Wednesday, 23 August 2017

Venice Biennale 2017 part 2 Relational Practices


As I mentioned in my last post there were several performative and community related practices presented at the Biennale. The first one I came across in the Arsenale was the Planetary Dance by Anna Halprin. Her ‘Planetary Dance’ rituals were presented to the audience as a large wall drawing, consisting of explanatory diagrams with accompanying text; you were asked to work your way through and link to the photographs of activities that ran in a line horizontally close to the bottom edge of the work.
Halprin offered us a chance to help heal the world by joining its peoples together in a healing set of dances.  Dance diagrams and ritual dance moves were set out over the wall surface. These had been designed on a computer and printed out on vinyl, giving the work a ‘professional’ graphic designed feel, that I presumed was chosen to give visual clarity and explain the dances set out in the row of photographs below.


Anna Halprin


I was interested in the how the conventions of information graphics had been appropriated and synthesised with some of the conventions of what I thought looked like Najavo Indian symbolism.

Navajo symbols


Navajo sand drawing

Anna Halprin is known as a choreographer, so I presume her images are rooted in traditions of dance notation.
Ballroom Dance notation


Baroque Dance notation

Once again we have drawing filling a gap between complex alternative forms of communication; as information graphics, as diagrams that can be followed, as symbolic form and as an aesthetic that is informed by other disciplines.

Anna Halprin: Planetary Dance

The actual work is of course a performance, what you see in the biennale is a document of practice, (a video of the event was showing in another room), and how artists document practice is becoming more and more important. As performative work is integrated into contemporary fine art relational practice, it is in cooperation with its documention that it will be critiqued and this is as much lens based, as in sound recordings, in written records, as in observational drawings or diagrams.

The Crossroads Project

Bonnie Ora Sherk's the Crossroads and Living Library projects offered an alternative vision, one that demonstrated how a long-term commitment to local organisation can bring rich benefits.  Maps and plans as well as diagrams of educational resources were alongside photographs and videos, used to communicate the effectiveness of the work done.  It’s interesting to see work of this sort displayed on the walls alongside more traditional ‘aesthetic’ pieces. It can be hard to read at first, as you tend to be tuned into the ‘look’ of art and have to take a step back and think about how this would work in a community setting. The ‘evidence’ is often grouped together, framed to allow for the fact that this is after all a biennale and not the walls of a local community centre, (which I did find somewhat awkward as I felt it was a bit of a compromise, for instance some work was put up very high so it become impossible to read), but on the other hand I presume the curators had to think about how to give ‘honorific’ value to work that is often overlooked.



Crossroads project: exhibition view


Again we have the issue of art as documentation. Relational practices have allowed what we would have called 'community art' 20 years ago, to now be included within the broad lexicon of contemporary art practice. However when presented within something as prestigious as the Venice Biennale a certain formalism and nod to contemporary exhibition practices is apparent. What was interesting from a drawing perspective however was the role of mapping and diagrams, as ways to communicate these practices.

Crossroads project: map

Living Library: diagram

As with Anna Halprin's project you get a sense that other professionals need to get involved such as information graphics experts or graphic designers, photographers or video makers, if the work is to be communicated at its fullest potential. This type of work can tend to be octopus like in its various manifestations, and involve various and complex groups of people as both particants and audiences but both projects were presented as by named artists, Bonnie Ora Sherk and Anna Halprin, so perhaps I need to go back to Bourriaud's definition of relational practice as "a set of artistic practices which take as their theoretical and practical point of departure the whole of human relations and their social context, rather than an independent and private space." The artist is now the "catalyst", rather than the producer of 'signature' works. (See Bourriaud, Nicolas, Relational Aesthetics p.113 ) Perhaps the key issue with both these projects is that they are long term and involve a great deal of trust on the part of the other people joining in.




The Play



There was a fascinating section depicting ‘voyages’ and street actions by the ever-evolving Japanese performance collective 'The Play', who have been active since 1967 and whose work blends avant-garde theatre with social criticism. On the side of the canal was erected what was a floating playhouse and inside was a range of documents, that again included maps and diagrams of the events.

