Interview with Nick Kaplony

It is a pleasure to interview Nick Kaplony, a freelance curator, practicing artist and education officer at Battersea's Pump House Gallery. He is also the programme coordinator of Artquest.

Untitled (Siren) © Debbie Lawson

Kaplony is curator of the forthcoming exhibition at Core Gallery 'Psychometry', an exhibition of works by 12 contemporary artists that channel and manifest the intangible and invisible through their work. The exhibition takes its title from a practice employed by psychics and mediums, whereby past events and personal histories are divined through physical contact with an object.

I talk to him to find out his motivations on contemporary curating, more about the forthcoming show, and his recent developments within his work. 

October >>

CP: Can you tell us about the forthcoming show at Core Gallery ‘Psychometry’?

 Monkey No 6 © Peter Jones, 2007, 30.5cm x 25.5cm, oil on linen

NK: Psychometry is a group show that takes it title from a practice undertaken by spiritualists and psychics that allows them to ‘read’ the intangible attributes of an object by touching it, such as its history, or the history and emotions of the previous owner. It’s looking at artists who can be said to do a similar thing with their practice: Making intangible and invisible ideas associated with their subject and the materials they’re working with manifest and visible.




There are twelve artists including myself involved in this show Claire Haddon, Peter Jones, Sean Langton, Debbie Lawson, Sophie Molins, Michaela Nettell and Tom Simmons, Richard Paul, Helen Pynor, Melanie Stidolph, Karen Stripp. All with very different approaches.

Jungtis © Michaela Nettell and Tom Simmons, May 2008

To give you a flavour of some of the sort of thing to expect: Debbie Lawson’s carpet sculptures and furniture installations which take gallery visitors on a psychological journey through domestic space, where everyday things are eerily animated and the very fabric of the interior comes to life. Peter Jone’s paints meticulous portraits of old toy monkeys. The wear and tear of their history animates their features and imbues them with character and life. Richard Paul immaculately photographs seemingly disparate objects. The photographs are at once detached, poetic and evocative, the pairing of objects suggests not only a relationship between them but an overarching significance that is greater than the sum of its parts.

Range © Richard Paul

CP: You were recently involved in the judging panel of London Art Award 2010 that was part of the London Fringe Festival.? You said: ‘I see it as the Fringe Festival’s role to help discover hidden gems.’ What did the festival unearth and what were the highlights of the selected works?

NK: Well it’s the first year of the festival, so it’s really just the tip of the iceberg, but it’s already showed up the vast diversity of practice being undertaken. There are some impressive developments in painting particularly this year.

CP: You were involved in the Slowfall projects, an artist-led collective that held the aim of ‘creating local and international exhibitions of art in unconventional venues’. How important is the ‘space’ when considering the curation of a show?

NK: There are many different approaches to curating and putting an exhibition together. I enjoy working on exhibitions where the work has some kind of relationship to the space its being shown in. Particularly when exhibitions are put on in locations or buildings with a rich history of strong identity of their own. It’s a wasted opportunity to ignore that I think.

Installation shot from 'Ringing'. Exhibition in St Augustine's Tower,  2003 © Nick Kaplony

CP: The collaborative process has become a growing interest within contemporary curating, with exhibitions such as ‘Indian Highway’ at Serpentine Gallery, 2008 and Subversive Practices at Württembergischer Kunstverein Stuttgart, 2009. What is that excites you about the polyphonic voice within the exhibition process?

NK: One thing to say is that I think curating is (ideally) a collaborative process even with only one curator involved, where the curator is collaborating with the artists they are working with. When a group takes on the task of curating much of what excites me about it can be said to be true of collaboration in any process: If its goes well several points of view bringing unexpected results, greater than the sum of its parts. There’s also a relinquishing of control which is liberating.

Vigour Mortis © Jock Mooney, Exquisite Corpse Exhibition

© David Raymond Conroy, Exquisite Corpse Exhibition

CP: What are the challenges and uncertainties, involved with putting a show together, such as: Exquisite Corpse, Core Gallery, 2010 which brought together 11 artists and curators. How did you effectively manage the collaborative process?

NK: It’s funny because Exquisite Corpse, though it was most certainly a collaborative exhibition, in that contributions came of several artists and curators, there was very little collaborative process in making it happen, no negation and no compromises that often play a part on collaboration. I set up a system, and a set of rules whereby curators/artists could make contributions to the show without having an overall vision of the exhibition. A chain of curators was created. Each curator then made a selection of work based on that of the previous curator in the chain. The work was placed in the space in the order that it was chosen. 

Exquisite Corpse, Exhibition shot, 2010 © Core Gallery

CP: ‘Exquisite Corpse’ was an experimental approach to curating that presented the viewer with an insight into the selective processes involved. Was it your intent to demythologize the notion of the ‘exhibition’? Will this exhibition influence future projects?

