Saturday, 28 March 2009

RARTS Podcast by Alessandro Servini and Rosa Tyhurst


Discussion of some of the latest art exhibitions in London: http://www.switchpod.com/f115500.html?puser=none

Friday, 27 March 2009

Utopia and Art: A Talk by Chad McCail


Missile Story, page 2



Food, Shelter, Clothing, Fuel, series


Age 12 II
Alien Genital, page 3


A talk at the Stanley Picker Gallery, as part of their public lectures series, saw a discussion between artist Chad McCail and writer Esther Leslie. The discussion brought together the commonality of interests involving McCails interest in narrative sequential painting series, using invented narratives of Science Fiction allegory, or parody, along side Leslie's discourse on Marxist theories of aesthetics most prominently focusing on Walter Benjamin. The Talk seemed to have two separate strands, one focusing on the politics of aesthetics that McCail utilizes in his paintings, a aesthetic dealing with the visualisation of idealistic collectivist visions of freedom and equality as well as propaganda and its authoritarian nature. For this section a lot of the information imparted was McCail taking us through his works narrative, recounting exactly all subjective qualities in each framed story. This gave a precise background to his critical thinking and ideas behind picture construction, but as a result it was hard to read anything else about the work, and left not just me but many people puzzled about the works translation from artist to viewer in a more formal setting. Without his explanatory presence the paintings direct (and most importantly only real) meanings would probably have been lost in the ambivalent actions his graphically hard edged figures static performances. Aside from the work itself, McCail's presence and eagerness to put across his Orwellian politics was very enjoyable and constructively informative. Linking this more generalised interest with that of personal experience links to the second part of the discussion. This interest in politics idealism conflicted by human nature, put across from a detached sci-fi narrative, is married with a sense of personal experience put across from the angle of the artists reading of Psychoanalysis. McCail Linked his own childhood experiences of violence and sexual curiosity with those of the psychoanalyst Wilhelm Reich. How his sense of curiosity was tutored with a sense of violent repression informed his works sense of idealised freedom and how human nature has thus far prevented it. Utilising religious paradigms as narrative structures and symbolism his work became more involved with both text and image, crude cartoon figurative shapes and rigorous structuring of frames and sequence in comic book format. 
  Overall, his work was interesting in the sense that it invokes a didactic message in its obvious structuring in order to hint at something else in its aesthetic or title. However, a lot of this is lost in some of his more highly rendered works such as 'Spring', which gives a cartographic view of a revolution taking place, loses its inherent meaning due to the works visual inability to describe its own action. It is a work of immense detail on one level in terms of scale and density, but on another the abstract qualities of the perspective and the rendering of place in architectural layouts, mean the distraction that occurs between objects and symbols or signs leads to a convoluted mass of conflicting language. Most successful are his pieces detailing his childhood experience, where the layout losses its sequential series structure to become individual scenes of action in there own right. Maybe they are also successful due the losing of a graphic novel structure, informing its structure more from a high art heritage. I saw something more akin to early renaissance painting in the forming of its storytelling. Actions in different time spaces take place all in a single piece, something similar to the compositions of the likes of Fra Angelico and Perugino. The same thing takes place in 'Spring', as the course of the narrative in different parts of the work allude to different actions at various sage of a revolution. In his series '4-12' it is a far more successful language and far better informed as to where it is coming from.