The Play: map of the river voyage


The Play: Map of voyage and Play symbol


Using a similar wall display to Bonnie Ora Sherk's, there was an integration of diagrams and photographs on the Play's exhibition, this time however the diagrams were much more sophisticated and seemed to have played a much bigger part in the group's communication and audience development strategy.

Shimabuku's sharpened Macbook Air

Shimabuku's 'Sharpened Macbook Air' was at the centre of an installation designed to make the audience replay in their heads the events that the artist had set up in order to realise his ideas. For instance participants in one performance were asked if they would swap their mobile phone for a stone axe, the exhibition had display cases of axes and phones that had been swapped.
Shimabuku: exhibition display case

Shimabuku: performance literature, including map

Again the importance of documentation was raised, Shimabuku had had made accompanying literature outlining the projects and this had an annotated map showing readers where events would take place.
Shimabuku's exhibition presentation was typical of several practices that overlap performance, installation, object making, video production etc. etc. Drawing is simply one aspect of a way of working that is ideas driven and much more related to the history of conceptual art practice rather than community art, but because both types of practice have to rely on documentation superficially they can come across as being similar, which is why I think presentation is so important.
The artist as "catalyst", is all very well, but we are all in many ways "catalysts", having to perform a variety of roles in relation to any art practice, no matter how focused it is on individual production. As soon as the work leaves the studio, a raft of decisions come into play, including negotiating with curators, technicians and audiences. Whilst work is in production a wide range of social interactions will also take place which will be affecting what the final result will be.

As you can see from the diagram above there are aspects of relational practice in all art practices and drawing, like writing can help to communicate this. As I pointed out in the last post, Erwin Wurm was for me a sort of focus against which I could measure what was happening, and in this post I have tried to look at some aspects of more performative or communal engagement, but Wurm's work is also in some ways very traditional, and it relies on an audience's awareness of all the old codes of reading sculpture as an object. The next post will therefore try and pick a way through what could be seen as more traditional work.  

Monday, 21 August 2017

Venice Biennale 2017 part 1 Erwin Wurm

Erwin Wurm

I have been to Venice again to get some sort of sense of the current state of the international art scene, this years biennale is entitled Viva Arte Viva and is "dedicated to celebrating, and almost giving thanks for, the very existence of art and artists, whose worlds expand our perspective and the space of our existence.”.  My filter is drawing, so what I pick out will of course be very biased, however when there is so much to see you need some way of cutting through, or you will just get lost.
There appeared to me to be more community based projects, drawing often being used to map out where things happened or to establish a point of view. There was a lot of model making, and drawing as animation, as well as a return to traditional craft skills, including textile materials and the obsessive image makers who just draw and draw and draw. But perhaps the most interesting issue was the relationship between drawing and performance.
The key artist in the middle of all these diverse and hard to categorise strands was for myself, Erwin Wurm. I felt he was able to both work on an intimate gently humorous level and in a publicly monumental arena, and at both ends of the spectrum produce work that was engaging and sensitive to its audience. Most importantly though was the fact it was funny.
Wurm is this year's Austrian representative and the first thing you see of his work is an upturned lorry right outside the pavilion.



Erwin Wurm

Wurm had had the interior of the lorry converted into a staircase that led to the top, you went inside the lorry, climbed up and then could look out over the whole biennale. A simple idea but very effective and one I know he would have communicated to the powers that be by showing them a very simple drawing. I see a lot of public art that I don't think works very well, but I could imagine this type of piece working in most city centres. It reimagines something very familiar and at the same time offers a platform for others to view their city from an unusual point of view.
I first came across Wurm when he was doing his 'one-minute sculptures', daft little ideas that seemed to cut right through the serious conceptual world of late 1990s contemporary art. What was always refreshing was that Wurm liked to show how you could perform his ideas by making small drawings, his version of Ikea 'how to' diagrams.