NK: I was interested in how artwork is interpreted, and how people make connections between individual pieces. I thought that setting up this chain of selectors visitors would get a flavour of the processes and thinking involved in putting an exhibition together. I’m sure it will have an influence on future projects but I’m not quite sure how yet. Its bubbling away at the moment


CP: Where do you get your inspiration for curatorial projects and does your own practise inform your approach? 

NK: Definitely, the sort of themes and ideas that I’m interested in my practice are also the things that I’m excited by as a curator (though not exclusively). In terms of what can lead me to develop ideas as a curator, it can be anything from a space, or sometimes I see an artist who’s work I particularly like, and then, gradually, as I come across other artists in my work, I can’t help but see connections and slowly the idea for a show is formed. This is very much what happened with Psychometry, the next exhibition I’m working on at Core gallery.

Breath, 2010 © Nick Kaplony

CP: What are you currently working on within your own practice?

NK: I’m working on a new video work called “Breath” which is an exciting departure for me. I haven’t worked with moving image before (well, barely). It’s leading me down an interesting path, looking at ideas around faith and medicine.

CP: How do you resignify artworks in order to create a fresh perspective that has a strong curatorial authorship?

NK: I think (hope!) that creating a sense of curatorial authorship isn’t my concern. In getting a body of work together inevitably the relationship between individual pieces in an exhibition colours the reading of the works, they resonate and effect each other, and I guess you try to create connection which highlight relationships that you have observed as a curator and also offer the possibility of new interpretations.

CP: As the programme coordinator of Artquest, the London-based service provider for visual artists. Would you have any advice to offer graduates, in preparing their degree shows? Approaching gallery spaces and the continuation of their careers?

NK: In a nutshell read the Artquest website! No, seriously everything that you need to know is on there and it’s an invaluable resource. But in terms of bite sized advice: Treat your degree show as it’s the beginning of your career as a professional artist, not as the end of your studies and with regards to approaching galleries, unless they specifically say they accept unsolicited proposals, don’t approach them cold! Build a relationship gradually.

CP: Do you think the economic downturn offers the possibility to cultivate a new landscape for the art world? What impact do you think this has on artists and institutions?

NK: I would use the word necessity rather than possibility. Its going to make it harder for everyone, but it will be interesting to see what direction practice takes when there is less money / funding leading the way.

CP: And finally if you could curate any show, with any artist/s and in any space what would it be?

NK: That’s tough. I’d love to do something in huge country manor, with a maze and sprawling grounds. As to the specifics of the artists it would depend on the location but something with a mix of young and more established practitioners.


Thank you Nick Kaplony!

Interview with Rachel Price

© Nicholas Bailey

I am pleased to interview Rachel Price an Independent Curator and Artist. In this interview I gain insight into the possibilities of sculpture, art’s political potential through contemporary curating and I find out about the highly anticipated exhibition ‘Sisyphus: The Absurd Hero’.  

Price draws together the work of 7 exciting UK artists presenting new sculpture and video responding to the Greek Myth of Sisyphus. The exhibiting artists all explore notions of the absurd, futility and circularity in their practice whilst simultaneously displaying an immersion in the process, be it material or conceptual.

Price’s sculptural practice examines the often frustrating relationship between image and form, working on the assumption that our physical experience of the world helps inform our conceptual formation of it.

Alongside her studio practice Price works as an independent curator providing opportunities for emerging and established artists to produce new works in response to challenging curatorial themes. Price graduated from the University of Reading in 2006 and has exhibited throughout the UK.

> > October 2010

 

Still from ‘Daedalus’ © Rodney Dee

CP: Can you tell us more about the forthcoming exhibition at Core Gallery ‘Sisyphus: The Absurd Hero’? 

RP: It was a case of a number of elements coming together at the same time and an attempt to articulate a general air of impotence and repetition in the art world. I was simultaneously researching the work of some absurdist writers, and revisited the works of Albert Camus and specifically 

'Chandelier' © Nicholas Bailey

‘The Myth of Sisyphus’ which seemed particularly apt. As a sculptor the intense physicality of Sisyphus’s unrelenting toil to absolutely no end was such a bittersweet image, I had to investigate it further. Most notably I recall the line: “[ ] …..his hatred of death, and his passion for life won him the unspeakable penalty in which the whole being is exerted toward accomplishing nothing”. The sentence carries such a weight, something I wanted to try to embody. 

I had also just come across the work of Nick Bailey, a sculptor recently graduated from Wimbledon College of Art, whose work seemed to articulate this impotence and disappointment so well. From there I recruited the other artists, using the imagery of the Myth of Sisyphus as a springboard.