Tuesday, 17 March 2009

Bronson: Alter-ego and the construction of myth




Nicolas Winding Refn, seems to constantly be battling the same criticism leveled at Kubrics 'A Clockwork Orange', namely the glorifying of violence. And while that argument is strictly untrue, the films relationship to Kubrics similarly stylised look at criminality is close in many other ways.
While loosely termed as a biopic, the film is a lot more deep seated than a portrayal of ones character. It is in many ways the opposite to what I have discussed in the 'Che' biopics, there the films aim was to deconstruct myth into a more tangible sense of human character and emotion, with all the follies and contradictions that came with it, shot in an unfussy and realist manner. Here, however, the opposite could be said, as Refn has described; 'it's not so much a biopic, more about a person transforming himself. He is a person who physically morphed himself into becoming 'Charles Bronson'. So in contrast to 'Che', 'Bronson' puts forward a character physically constructing himself into a mythical being, and the film is shot accordingly. Borrowing heavily from Kubric in terms of the use of sound and moving image, the portrayal of extreme acts of violence and hysteria juxtaposed to operatic music, sets in line these obvious connotations to the fictitious playing of a character and the theatricality that this process involves. Also the narrative device of having the Bronson character on a theatre stage in front of an audience to narrate at certain moments continues this theme of filming the fictitious, symbolic and almost metaphysical incarnations of Bronson's world, suddenly something more akin to formal cinema.  Although we Bronson giving his life account it is only when in prison or on his stage that the transformation begins. It is a prison drama about a character who doesn't want to leave and will never reform, something we realise from the beginning, something that we won't fully understand, just something we must just run with. Refn has confirmed this futile point when discussing the portrayal of Bronson and the films aims, 'In the original material the writers were trying to psychoanalyse him, but if you do that you actually degrade him, because he's too intelligent, too sophisticated ... He's an extremely intelligent conceptual artist who found his stage, and for some reason it was in the form of solitary confinement. In my movie he's an artist searching for a stage on which to create his performance'. To this end, we see his character flaws (not only in extreme acts of violence), in his lack of proaction, as described in the film by a prison governor, 'Godless and nihilistic acts of aggression'. We hit a complex point in the film as it becomes apparent the aims of Bronson's violence was not to suit any positive end to further himself, but is borne out of pure frustration at his lack of being able to express himself. In the end the use of violence can be seen as a way to portray his character to the world, trying to gain fame this way. Again as Refn describes 'the film is also about the consequences of fame: once you achieve something you will lose something' in this way he achieved infamy but lost freedom and any other possible hope or ambition in his life. 
   One crucial scene for me is during his brief hiatus outside of prison in which he returns home to his mother only to discover all his possessions from his earlier life are no longer present, reflecting the fact that his old identity is forever lost due to the process of change the prison life has given him and his new alter-ego.    
  The films structure is set out in a fragmented narrative, between actual (possibly existential) narration and the films recounted narrative. Beginning with the character introducing himself in a close up to camera, from which point we get his life story recounted by him interposed with direct statements from the character himself from his more than symbolic stage. The stylisation of the film, aside from the overt era defining soundtrack, is the culmination of certain recurring shots in the film, dead-pan portraits of full-length figures in front of a flat background in a sort of no-time before a scene of on coming violence as they just watch Bronson before his rage. Also a panning shot following characters movement up and down a space from a side angle offering a mid-shot side profile and overtly referring to the fourth wall behind the camera, that of a theatre audience in a Brechtian manner.
  The film is incredibly subversive and intelligent in many ways, although losing at times due to the overplay of swearing in order for laughs, the formal almost modernist touches really highlight the films concepts and unground any possible notion of violence being used in a glorifying way, especially when you consider Bronson never uses it to gain anything, constantly ending up as a beaten pulp at the end of each 'performance'. These performances don't glorify the act they just highlight the futility of it all, and that of Bronson's existence.
   Finally as Refn describes his intentions for the films reading ' I thought, what if we turn it on its head? it is much more fascinating to his life like a carnival, because Charles Bronson is not a gangster or a criminal or anything like that... We just have to observe and accept him'.




Alter Modern: Post Modernism Dead?






