Perhaps Something Perhaps Nothing

We attended the opening of this exhibition on 26^th February. It displayed work by Samantha Donnelly, Cornelia Parker, Paul Rooney, Rachel Whiteread, Katy Woods and Chris Wright, intended to be looking at the invisible and bring attention to moments of apparent nothingness.

I was quite excited to be seeing some of Cornelia Parkers work, I saw a piece of hers in Boston over the summer and it loved the concept of resurrecting materials, rescuing them and reanimating them. The way in which she suspends the fragments gives the sense of time pausing is really beautiful. The fragments in the gallery space were attached to a metal grill in the ceiling, which we were told was not how they were intended to be presented. I think as an artist you have to be able to compromise with the gallery, this one being a small and probably lower budget gallery I think they went for the easiest way of hanging up the pieces, I felt being able to see all the fixtures and fittings for this piece took away some of the impact.

The concept of invisibility and minimalism that they were going for could have been reinforced by the presentation. Obviously, the Met gallery aren’t really going to refurbish the entire space for an exhibition, but I felt certain aspects of the place did take away some of the power from the work. For example, the “3D doodles” created by Samantha Donnelly were quite intricately made and delicate, but were presented on thick, blocky shelves against an off white, textured wall. Perhaps the delicacy of the sculptures could have been enhanced by a delicate, barely there shelf against a pristine wall? I felt the lighting could have been more focused as well, it was very strong and mainly overhead, reading about them the concept of drawing attention to overlooked moments, by using softer or maybe more focused light this could have been addressed and it would have created some beautiful shadows as well.

There were some headphones mounted on one wall which the audience were invited to take and use. I think sometimes in these galleries you’re a bit too afraid to touch anything, you never know, headphones could be some sort of bizarre art piece, but no it was a sound piece that we could listen to. Some seats were provided so we could sit and listen for a moment. The piece was by Paul Rooney, called Words and Silence, which focused on winning back moments of time – quiet moments of sanity or something. I like listening to sound pieces in galleries, it does actually mean it is just you and the work for a moment; it is quite special to be given a moment alone with the piece and to shut yourself off from whatever going on around you.

Violet and I went upstairs for a bit but we weren’t sure if we were allowed up there, there was some video and a load of photographic lights set up, we didn’t actually think anything of this and came back down but now I’ve read about it, it was actually a piece!

I felt the audience was primarily art folk with nose piercings having serious discussions about art in secluded groups. It was quite a young audience, probably students from the Uni’s and our college or emerging artists. I don’t think people outside of the “art scene” would have even known about this, or even if they did felt like they were allowed to go. I do find it a little daunting going to openings, it does feel like being a bit of a gatecrasher for some reason, we mainly come for the free wine anyway and i think they tend to suspect that. There were a couple of invigilators who were quite polite but didn’t really engage with anyone, only to tell us off for touching the Whiteread piece to find out if they were made of jelly, the pieces were something that you did find inclined to touch, i’m not sure if the artist would have minded people touching them but we weren’t allowed. Also we got told off again when Violet walked out with the headphones in her hand, but that was understandable.

naughty naughty

Invader infiltrates cities all over the world by integrating these extraterrestrial aggressors into the landscape.

Thundercut alters the WALK signs of downtown New York by placing elaborate outfits and accessories made out of vinyl pieces onto them, addressing the diversity of the people in New York City. 

In the traditions of the exhibition space, works of art are intended to be experienced in isolation, you are there to focus on what you are being presented with, the work is detached from the rest of the world. Street artists felt that the gallery was too cold and elitist and by taking to the streets there is an air of freedom, it is not smothered in a sterile environment.

I think they intend their work for anyone visually aware enough to notice, but also to an audience who do not expect to be encountering art in their day-to-day lives.

These artists use the same methods as advertisers, in that they tend to hit areas that will be seen by the public, places where peoples attention will be drawn to already i.e. billboards, street signs, pedestrian crossings. I think street artists thrive off attention, being there and being noticed, searching for fame and acknowledgment.

What are the other motives behind these acts? Maybe just to entertain, to amuse, to make people look, search and engage with their work? Having your own distinct symbol or character would leave it up to the public to decipher a meaning, they want to cause a reaction and create a response. 

“If someone has had a bad day and finds one of our clothed figures on a traffic light on their way home, and it brings a smile to their face, then we have brightened up their day. Surprise and joy are our motivation.” Thundercut

seek and destroy

I seem to have been removed, eradicated, exterminated. The only evidence that remains is the trace of sticky fixer that you failed to remove! Ha. Oh but I’m still around, only I know all of the locations and some of them hidden so well that they will never be found. So have I found an audience for my pieces? Maybe not an appreciative one, a cleaner perhaps, who found my sticky fixative antics a nuisance and tried to rid the college of this dastardly plague. With the initial intention of trying to hide them, I still like to think they have a presence in the college and to whoever stumbled upon them would be curious to know what this peculiar object is, why it is there and who put it there.

Perhaps my work is more relational than I intended.

insignificunt

My photos are unworthy of a wall, a plinth, an installation. They have been banished to the deepest, darkest corners of the college, hiding in plain sight, but watching over in secret, waiting, protecting...
Sorry I’m quoting Transformers for some reason.
When I think about my approach to presenting my work in the past it’s always turned out to be a hesitant, shoddy, last minute attempt. I’m not really one for exhibitionism; I am a perfectionist and am reluctant to display my work unless i am totally satisfied with it, which in this case I wasn’t. The presentation of my photos ended up like this because I simply wasn’t happy with them. I became interested in exploring classic photography techniques at the beginning of the year, as I believe it is important to acknowledge the traditions of photography, the simplicity of what a camera actually is and how it works and ways in which we can record the beauty of the world we live in. In a snap happy era where digital cameras provide us with a fast and furious method of capturing what we want to capture, it is quite easy to see why traditional photography is becoming obsolete.
Ok, so I don’t think my photos were a convincing statement about the greatness of traditional techniques, but what interested me about my photos was that it was always uncertain whether it was going to work. With digital photography and well, digital everything, things are so easy to get right, it was exciting to use my cameras and just see what turned out.
The tried, tested and eventually failed approach to my project was always going to create some issues when it came to the final presentation, although I was creating a lot of this shit it was difficult to know how I could create some kind of display from it. I decided to look at my photos and cut out all the flaws, the bad parts, the parts that a photography teacher would despise and want to gouge his eyes out in disgust, and hide them around the college in places which I felt happy putting them in.
But If I continue to hide my work, who will know I’m there? Who will hear my voice? What is the point of making an insignificant art piece? My work is out there, you just have to find it, if you care to notice.