CP: Could you describe in detail how each of the artists respond to the Greek mythology of Sisyphus? 


RP: Pleasantly surprised by the breath of interpretation the artists presented in relation to the myth, I came to view the notion of the absurd in a new light. But also how relevant they all believed the myth to be at this point time, the commitment and depth each artist had invested in their works and research was evident.

Starting with Nick Bailey, who was already dealing with a realm of mild disappointment and temptation in his work. However I should highlight the distinction between the tension in works like ‘magic missile’ where we are presented with the promise of release and the utter impotence of works like ‘The End and the Finish’ which seemed more appropriate in this context. Bailey’s works presented me with the biggest challenge editorially.

‘Life Pencil’ © Alexander Bates

My interest in Alexander Bates’ practice was his recent investigations into what defines something as an artwork. Rooted in previous laborious and repetitive works (‘No chewing in class’) and his rebelling what he identifies as a ‘very human compulsion to create order out of disorder’. Interestingly Camus purports that the absurd lies in the conflict between what we want (meaning/reasons) and what we are supplied with (formless chaos). Bates’ work ‘The Life of a Pencil’ is a drawing of a pencil, made using a pencil until the pencil runs out: A succinctly pointless, labour intensive and humourous work to the tune of some 60 metres. 

Jim Bond’s kinetic work lends itself particularly well to the theme. The piece he is showing ‘Dust’ was made a couple of years ago and Bond presented it for Sisyphus. Bond uses the human condition as a springboard for his mechanical works, reductive and subtly humourous these works highlight the circular nature of the everyday. The disparity between the mechanical aesthetic and very human content of the work seems particularly relevant here.

‘Dust’ © Jim Bond

Rodney Dee‘s interest in Sisyphus lies in the perpetual nature of the act in relation to some higher purpose: “For wherein most rituals offer the allusion of transcendence; Sisyphus’ own efforts at pushing the rock are a testament to his absurdity – continually reinforced with every failed attempt. As a result his description as an ‘absurd hero’ is well deserved, for whilst he never reaches the apex of the hill, he is never fully released from the cycle either and therein lies the opportunity to try again”. Dee refers to the fabled architect Daedalus in his video work in which the story underpins mans innate desire to escape from the human condition whilst elevating himself to a celestial vantage point.  

‘Continuous Space’ © Joo Hee Hwang

 ‘Continuous Space’ © Joo Hee Hwang

Joo Hee Hwang’s questioning of the idea of territory results from personal experience of finding herself in unfamiliar surrounds. She explores what she terms as ‘subjectivity of space’ through her vast sculptural installations. Hwang’s specific interest in the myth lies in the notion of a world within a world, the realities we create for ourselves. For Sisyphus, the mountain became a world within itself, a new reality. 

Matthew Kay’s work ‘After This all has Passed’ was a result of Kay’s resistance to the idea of futility and nihilism in relation to the myth of Sisyphus. “What may appear to be a blank screen is in fact animated from hundreds of laboriously made black felt tip drawings. Challenging the notion of nihilism, that anything is futile, it questions the existence of impotent art objects or an empty gesture; are there really such things?