Curated by Nicolas Bourriaud, the writer of Relational Aesthetics, and the co-founder and co-director of Palaise de Tokyo art space, one the Paris' most pioneering contemporary art galleries. For this Triennial, a representation of contemporary British art, Bourriaud has focussed his attention specifically on the Global Culture of our society and sees it as the entering of a new era beyond the post modernist state we have been used to and enters into a new discourse of art engagement where we look back to modernist discourse in order to look forward. A new Modernism is created on which is not informed by western cultures abstract language, but a new globalised Modernism. Stimulated by the economic meltdown as a turning point in world society and a time to reassess, we now look at the world from a Global community and not towards one. In this sense the merging of world cultures and our awareness of them leads to the need for a new thinking about the perception of Art and its relevant meaning in our new era. Journey form is the way Bourriaud describes it, the viewer taking a journey through time and space, approaching many 'scrambled' old regimes and established practice, but the works are made in a new way, interrelating beyond our previous readings of works. The reading of the work is more about the journey than the destination. Bourriaud's main and most sweeping statement is not only that Post-modernism is now obsolete but that its relevance at all was an anomaly, just an error in Modernism's grand design.
  I find this a great misgiving, not only a reactionary opportunist and sensationalist statement to make with little to support it in the short timeframe since the economic downturn, but also a greatly arrogant one. Given the chance to curate possibly the biggest gig in contemporary British art, Bourriaud decides that Arts entire meaning should be reassessed to be in keeping with his rather spurious view of the world. It's not even as if this is in keeping with the rest of his writing, after Post-Production and Relational aesthetics which were very good and original views on where Art is heading, he seems to suddenly have changed tack and blurted out a whole new manifesto, to be in keeping with Zizek and Ranciere on the politics of aesthetics but at the same time extend and contradict their writings to a point that the last 80 or so years of art discourse never happened.
  If you look not only at the current policisation of  contemporary art and art criticism, but at the past few years since the height of post-modern thinking in the 80's, then I think of the most prominent writers at that time; Baudrillard, Eco, Derrida, Deleuze, Guattari I still see their writing as incredibly relevant to today's society and how art practice is developed. Looking specifically at Baudrillard in relation to many of Bourriaud's chosen artists, Baudrillard's ideas of a loss of the real and the existence of only the simulation which has no original are easily related to those artists. David Noonan's Ritualistic and fictitious collage spaces, Simon Starling's Desk series, Nathaniel Mellors' Giant Bum installation with the cybernetic heads at its centre, and not to mention Charles Avery's completely fictitious society in which reality is a hidden other world, and the art he creates is relevant mainly to the fictitious world and not ours could not be more of a hyperreality. Many artists work that interests me, as I have mentioned previously deals with fictitious narrative and alternate, alien view points from which to perceive and comment on our world. Having said that, Bourriauds exhibition aims to that, also, but that doesn't make me any less of a Post Modernist or the triennial ant more Alter Modernist. 

The Russian Linesman: Modern perceptions of society





Mark Wallenger's curatorship in the Hayward gallery, bring together works of varied disciplines from varied periods of art history. From Greco sculpture to Contemporary works by the likes of Tacita Dean. Although curated by Wallenger I see the over-arching influence of Ralph Rugoff over the whole proceedings. Referencing mainly the Psycho Buildings, and Painting of Modern Life exhibitions, the Russian Linesman show has much the same thematic concerns and ideologies, of our contemporary outlook on our world and how reality is informed by the distortion of imagery around us. 
 More to follow...