Erwin Wurm: One minute sculpture

On entering the Austrian pavilion I was soon joining in with his games, standing on things, putting my legs in holes and generally making a fool of myself, all the time looking for his signature drawings, which sort of gave you a licence to play.


On entering the caravan above, you could look for various tiny drawings suggesting what to do, such as lie on the bed and stick your legs out of the holes in the roof, or simply respond to the situation in whatever way you chose. Wurm invites you to become both a participant and a voyeur at the same time. As you see his tiny drawings, you become aware of your internal dialogue with yourself, "shall I or shan't I?", do I engage or not? You look around at others engaged in the same way, some take the plunge others do not. Some look closely at the little drawings, others stand back and regard the whole unfolding performance from a distance, whilst children just get on with the play aspect of this.

 
 

Wurm places drawing at the centre of all these decisions. This is drawing as information, it tells us how to operate in relation to the objects we encounter. But also drawing as choreography, a way of explaining how to do things with your body; drawing as sculpture, as well as drawing as a performative practice.

Instructions as to what to do when you get inside the caravan


The visual aesthetic that is developed by a combination of modern manufactured objects and small very individual informal 'sketches' drawn directly onto the object's surfaces is very 'humanising'. It's as if the objects have been personalised, in much the same way as when you have small children who draw on the furniture or on the wallpaper. They 'disrespect' the commodities they are surrounded with and see them simply for what they are, things to interact with. Everywhere else in the biennale guards were there to make sure you didn't touch the precious art, but here was one place you could stand on it, no mind touch it.  

After Wurm I found most of the other work rather pompous or overblown, but he had given me an interesting lens through which to view the rest of the work, which I will begin to do over the next few posts.




Sunday, 13 August 2017

Drawings in the Pallant House Gallery in Chichester

I have been drawing down on the South Coast and because I was in the area, dropped into the Pallant House Gallery in Chichester. If you are down in that part of the country there is much to interest anyone with an interest in drawing. The exhibition in the De’Longhi Print Room, ‘Women Artists: The Female Gaze’ which runs until15th October 2017 was particularly interesting as it is a carefully selected group of high quality prints focusing on various narratives of femininity.  Women artists’ representations of women are a welcome reminder that so much of art history is stuffed with men’s representations of women.  There were prints by Laura Knight, Cathie Pilkington, Moyna Flannigan, Laura Ford, Shani Rhys James, Gwen Hardie, Lys Hansen, Prunella Cough, Jennifer McRae, Joyce Cairns, Paula Rego, Kiki Smith and Suzanne Valadon, as well as an excellent charcoal drawing by Dinora Mendelson. 

Cathie Pilkington is using Mokulito lithography techniques to get a particular surface quality that reminded me of Cecil Collins. She is also a sculptor and I could see why she was using this technique as it allows an artist very subtle control over the development of surface textural marks in space. Her work was of particular relevance to me as I had been looking for a replacement for traditional lithographic stones or zinc plates, and this technique also allows me to use my etching press, as you don't have to use a dedicated litho press to take impressions from the plywood plates. 


Cathie Pilkington

Moyna Flannigan: The Blind House No.4

Moyna Flannigan is an artist whose work I have seen before in Glasgow. She is another of those artists that seem to have taken up a position that straddles on the one hand a traditional Goya-esque gaze that ruefully comments on the issues of the day and yet on the other hand she seems to be able to reference a contemporary mode which is much more playful and perhaps a product of immersion into comic books at a much younger age. I like her work and will continue to follow where she takes her imagery; she talks about her work in this video. 