My personal interest in the myth lies in the physicality of the task without reward or meaning the action is for it’s own sake and Sisyphus his own master - this is an extension of my interest in the interplay between our physical and conceptual worlds, and that a work of art should strike a balance between the two.  The work ‘Labour the Point (Water Torture)’ is essentially tautologuous, going to unnecessary, repetitive lengths to little conceptual gain.  The work literally outweighs itself. CP: What can we expect from Part 2 of Sisyphus: The Absurd Hero? RP: Originally I split the works of the 12 artists into two parts as there was a huge distinction between:  ‘resistance’ (retained hope in face of absurd) and ‘acceptance’ (almost celebrated futility, labour intensive) works.  I later decided to present a more balanced view of these interpretations within both shows.  For example: presenting Matthew Kay’s resistance of the notion of nihilism alongside Nick Bailey’s casual acceptance of it.  I think in Part II this disparity is more pronounced.  I think there’s a humour about this show.  A device perhaps we employ in the face of the absurd. 'You’ve Carried Your Ashes Now Carry Your Fire’ © Matthew Kay   CP: Would you say that this exhibition is a response to the continual ‘circular’ nature of an artist’s practice? RP: It’s part of it, but more so a feeling of lack of progress or inventiveness in general, that we are recycling ideas.  The circularity of art practice is inevitable, the more you work the more problems you face.  No line of enquiry is ever concluded, it’s about feeding your own curiosity. CP: You recently had a solo show with ‘Squid and Tabernacle’ that was held in a shipping container. What were the considerations and challenges of working site specifically? And how will you and the other artists utilise the space at Core Gallery? RP: Squid and Tabernacle approached me at a good time with the challenge of this space. As a nomadic gallery they select their artists in response to a site, an extremely novel approach to curatorial practice.  Artists should be able to contextualise their practice temporally, geographically and conceptually, this project forced me to do this.  The Hartwell site was literally a hole in the ground when I arrived in April, the sea container empty and ready for me to do as I pleased.   ‘Planning Permission’ Installation View, 2010 © Rachel Price The final installation ‘Planning Permission’ utilised reclaimed materials from the immediate area to recreate ‘unfeasible architectural models’ by means of both reflecting; the state of flux of the area, but also the boundaries we should push when re-thinking our urban environment.  As part of the installation I tipped the container at an angle and filled a corner with concrete as to utilise the maximum potential of the space, something I never could have achieved in a gallery.  The work of projects like Squid & Tabernacle that get contemporary art out in the public realm are integral in rethinking the way we present and view art. In terms of Core, there’s an energy which I think comes from being slap bang in the middle of two rows of studios.  The shows I’ve seen there so far have had a painting bias, but I relish a challenge to rethink the established conventions of a space. CP: As an ‘artist working curatorially’ can you tell us how the collaborative process of working with the artists is enhanced? Do you feel that by working collectively in this way provides the artists with a greater autonomy? RP: As an artist my concerns aren’t going to be that far detached from any other artist working now, so to provide a platform to voice those concerns is important.  For instance I was struck by the response I received for my call for artists for Sisyphus, what I believed to be a fairly specific line of enquiry within my own practice was actually reflecting the feeling of quite a few artists at this time. I think I decided to approach other artists with opportunities to show in response to quite restrictive themes to force the reassessment of the relevance of our practice.  Something I think curators are failing to provide at the moment.  Moreover because of the dire economic climate, especially with the further cuts to arts funding, the stance of individual artists and institutions can go one of two ways: The individual artist tries to make their practice more financially viable and ‘plays it safe’ or will look for ways of independently funding curatorial projects, free of the constraints of funding applications will have uncensored reign over their content, and that’s quite exciting. CP: Previously you curated an exhibition at Lewisham Arthouse titled ‘Skinflint’.  The artists deliberately used ‘lo-fi materials’ at a time where there was a ‘trend for an outlandish decadence in approaches to art-making’. This exhibition seemed to be a reaction to consumerism & the art market, but also highlighted a change in how we consider art-making.  Can you talk about arts political potential through exhibition making? Installation View ‘Skinflint’ 2009 © Rachel Price RP: For me it was completely reactionary, I do believe it was the revelation of Damien Hirst’s diamond encrusted skull in the middle of an economic downturn that did it for me.  To this day I still can’t understand where he was coming from with that work.  So it was not so much about the dire situation of the economy at large more so the role of the artist in reaction to it.  Hirst was case in point.  For me the role of an artist is as an inventor, and when means are restricted we are forced to invent, to rethink.  The artists I included in this show were artists I admired for their unique utilisation of materials. Exhibition View: SkinFlint, 2009 © Ralph Dorey In addition I think the work of an artist is always inextricably linked to the environment it is being made in, either consciously or unconsciously.  The job of the curator is to pick up on these trends artist to artist and make them relevant to the now.  Individual artists tend to be so engrossed in their practice that they don’t see the immediate relevance or urgency of the work they are making.  Exhibition making, in turn, is an excellent platform for the ‘feel’ of a time to be projected back out into the public sphere. CP: What are you currently working on within your practice? And what is important to you as sculptor? ‘Nervous Wreck 002’ 2010 © Rachel Price RP: My work on Sisyphus has been very research heavy, and has lead me down some disparate lines of enquiry.  I continue to research the absurd but am also very interested in the nature of creativity itself in psychological enquiry, namely the work of Mendick who identified the creative object as ‘the union of two distinct and disparate nodes’. In this respect the work of comedians like Stewert Lee and Mitch Hedberg are as important as any fine artist.  I am taking this idea quite literally in my studio investigations and applying it to my image/form studies.  As a sculptor this element of experimentation is hugely important, both in material and conceptual investigations.  I’m concerned that sculpture is becoming too language dependent, that the role of instinct and material investigation is becoming obsolete. A balance between head and body is important.   I recently revisited the work of Hermann Obrist at the Leeds institute and remember thinking ‘this is scupture’. Obrist invented form, new ways of negotiating and viewing our physical world – that is what a sculptor should do.  The dance between abstraction and representation, somewhere between physical truth and subjective experience, but made with an empathy for the human condition.   ‘Delusions of Grandeur’ 2006 © Rachel Price A sculptor should favour experience over representation, this is particularly relevant now in the digital age and presents all sculptors with a dilemma.  I myself am a self confessed luddite and worry about the implications of over over-reliance on images and digital reproduction and how it will effect learning and progress, especially at a developmental level in children. CP: You reach new possibilities within your work by your liberal use of materials. Can you talk about how your choice of materials adds to the physicality of form and to the conceptual narrative? ‘Sweet Enough’ © Rachel Price RP: I use a lot of reclaimed materials that tend to be laden with their own preconceptions and assumed uses.  I find it interesting how materials are often assigned a gender as a result of the above.  In addition I find images hugely seductive, but misleading, in pairing image with form I attempt to highlight the disparity between representation and the reality of the physical world. There’s a lot of destruction in the process – bending, impaling, snapping, and this is hugely important in the way I approach and rethink the use of materials.  As I’ve mentioned before, the physical presence of the work should serve as a tool to affirm the conceptual narrative.  They should be interdependent.  CP: Do you have any forthcoming projects / news to divulge? RP: ‘Sisyphus: part deux’ is in the offing.  At the moment my curatorial projects are taking precedence over my own studio practice.  I’m also working on a research proposal for the upcoming residencies at the Henry Moore Institute in Leeds. CP: You are based at ASC studios in New Cross, situated within a growing community of artists. How important has this been to you in the development within your work as both a curator and an artist? RP: The New Cross/ Deptford areas are a great place to be for an artist.  I find the freedom of the artist led studios and galleries highly conducive to an experimental and risk taking approach as an artist and curator, projects like Deptford X reflect the needs of the artist but are also sensitive to the area in which the art is shown.  Conversely I also think that it is important, in a growing community of artists, not to become isolated from movements in the rest of London and the UK, and indeed internationally - that a dialogue should be encouraged both within the community and with the wider sphere. CP: Thank you Rachel Price! For more information, please visit: www.rachelpricesculpture.co.uk