Che parts 1+2: The Human behind the Icon



Steven Soderburgh's four and a half hour epic first shown in its entirety in Cannes of last year, was subsequently split into two films for major distribution. This could be viewed cynically as a marketing ploy for twice the sales, and also the daunting sense the average cinema goer would feel when contemplating the viewing of a film at such length. However the viewing experience of the first part separately and then both in their entirety (as was my experience), was that the first film acts successfully independent of the second.
  Coming as it does from the period just before the foray into Cuba, some years after Walter Salles' 'Motorcycle Diaries', the film charts the major success of Guervara's Revolutionary campaigning. Much like that previous film, Soderburgh's aim was to truly deconstruct the revolutionary icon, to bring a much more human story that shows his flaws both physical and moral. From his constant asthma attacks to his execution of guerilla traitors, scenes are inter-cut between Che in amidst the lush greenery of the Cuban forests during the harsh campaigning, and black and white scenes from the post period in which we here arguements condemning his actions. Subsequently we see both Che the guerrilla activist as doctor and teacher to the sick and uneducated, and Che the politican with whit and cynicism towards his capitalist counterparts. What aids the pace of the film aside from the two narrative lines is the wealth of charismatic supporting characters, who often bring humour and relief to the often droll or pensive Che. The films outcome is never in doubt from the first, whether you know your modern history or not, so we are not being asked of the film to follow its narration but question each moment and decision taken on a human level. This is a humanist film as much as a political debate. 
   The second film however, I felt for many reasons was in stark contrast to the first in many ways and not all in a positive way. In many ways it is a more earnest film, it doesn't set out to entertain its audience, there are no light reliefs or charismatic characters, even Che is an elusive ponderous sage. This film is far more a character study than the first, to enlighten to the Humanity of Che, Che in his darkest hour when his revolution and ideals fail both militarily and socially in a propaganda sense. Far from the glory of the first part with its ideological parade against authoritarian oppression, here he comes up against democracy and fails. The greatest part of the failure shown in this film is the in-glory of it all. I am in many ways reminded of Werner Herzogs 'Aguirre Wrath of God', not because of the protagonists slide into madness and despair, but the way the landscape mirrors the characters psychological state, dry, barren, and without escape. In many ways Aguirre's disillusionment is matched by Che's but in a more sombre and less theatrical fashion.
  Although it stands as a film in its own right, the two together are as one. Without having seen the first, there is no way you could fathom any reason for the constant continuation of their crusade. All the pace and motion for the fall is set up in the first act. For this reason the triumph of the first is balanced by the tragic consequences of the second. 

Wednesday, 11 February 2009

TH.2058: DOMINIQUE GONZALES-FOERSTER






Concerning my interest in fictitious narratives in art, this exhibition transforms the Tate turbine hall into a Dystopic shelter of the remnants Human existence in the far future. As used in both literature and film to reflect on issues in the current world, from a detached oblique view in a false future, Foerster uses the idea of a knowingly invented myth to reflect upon our current state of Globality, how sensationalism in the media creates this same type of apocalyptic hysteria, as well as using this same overarching view of our world in a different time frame to look back on current art and recent art history in the form of public sculpture.
  The space itself lends well to a dystopic environment, being a post industrial space, institutionalised in a clean clinical way, a very sci fi aesthetic. Within the space, we see the appropriation of many public sculpture works but most notably the two overarching forms by Alexander Calder, and Louise Bourgeoise. These act like giant H.G.Wells aliens demolishing a city. Along side the appropriated sculpture is a film using scenes taken from various sci fi films hinting at an future world outside of the turbine hall, foreboding as it may be we are sought to seek comfort in the harsh steel beds, endearing in their uniformity and bright pop colours, alongside another sci fi referent in the copious literature we are offered, all surrounding and supporting the same stringent theme.
  What takes me most about this installment of the unilever series is the overt narrative, from the text above the entrance acting like the first sentence of a novel, to the constant reminders to the fact that 'hey we are in the future, a fantasy future fed to us by mass media', although we are overladen with didactic referents I do feel the curation of multiple elements from various art historical periods was brought together in a quite ingenious and novel way.
 I can't help but feel we are seeing alot of overt narrative in contemporary art. The installations of Charles Avery, Matthew Richie and the paintings of Chad McCail all do a similar thing in displacing a low brow cinematic narrative alongside artwork. This leads to the viewers relationship being very much from the side of artists intention leaving room for very little else. Only the questioning of why such an obvious sentiment, and what could he really be trying to say in the place of this obviousness. As with Baudrillard; the merging of Science fiction and science fact are leading towrds the same path due to their informing of one another.