Shani Rhys James is a Welsh artist that if you are working figuratively and expressively you ought to be aware of, she is probably one of the most underrated artists of her generation. I don't have an image of the print she had in the exhibition, so I'll leave you with one of her charcoal drawings. 
Shani Rhys James: The Black Cot

Jennifer McRae is a useful artist to look at if you are thinking about portraiture. She appears to find a way into the psychology of her sitters that doesn't sit 'outside' of the situation. She inhabits the world of the people she engages with, or at least seems to mesh her own subjectivity into theirs. This is perhaps what I took from this exhibition as something to learn from. There is as aspect of being male and of my generation, which is about coldness and distance. Not all men of course, if you compare Cecil Collins with Euan Uglow you get two artists with diametrically opposing world views. Even at my age, I'm still trying to clarify the relationship between my own world view and how I make images, but that's OK I only have myself to answer to on that score. 


Jennifer McRae


Thinking of the male gaze, a key proponent of the art of measurement was being exhibited in one of the upstairs galleries. The exhibition ‘William Coldstream: Measuring Reality’ brought together a small but very representative body of his paintings, as well as a few drawings. His style of teaching life drawing was still very influential when I was at college, and I well remember having to use the horizontal and vertical point fixing process to develop grids of finding across the surface of my life drawings. Looked at again I see his work as being too focused on the method. I found his little red and sometimes not red painted dots and dashes, and then around them, very tame, bits of ‘filled-in’ painting, irritating. It felt as if he could never really take on board the implications of what he was trying to do. If it was all in the measurement, then why bother to fill in the figure behind the grid of finding? I thought the work looked very mannered; the process itself becoming a style. This understanding of his work feeling somewhat paradoxical, as it is directly in opposition to what I remember being taught at the time, and this was that by using a grid of looking one would be able to avoid stylisation and be able to focus on the observation of reality. I found this work so dull and almost bureaucratic in comparison to the images I had just seen in the Female Gaze exhibition. All observational drawings contain a high degree of subjectivity, we select out from the world what we are interested in and Coldstream was no different. However he was in a position of power and his vision and associated teaching processes had a tremendous influence on others. Looking at the work of Euan Uglow and Myles Murphy, you can see Coldstream’s grids stalking them like trigonometric ghosts.


William Coldstream

I well remember going to the John Moores' Liverpool painting prize exhibition in 1974, Myles Murphy's painting 'Figure with Yellow Foreground' had won. I thought at the time how regressive painting was, and how it had still not been able to escape the life room, I couldn't believe anyone could be convinced by the abstract blocks of colour situated around an Uglow/Coldstream coloured in life drawing. However I was soon to be asked to teach life drawing on the Foundation course at Leeds and Murphy was one of the artists I would show students when I was trying to get them to grasp some sort of underlying form. Looking back I still find these images overly mannered and suffering from an avoidance of life, rather than a confrontation with it, which was if I remember rightly, often a life room mantra. 

Myles Murphy: 'Figure with Yellow Foreground'

Myles Murphy: Figure Study of a Woman

There is a 'school' of English artists that are associated with the Slade painting method. Most of which I find very reserved and cold, but occasionally an image will jump out at me or stick in my head, such as Patrick Symons' 'Dracaena and Diagrams'. It's the fine lines of the plant's thin leaves, set off against the painted rendering of pencil drawn diagrams that fascinates me. The initial drawings for the plant and the wooden stand, would have been of a similar nature to the pencil drawings on the canvas backs, but were gradually painted over as the image was arrived at. At some point within the evolution of the image the artist would have had to work hard to sit the diagrams back into the painterly surface and it's this interplay between the underlying diagram of composition and painted diagrams that ticks backwards and forwards in my mind and gives the painting some sort of life. 

Dracaena and Diagrams by Patrick Symons

Robert Dukes: Drawing after Millet

Robert Dukes is an artist associated with the old Slade painting school, however I am drawn to his work more than several of his contemporaries, simply because I feel he had more of an awareness of the essence of things. In the drawing above from Millet the compact energy of the farm labourers is what he has concentrated on, this being the essential message of the Millet. The painting of a cup below seems to have moved on beyond a showy set of measurements and is now simply a painting about the essence of 'cup-ness'. He seems more attuned to the inner life of things.