Interview with Patrick Morrissey & Hanz

It is a pleasure to interview Patrick Morrissey and Clive Hancock (Hanz). In this interview I find out about the forthcoming show ‘Monochrome Set’ at Core gallery. Which is a collaborative project between Patrick, Hanz and ceramicist Leyla Folwell. The title of this show is intended to bind the works together under a theme which may evoke any number of associations with Pop culture and kinetiscism.

'Two People in a Room' 2010 © Patrick Morrissey

Morrissey’s work represents a development of ideas initiated whilst taking his degree at Goldsmiths College. Morrissey utilizes geometric and numeric systems to create a visual field or ground which contradicts and simultaneously informs the audience’s perception of each piece. 
 

Hanz has evolved his method as an outsider artist. He started to produce art in the late 1970s, very much influenced by the punk art and music scene. He uses ‘discarded’ material in his work.

September 2010  >>

CP: Can you tell us about your forthcoming exhibition ‘Monochrome Set’ at Core Gallery?

Patrick: Hanz did a piece of work some years ago; unusually for him it was in black and white instead of his highly colourful boxes.

Hanz: It was my Millennium box, obviously done in the year 2000 and is shown here in the ‘Monochrome Set’.

Patrick: So we decided at that time to create black and white work at some point for a future exhibition. When Leyla joined Cor Blimey Arts, we both found something about her strong sculptural forms that appealed to us. We invited her to contribute some of her work to ‘Monochrome Set’, we were pleased that she accepted and she produced the work you see before you now.

CP: Given the title, how do you selectively choose colour within your works?

Patrick: For ‘Monochrome Set’ the choice was easy, all the emphasis has been placed on the structures / language of the pieces. I usually work with colours that vibrate. 

Hanz: ‘Monochrome Set’ has given me the freedom to experiment with the language of my work also. In my colour boxes I choose a set of colours from the environment around me, then use a numerical system to place them on the tubes and cones.

Patrick: This is our first exhibition where we have created a body of work with a specific theme allowing us to go back to the very basics of our constructivist / concrete work and has re-affirmed our original direction.

Millenium Box,  2000 19"' x 19" © Hanz

CP: Hanz and Patrick, you have shared a studio space together since 2008. Can you tell us how your work has developed? How important is the studio practice.

Patrick: We have worked and developed in parallel for many years but since sharing a studio we have been very free with our ideas. We are both happy to have an open dialogue concerning our work and the creative processes involved

Hanz: We both work in very different media and can share a way of working in the studio but the work still retains its individuality. The work always seems to hang well together.

Patrick: Studio practice is all everything is about the work.

CP: What artists are you inspired by?

Patrick: Jose Patricio, Kenneth Martin, Francois Morellet, Sol Le Witt, Bridget Riley.

Hanz: Victor Vasarely. Mathew Frere-Smith, Fernand Leger.

Howeldrehevel, 8"  x 8 "  © Hanz

CP: Hanz, can you tell us how your abstracted relief constructions are formed and the materials you use?

