lynn was away in Dorset. I had forgotten that the gallery were coming to return it in time for Christmas (Thank you very much) and seeing them through the kitchen window I completely mistook them for Jehovah's witnesses shooing my youngest son to the door to get them to go away!

Here it is in the show with some lovely people who prefer to look at a wall with some writing on it!


In a final touch of all things being connected in a deeply uncomfortable, sticky, drowning in quicksand type of way the picture was hung (hanged?) on the same wall which for a decade in the 90's contained the door to my office as Curator for Fine and Decorative Art! Adam Sutherland hung it with the text from this blog above. It is a tragedy that I could not have bought this for the gallery at the time and a continuing tragedy that Abbot Hall doesn't buy something from Grizedale every month! All public galleries are the same, waiting for cycles of validation to be completed before turning to the lottery (a voluntary tax levied on people for not being interested in art) to fund now expensive acquisitions. If I could have spent even £5,000 a year at risk on contemporary art outside this process I could have made a lasting contribution to the gallery and to artists. What is needed so badly in this country are development collections with a public role from which disposals can be made as these cycles complete.... but that idea is so alien to our public gallery culture that I can't ever see it being realized.

* This is an irony free line.

Links

Monday, 5 August 2013

Luke Jerram, 'Just Sometimes', 2010


'Just Sometimes'
Luke Jerram b.1974
Deck Chair with Printed Seat
Deckchair dimensions when flat = 1300 x 600 x 60
2010
Priceless (or £100 from the online shop)
Exh. 'Deckchair Dreams 2013' Royal Parks
2013.020

Rare though it is for something to enter the transparent collection on the day it was received because I do not do things 'in order' - for this, I'm making an exception. 

I worked with Luke as a project mentor on his project Aeolus in 2010 and have continued to act as a sounding board up to the sale of the work earlier this year. 

Luke has been following this blog and offered me a work. 

Did I want 2D or 3D? I said I was relaxed about it but that he should bear in mind where I live and so this morning a parcel arrived addressed to 'the relaxed Christian Barnes'. I haven't been relaxed recently, I've been stressed, so stressed I haven't made an entry in here for ages. It is pouring with rain today so the umbrellas are appropriate and the photo is in the kitchen and not in the garden. But none the less I love it. 

It also brings to mind a particular discussion with Luke. Aeolus went on forever, was hugely unwieldy, caused a lot of worry (not least to project co-ordinator Carolyn Black), financial risk and cost a lot of money - around £500k. It was eventually engineered by Arup so what else do you expect? It was fabulous and fine and has just been been bought by Airbus. There is a happy ending! Luke is always sunny side up. 'What could possibly go wrong?' and it is true that people with no plans who are open to opportunity are rarely disappointed!

The project did bog Luke down however. It was challenging and difficult and delivered in a very different economic and cultural climate to the one in which it was conceived and in the middle of it Luke went off to Rotterdam to the Witte de With Festival where he had a few days to do a commissioned event project. I seem to recall that while he was there, there was a bust up with the first project engineer (not Arup) arising from that curse of the email age the accidental forward. There were some anxious calls from the hotel though I may be off about the actual timing.

One of many ideas he proposed saw him buying a load of umbrellas and chucking them (tr. ‘arranging randomly by placing them upside down like paper boats’) in the waterways and he loved doing it. Quick. Instant.

It also kind of matters that Luke is colour blind, the element of not seeing the same way and not over designing, occupying a space where randomness and factors that that you can't predict or control occurs is key to the work.

It sits among his preoccupations around ideas of gathering and dispersal that suit festival type programming and also alongside his preoccupations with perception at the margins of both the senses and consciousness from REM sleep to mirages. 

It is the light touch that he does best. 

The relief of thinking quickly and just doing it was the perfect antidote to the Aeolus project. 

After three days they were gathered, given away, and are now revisited for this Royal Parks fundraiser. 

I will enjoy sitting on the deck chair and as I write he has offered me another - if they ask him next year, this time of the Sky Orchestra.

It also reminds me of the work of an 'artist, dreamer and blagger' living not far from here who works with umbrellas on water too. How spooky is that! I have seen quite a few of his umbrellas upside down in water in my time... not usually to the same positive effect.

Links

Thursday, 9 May 2013

Max Moodie, 'Camelia', Undated
















'Camelia'
Max Moodie
Oil on Canvas
1340 x 1080
1973
Gift
Low Commercial Value
2013.019


'Camelia' is painted with brushes and knives on a particularly coarse primed canvas. I'm tired of the number of people who sit down to dinner in front of it and say 'what is that supposed to be?'

It was bought from an exhibition at Abbot Hall Art Gallery by my father in 1973 I would have been six.

As a school boy I remember it hanging behind his desk and simply huge executive chair at his factory at Kent Works in Kendal.