Robert Dukes



Euan Uglow 

Euan Uglow is seen as the quintessential post Coldstream artist. However of all Uglow's drawings it is perhaps small sketches like the one above that I warm to. The grid of finding is still there and the subject is 'caged' already in the rectangles of composition. However the 'sketch' still has an informality that comes from 'fast' looking, it is still being arrived at and in its arrival a certain fragility and tentativeness is captured in the very line quality of a pencil drifting quickly across the paper surface. Look at the three horizontal lines that touch the left side of the door or window frame that partly frames the model. Each line is a wavered uncertainty and yet as they gather to the left of the vertical they establish a particular space. In their uncertainty they become certain. It's that hesitant uncertain/certainty that I often respond to in a drawing. It suggests to me that the artist is lost and is yet still looking. A state we all need to be in if we are to find something new. 

There was also a very interesting John Minton exhibition on and an associated exhibition, 
'A Different Light: British Neo-Romanticism', both of which I enjoyed immensely and will at some point return to, as both these exhibitions had a lot to say about the nature of British drawing and its reliance on a tradition that looks back to both Blake and Palmer.  

John Minton: Surrey landscape 1944

Thinking about Blake, I was in Venice recently and saw Damien Hirst's recent exhibition, if you have been you will have seen his own gigantic reference to Blake. 


William Blake: Ghost of a Flea

Damien Hirst: Demon's head

See also:



Saturday, 5 August 2017

Jiro Takamatsu - Shadow and perspective

Perspective

The Henry Moore centre in Leeds' current exhibition is by the artist Jiro Takamatsu.  'The Temperature of Sculpture' is on from 13th July until the 22nd of October. So if you are thinking of a show to look at over the holiday and have stayed in Leeds for the summer, make sure you take a look. For those of you in the drawing strand thinking about how the work relates to you, a very useful video to watch before going to the exhibition is Jiro Takamatsu - Shadow and perspective.

As pointed out in a previous post, shadows lie at the centre of our collective thinking about the history and invention of visual art. Jiro's point is that we often forget them, and therefore as an artist you can play with this acceptance and highlight our lack of awareness. Perspective is also central to our thinking about drawing and has a long interrelationship with symbolic thinking. 
Download Panofsky's 'Perspective as Symbolic Form' here.  Panofsky's text is central to our understanding of perspective as a communication system, so why not consider it for your holiday read. 
String in a bottle.

As the string emerges from the bottle, it could be argued that liquid has been transformed into line. Blue and yellow lines that could be for conducting electrical current or are perhaps genie like, escaping from imprisonment to offer us imaginative new worlds. 

See also:

Saturday, 29 July 2017

Silverpoint drawing

My occasional posts on drawing materials always make me think of their specificity, of the way their very particularity shapes and forms the type of drawings that can be done. Silverpoint is a case in point. Each mark is very delicate and fine and you can't rub it out. You also have to prepare the surface, so that it has enough roughness to ensure the metal is deposited on the ground or surface as the point moves over it. 
These restrictions make for a certain type of concentration and focus, as well as a fragility that comes from the way tones need to be built up by the gradual massing together of many fine lines. 

Left: ‘Portrait of an unknown young woman’, c.1435, by Rogier van der Weyden 
Right: ‘The Virgin and the Child’, c.1509, by Raphael 

There was an exhibition at the British Museum a few years ago called Drawing in Silver and Gold: Leonardo to Jasper Johns, which brought together examples of metal point from a wide range of artists and times. Both Northern European and Southern European artists during the time of the Renaissance used silverpoint as it lent itself to the sharp delineation of details such as the folds of a cloth or the subtle variation of tone across the surface of a face. The at the time 'new' naturalism was ideal for the harnessing of a technique that would support close looking and fine details. 

Durer

In this drawing of a dog by Durer you can easily see the sharp, distinct mark that is characteristic of a silverpoint line made on a drawing surface coated with an abrasive ground.
Des Lawrence Obituary portrait: Jimmy Stewart: Silverpoint

Des Lawrence is a contemporary artist that has taken to silverpoint to make obituary portraits. In this case the delicate, precision of the medium and the way it changes with age as the silver tarnishes, create a perfect mesh between chosen medium and subject matter. Not simply an allusion to the 'silver screen' but a recognition of the historical precedence of the medium, used in the past to depict saints, and now portraying a faded star; the medium of silverpoint becoming a way of preserving a celluloid 'ghost'.