Hanz: I use 1” long pieces of electrical conduit and the cones are made of paper, in my random boxes anything goes.

CP: Why do you choose discarded materials?

Hanz: Discarded materials / found objects can be used to great effect; the colours and textures can create amazing patterns, initially I created collages using packaging and cut up magazines, it was very anarchic. I found an off cut of conduit and started to place textures and colours in the tube and the work just seemed to develop from there. Patrick encouraged me to look at the constructivist’s work; which was a revelation to me. In my random boxes there is still an element of that anarchy but the tubes contain and order it.

Exhibition view at Nolia’s gallery 2010

CP: Patrick, you utilise geometric and numeric systems to create a visual field. Can you describe this process and how do you begin to create your paintings?

Pernambuco, 2009, Acylic on canvas, 4" x 4"  © Patrick Morrissey

Patrick: I usually prepare for a piece of work by having an idea of a form literally in my ‘minds eye’. I try this out on paper, producing and working through several drawings until I feel I have achieved my original intention. The ideas are fundamentally instinctive, but are reigned in or structured according to the geometric / numeric development of each piece. All the work has a developmental progression contained within a framework, but there can be deliberate variation or adjustment; which will contradict the progressive order of the elements concerned. The results, by the paintings very nature, will be to automatically create a field or mid-ground between it and the viewer, so that perspective becomes irrelevant and the relationship (hopefully) between work and viewer will be totally direct or physiological, i.e., the experience of looking will become the initial reaction, perhaps followed by associations within the viewer’s own experience.

CP: How do you both incorporate kinetic techniques within your art?

Patrick: The kinetic aspect of the work is a bi-product of the process.

Hanz: As my work has a depth to it, all of the surfaces cannot be seen at the same time. As the viewer interacts with the work its innate qualities are revealed.


CP: Do you have any forthcoming projects / news to divulge?

Patrick: We have both started a series of new works and are currently in negotiation with other established artists in the U.S.A, Europe and London with a view to holding a group exhibition in the New Year.

 

CP: Thank you very much!

Interview with James Wright

It is a pleasure to interview James Wright a selected artist in Core Gallery’s Open Exhibition for Deptford X 2010. Wright is one of Eighteen artists who were selected from an outstanding pool of entries from across the world by Graham Crowley, one of the UK’s most distinguished living painters, Matt Roberts of Matt Roberts Art and Kate Jones, Marketing Director of John Jones.

The Shrouding, 2009

Wright graduated from the Royal College of Art. His work uses a vocabulary of symbols and motifs, often from historical painting but many of his own making, to denote the themes of original works which the artist revisits. James Wright was singled out by Kay Saatchi in the 2008 Selfridges Art Exhibition: 'Anticipation' as well as Jerwood painting and drawing prizes as well as being shortlisted for John Moores 25. James recently completed a residency at Gloucester Cathedral, culminating in two solo shows: ‘As It Was In the Beginning’ and ‘Memento Mori’.

I speak to Wright to find out about; his motivations for applying to the Open Competition 2010, the work he submitted, how significant the residency at Gloucester Cathedral was in the development of his work and the possibilities of his current practice.

September 2010     >>

 

CP: What attracted you to apply to the Core Gallery’s Open submission Competition at Deptford X 2010? 

JW: I was excited by Mark Titchner’s statement of intent and felt that my work bore a direct relationship. This along with wanting to be part of a much larger exhibition is what attracted me to apply. I also thought that the calibre of the selectors helped to ensure an exciting and stimulating show. 

The Sacrifice, 2009

CP: Can you tell us about the work that you submitted? 

JW: I submitted three drawing’s that each appropriate particular works from the annals of art history. The Sacrifice traces the composition of Caravaggio’s Crucifixion of St Peter, The Shrouding is informed by the work of Gerard David and his lamentation paintings in particular, and The Entombment is after Rogier Van Der Weyden’s The Entombment of Christ. Each drawing displays a reflected image which, along with the subject, reminds us of the fragility of life and the subsequent passing of time. 

CP: Your work is informed by religious iconography. How significant was the artist in residence program at Gloucester Cathedral in the development of your work? 

JW: For some time now, works of art from the Early Renaissance, with their particular idiosyncrasies and peculiar inaccuracies have informed my practice. The residency at Gloucester Cathedral afforded me the time to fully immerse myself within the work. I think that people naturally assume that I am religious person, but that is not the case, and it is certainly not a pre-requisite of the residency program. The fact that my work often addresses Christian beliefs, visualised in an apparent secular narrative, allowed for interesting dialogues to evolve. Attending the cathedrals many services certainly informed my practice and made for a stimulating and thought provoking period of research and study, much of which I continues to feel. 