It completed the 'modern' look of the office suite: White walls, a hi-fi with a smoked glass top, a roladex, other gadgets, a purple carpet, brand new office furniture of the 1970s chrome and leather, a computer room (spinning tapes and everything), the MBE for services to export and sales targets on adjustable graphs.

It was (to the schoolboy me) like a Bond villain's lair with only a white cat missing from dad's lap and a 'moo ha ha' laugh in relation to some dastardly machination.

'No meestre Bond.... it is time to DIE!'.....

See what tricks memory plays... Dad manufactured horn goods, the company was called Abbey Horn of Kendal and in the 70's it took the General Post Office three months to install a telephone of the type that didn't have buttons! 'Moo ha ha' that Dad! World domination postponed, time only to make a quick getaway (perhaps with the help of the RAC recovery service) in the Maxi, the Austin Maxi!

Max, the artist, was actually an architect with Cumbria County Council whose best work was his own house in Ingleton. Which no doubt, is now impossible to heat, the price of 'sculpting with light'/specifying single glazing across the whole of the north elevation levened only with louvered windows of the type commonly found in greenhouses it is also ruined externally by the planners insistence that he have a hipped roof when Max had designed it for flat. Why say the planners, no problem, simply put a hipped roof on top!













Max toyed with the idea of becoming a painter and was offered the show by Mary Burkett then director of Abbot Hall (but opted for a council salary and pension instead).

The gallery is the only one in the UK to own a painting by Max which can be seen by all (upside down as it happens) at 'your paintings'....http://www.bbc.co.uk/arts/yourpaintings/paintings/the-green-bowl-145411.

See that bit where they say 'tell us what you know?' I told them it was upside down.

'Camelia' is now what it always was - a bit of decor. It hangs in the dining room looking like a proper painting, albeit one consigned to the graveyard of ambition and rendered in 'hearing aid biege', faded even when it was new. The 47 year old me sees it very differently but part of me still clings to a view of it formed in that perfect moment nearly forty years ago when I understood virtually nothing outside the present moment and my father was alive.

Links
Your Paintings
Abbot Hall Past Exhibitions



Friday, 12 April 2013

Ed Ruscha, 'Real Estate Opportunities', 1970


















'Real Estate Opportunities'
Ed Ruscha b.1937
Self-published book
180 x 140
1970
Bequeathed by Audrey Melville Barker
£700.00
2013.018


The Getty Museum explains this book thus….

‘In Real Estate Opportunities, Ruscha presents, without comment, pictures of various tracts of land for sale in different parts of L.A. County’.

I’m tempted to leave it at that.

The Glassine cover is lightly damaged. I don’t know if it’s beginning to disintegrate or if it has been helped along by mice, I don’t think so. It is slightly browned.

There is a great interview with the artist and Dave Hickey. Ruscha is totally at ease, deadpan and dry. He is bang on the money and he knows it. Ruscha reminds me of Bob Newhart a bit and the audience is eager to laugh, enough to say they are in on the joke. I’ve put it in the link below but skip to 4:30 when the tedious introductions are over.

Actually there is something to say about it and that is to do with cars and how the landscape is seen and accessible from them. The views are all ‘driveby’ locations it’s somehow more noticeable in this book. In many ways the subject isn’t there, what you see is the infrastructure, the power lines, the commercial notices, the signs and the roads. They are all places of the same type and so the archetype rather than the particular is what you end up with out of the book, perhaps without really looking at any one of these banal photographs.

But its worth looking again. I saw a Ruscha show recently, one of the Tate gallery's artists rooms exhibits. In some of the photographs Ruscha had made the slightest scoring in some of the film plates to look a bit like chemical process film for movie projection as if his drive by photos were cut from a super eight film, they wern't. Now that it is rare to see film projected in this way it is also so much easier to read his intentions - to see  the  particular. Ruscha's gaze manages to be both staggeringly cool and tight at the same time. It made me look again at the photos in the book to see if there are any errors or slips? There are none, every photograph is perfect.

The provenance of this is the same as 2013.004 and 2013.017 in that all these books were collected by Audrey and Dennis Barker when sending $3:50 to an artist in California for a book like this was (in rural Cumbria at least) a rather rare activity.

LINKS

Monday, 8 April 2013

Ed Ruscha, 'A Few Palm Trees', 1971
















'A Few Palm Trees'
Ed Ruscha b.1937
Self-published book
180 x 140
1971
Bequeathed by Audrey Melville Barker
£400.00
2013.017

Made in Hollywood under the imprint of 'Heavy Industry Publications', a title chosen no doubt because of its closeness to Ruscha's desire to be 'the Henry Ford of books'... 1971. First Edition. Small octavo. One of 3900 copies. Good condition with plain black wrappers, no cover jacket of 'Glassine' this time.

Each photograph shows only the palm itself with the location erased from the image plate. The text on the left hand page tells the reader the location of the tree in Los Angeles and that each photograph was taken facing west. Each tree illustrated (there are fourteen of them) although conforming to type is very different. After the plates the book consists of blank pages. 