The most common recipe for making an abrasive surface was to apply a liquid made of burnt and pulverised animal bones or cuttlefish bound together with glue or gum. This could be applied in layers to a variety of surfaces from prepared wooden panels to paper and parchment. You could also add pigment whilst making the ground, this could act as a mid tone onto which you could add white highlights with a very fine brush. 

Jasper Johns: Silverpoint drawing

Jasper Johns is an artist that is always trying to play with the way a material can shift the meaning of an image, so it is to be expected that he would have used silverpoint at some time. The delicate etherial nature of the material produces an almost ghostlike image of one of his variations on a theme, making me think that in some ways for Johns the image is at times incidental. Compare an image using a different technique. 

Jasper Johns: Painting in encaustic

You can just about see the faucet to the bottom right of his silverpoint drawing and one of his Rubin vases in the centre, these re-occur in the encaustic painting above. Johns shuffles the image pack every time he approaches making an art work and over the years gradually adds new ones. The Rubin vase occurs yet again in the etching below, the aquatint providing a tonal richness that once again changes the visual read of the image. 

Jasper Johns etching

Taking an image through as many different ways of making it as possible is a direct consequence of Johns' often quoted maxim, "Do somethingdo something to that, and then do something to that", an approach to art making that often seems to work and is a great way of making a next step when you are unsure as to what to do next. 

The artist Susan Schwalb has focused on silver and other metal point drawings for some time and has an extensive body of work devoted to the subtlety of this technique. In her case she restricts her images to tightly controlled abstract constructions, this allows you to concentrate more on the effect that the process has on the visual quality attained and stops you getting distracted by the narrative of the image. 

Susan Schwalb: silverpoint

Susan Schwalb: Madrigal: aluminum/copper/silverpoint on grey gessoed paper

Susan Schwalb also uses the effect a toned ground can give. As you can see with the drawing on grey gessoed paper above, she has been able to sit the soft warm tones of copperpoint in amongst the cooler tones of aluminium and silverpoint, using the grey colour of the ground to help blend them all together. 


Cynthia Lin

Cynthia Lin depicts scraps of hair, bits of dust and those things that you usually want to wipe off the surface of a drawing when its been left out in the studio for a few days. She uses the delicacy of silverpoint on gesso to remind us that it is often the tiny insignificant things that we never notice that hold important messages about the way we move through life. Dust and hair the products of our own body gradually flaking off and leaving a faint delicate trail behind us. 

Roy Eastland is an artist that has used silverpoint on gesso to suggest an image coming into focus. He works on and into thick layers of gesso which allows him to scratch and sand back into his drawings, he revises and redraws until the image arrives out of a haze of marks. 


Roy Eastland

Eastland's drawings above were done from toys found in a museum, the process reimagines them, and uses silverpoint's sharp delicacy alongside sanding and scratching to suggest a dreamlike nostalgia for the forgotten toys of the past. I particularly like the drawings of a red Indian dancing, turning a small plastic toy back into a shamanistic dream image. 

As always there is a scientific principle at work here, the mohs scale of hardness reminds us that the ability of a harder material to scratch a softer material allows us to think about how to use selected materials to shape and form others. As one surface rubs against another there is an intimation of geological forces at work, the drawing's surface working as a miniature landscape, being eroded and cut into by the forces of metals and minerals dancing in tune to hand gestures and a changing mind as the artist searches for an image in the ground. 

You can easily make your own drawing tools if you want to work using metal points, or if you need to you can still buy both metalpoint drawing tools and prepared grounds from art suppliers such as Jacksons. I would personally recommend making your own but see this link if you want to just buy stuff and get on with trying things out. 

You can buy silver wire for less that £1.50.