The Burial, 2010, Acrylic on oak, 30 x 21 cm

CP: Your painting technique is highly informed by traditional methods used by artists from High Renaissance and Flemish schools. Could you describe the techniques you employ? 

JW: A lot of it is actually quite dumb. Simple techniques employed to give believable, realistic painterly and visual effects. What may appear at first to be laboured and heavily worked, can be born from relatively simple means. The biggest challenge often comes from trying to get the paint to do something that it inherently does not want to do.

CP: What artists are you inspired by? 

JW: It is difficult to say. I am certainly inspired by many artists work and quite often a postcard hanging on my studio wall will provide a ‘light bulb’ moment. I think that somewhat unsurprisingly, most people would assume that I am inspired by works of art and artists whose practice is close to my own. However, this is not always the case. Sure, I like to see how certain artists achieve a particular painterly and visual language, but this is usually so that I can employ similar methods within my own work, I’m a kind of magpie in that respect. But, in a contemporary context, I really enjoy seeing works by Nicholas Byrne, Ryan Mosley and Paul Housley for example, and it’s also fair to say that I have a real soft spot for the work of Jane Harris. 

CP: Your paintings are loaded with symbols and motifs that revisit art painting history. By situating the contemporary with the historic, how has this transformed these urban landscapes? 

JW: Much of my work remains esoteric and certainly relies on a knowledge of art history and symbolism. The urban landscape, and more definitively the gutter subject that I choose to represent, are simply my props, my models and a source of continuous inspiration. I’ve grown up and lived in and around cities and large towns all my life, and the familiarity of these scenes helps inform the narrative. I think that at its heart, there is something really curious about introducing low-fi subjects to high-art supports on a scale usually preserved for icon or miniature type works.

The Waster, 2010, Acrylic on oak, 30 x 21 cm

CP: The viewer is presented with intimate, vignette shaped paintings that have been described in a recent article on the BBC as “small and jewel-like”. Is this a way of re-attaching sentiment back to these unwanted and abandoned landscapes? 

The Tomb, 2010, Acrylic on canvas, 30 x 21cm

JW: It is certainly about giving life to objects, and in many circumstances a new or even hidden life. The vignette aids this transformative process because of its relationship to portraiture and allows the viewer to attach human attributes to otherwise inanimate objects. The paintings themselves are actually rectangular in format and the vignette is archived by a simple framing device that has it origins in the generic school photograph with it faux gilded cardboard oval mount. Much of the work, because of it relationship to religion, has sentiment attached to it that is subsequently thrust upon the depicted object. 

CP: Do you have any forthcoming projects or news to divulge? 

JW: I do, I am planning an exhibition in a major public space outside of London, but it is perhaps too early to divulge in greater detail. 

CP: Thank you very much, James Wright.

Interview with Graham Crowley

It is a pleasure to interview Graham Crowley, one of the most distinguished living painters in the UK today. Born in 1950, Graham Crowley studied at St. Martin’s School of Art London 1968-72 and Royal College of Art London 1972-75, and has held significant teaching posts including Professor of Painting at the RCA (1998-2006).

GC on a 1950 Vincent | pictured on the TT Course (Isle of Mann) | 2007

His paintings span a vast variance in style from the appropriationist art of the 70s to his brilliantly luminous landscapes of the present day, tracking a fundamental narrative with political, cultural and personal histories within them.

Crowley is one of the guest judges for the forthcoming ‘Open Competition at Core Gallery for Deptford X 2010’, where eighteen artists have been selected from an outstanding pool of entries from across the world. I speak to him to find out; his views on the education system, ‘modern art’ and what it was like to be a student in the revolutionary 60’s.

September 2010 >>

CP: How did you and the other judges arrive at a selection for Core Gallery's Deptford X 2010 Open Competition?

GC: I can’t speak for the other judges, but If you’re asking me how I chose work. I chose work by my assessment of it’s intentions, it’s sense of context, execution and insight. I did not choose it because I liked it. As I’ve come to understand that I don’t like art. I think of painting as a discourse and not merely as an activity, and I don’t regard it as shopping, either.

Selected Artists | Open submission competition for Deptford X | 2010

CP: What is the significance of 'independent' competitions such as the Core Gallery's Open Competition?

GC: Independent competitions are vital in providing a platform for work that isn’t being shown by commercial or public galleries. This becomes more important as the market seems to exert an increasing influence on public galleries. Peer group approval isn’t the same thing as commodification. I’ve said elsewhere that I think projects like The John Moores/Liverpool Exhibition provide a more comprehensive survey of British painting than just about anything else.

CP: What will you take into consideration when curating the show for ‘Core Gallery’s Deptford X 2010 Competition’?