That's it then, type, method and context (experienced here in its absence) and formula. The same formula Ruscha uses for the discovery of other typologies of the built and cultural environment in Los Angeles like swimming pools and gasoline stations. From this straightjacket of constraints the little irregularities in the life and form of these trees is immense.

It is not one of Ruscha's more valued books. It is easy to find at specialist book sellers and generally retails for around $500, but it repays the investment of time surprisingly well.

Its provenance is the same as 2013.004.

Ruscha's book making is currently being celebrated with this great boxed collection http://www.gagosian.com/shop/ed-ruscha


Links




Saturday, 23 March 2013

Simon Cutts, 'late starlings startled by traffic resettle', 2003
















'late starlings startled by traffic resettle'
Simon Cutts (b.1944)
Edition unknown
220 x 810
2003
£175 (including framing)
2013.016

I saw this last year at Shandy Hall, Coxwold in the exhibition ‘Printed in Norfolk, Coracle Publications 1989-2012’. I’m surprised to find that I took a photo of it in the show. 

This is the last of them. None were available at the time. I tried to buy it without Simon knowing from the curator/owner who rejoices in the name of Patrick Wildgust! This last one was framed flat for the show. It was lovely to see Simon and Erica Van Horn there too and I’m grateful to Simon for remembering that I wanted it and for his encouragement with a project. 

I thought my request to buy it had been forgotten until the other day.

It arrived here only the day before yesterday.

I think they were all supposed to be supplied as a scroll/roll with all the handling that this implies but I prefer it like this. 

Looking at it fresh out of the parcel post it’s just as exciting as I remember and it’s going to look superb in the house when I find a long thin place to put it.

It’s so carefully considered, the two lines offset over each other in similar colours of dark grey and blue.

On one level it’s the visual language of cancelled print. It reminds me of the kind of devices that banks use to send you a secret pin number so that they can’t be seen by villains (Villains who might hold the envelope up to the sky but who are obviously too pusillanimous to simply open the envelope and read it.) or those irritating online security texts, ‘CAPTCHA’, that are randomly distorted but which can still be read by human beings, though not by machines.

The form of the printed words conjure up a literal image of birds from the figure and ground relationship of the letters on the paper prompted, no doubt, by the sense of the words in much the same way as the randomised blots of the Rorschach test acts on the suggestible mind.

If this were such a test I would see a group of starlings lined up in silhouette on an overhead cable, their wings rustling, flexing and popping with the sound a bag makes when it is shaken out.

This line, this short string of words shackled together by their own rhythm, depicts of a flock of birds in the late season gathering before they submit to the collective discipline of flight in an air-bourne shoal where changes of direction appears to be steered by some invisible bond of mutual consent.

Its lyrical feel is intense but unusually for Simon there is also something of an urban feel to it too which reminds me of my first encounter with this line.

I had been appointed by what was then Cleveland Arts in 2002 to organise a competitive process to commission an artist to create a major commission for Marchday PLC who then owned Centre North East in the centre of Middlesbrough. I asked Simon to propose a work for it and he sent me a small orange book with this line in it and a description of how it might appear 10 to 13 floors up on the principal façade in neon lettering that would be illuminated, only when the wind blew, by the operation of a turbine.

It was to be an ‘Aeolian Neon’, his words.

Simon felt it would be right for a townscape environment and that it would work in Middlesbrough.

It was a perfect proposal. It wasn’t chosen though and in an attempt to interest others in the work I sent the book to another commissioner who managed to lose it! 

One such ‘Aeolian Neon’ exists in a private collection in Northumberland.

The commission went to Ron Haselden who created a superb work (also lyrical) simply called ‘Rose’.

For the duration of the commission Rose made a terrific impact. 

I recall once seeing it from the crest of Bowes Moor.

I have a substantial archive of great public art proposals that didn’t happen and Simon’s aeolian neon is one of the best of them. It still galls me that an opportunity to commission other great works (albeit well-mannered ones) from Bill Culbert and Simon Patterson nearby were also lost.

These failures, failures to commission the best work, have been instrumental in my growing disaffection for competitive appointment processes.

It’s a mistake to ‘tender’ for public art, tendering exists solely as a device for mitigating risk the best strategies for managing this kind of risk involve judgement, reputational liability and personal responsibility.

I went through that whole regeneration boom and the resources which went with it seeking to apply, but failing to implement this increasingly strident mantra that rattles round my head… ‘If it were my money would I spend it on this?’

As for Simon’s proposal I’d have had a confidence sapping worry. Not about the work or the context but about the mechanical engineering and the realistic term (approximately six years) for which the operations of an installation like this could be warrantied. 

The proposal felt more like an event (a great one nonetheless) than a permanent proposition to me.


Links
Printed in Norfolk Website
Coracle
Simon Cutts (Dumbarton Oaks)