GC: Bearing in mind that I’ll be one of 3 or 4 people involved in the curating. My immediate response is the audience. I’ll also attempt to hang the work in way that creates correspondence and dialogue between works. I’m also in the (now familiar, but problematic) position of not having (yet) seen the 18 finalists, except as digital images. I’m fully aware of the shortcomings of this method of selection. But this project and others like it wouldn’t have seen the light of day, as the cost of insurance, handling, transport and warehousing would have been prohibitive.

CP: In April 2008 you had a letter published in Art Monthly ‘Can’t get No Satisfaction’ where you expressed concerns about the state of art education in London. You stated ‘We now certificate, rather than educate’. How can the focus of ‘educating’ be restored?

GC: There’s no easy fix, and I suggest anybody who hasn’t already read my letter in the April 2008 edition of Art Monthly and (some of) the very extensive correspondence it provoked, to do so. Also view – ‘Angry students meet Sandra Kemp’ on You Tube. But, I suggest we go back to the ‘drawing board’. I come at this problem as a parent, a tax payer, an ex-academic (I was Professor of Painting at the RCA 1998-2006) and a painter.

Art schools should never have become universities. The primary reason that they became universities was political. We need a serious rethink. The imposition of what is called Taylorism (an American form of management efficiency) in higher education has been a disaster. It is blind to the social value of education. It acknowledges only certification. At what is currently foundation and undergraduate level I think one answer would be to look at some kind of re-invented ‘atelier’ model. A studio based ‘apprenticeship’ that promotes theory through practice, taught by practicing artists. I’m not suggesting we maintain the rather discredited teaching methods of approval and emulation. I imagine this to take place in artists’ studios or collectives, rather like The Core studios or similar.

Spider with Mushroom Soup | 1982 | Oil on canvas |122 x 92 cm

CP: You studied at St. Martin’s School of Art, in 1968 a time where radical thinking and innovation was emerging. Can you tell us about your experience as a student then?

GC: Yes. I was caught up in a ‘cultural revolution’. The driving force behind the education that I received was an inexhaustible curiosity about life and society, fueled by scepticism and affirmed by dissent.

To ask intelligent questions, requires an education. That was why the Tories abolished the ILEA, (Inner London Education Authority). They couldn’t bear the idea of quality mass education. That’s why, still today, the police

behave in an intolerant, violent and abusive manner when confronted by well organised and legitimate demonstrators, whether they be trade unionists or environmentalists.

Head (2) | 1977 | Acrylic on canvas |153 x 92 cm

Education is seen by the establishment as enabling social unrest. So now the state has a monopoly; selling useless pieces of paper at an exorbitant price and calling them degrees. Education is a human right not a commodity.

As a post-graduate I had to deal with the crisis in modernism. I realised that the two principal doctrines of modernism; originality and self expression, were now hollow rhetoric.

The ‘dominant discourse’ was conceptualism. As a student at St Martins I got involved in performance and wrote ‘plays about plays’. But I’d always had this love-hate relationship with painting. So when painting became almost demonised in the early 1970’s; I thought “That’s for me”. I had now learnt not to seek approval. As a painter I cherish the legacy of a ‘conceptual’ education. My generation received, what some regard as the apotheosis of a ‘liberal education’.

CP: What are you currently working on within your practice?

GC: I’ve recently moved back to London. Since I left the RCA in 2006 I’ve been living and working in West Cork. Some years ago I learnt that the artist I ‘wanted’ to be was not the same as the artist I ‘needed’ to be. So now I make paintings about where I am, what I think, what I’ve read and most importantly what I’ve seen. Seeing is a very underrated activity.

Blue Drift |2010 | oil on canvas | 114 x 137 cm

I’m currently making landscape paintings that I regard as synthetic. Synthetic paintings exist simultaneously as object (the thing itself) and illusion (window on the world); the legacy of Manet.

My paintings also refer to modernist painting, particularly cubism and early American modernists like Stuart Davis. I’m becoming more concerned with illusion and apprehension. I want to make paintings that acknowledge both the human and the historic.

Red Drift 3 |2010 | oil on canvas | 114 x 137 cm

I’m also very suspicious of the academic orthodoxy that insists on contemporary landscape painting being acceptable providing it’s uncanny, sublime or abject. I want to make landscapes that celebrate sight and life, before I die.

There are some images of recent paintings on my website; www.GrahamCrowley.com

CP: What is so captivating about your work is your intense involvement and assurance with the medium of paint. Could you describe some of the techniques you employ?

Farm on the Sheep's Head  |1998 | oil on canvas | 178 x 152 cm

GC: Yes. I abhor the convention of the artist as slacker convention – the ‘I meant it to be like that’ tendency. Whilst I was at the RCA I abandoned acrylics and started to use oil paint. At that point I had no option, but to learn how to paint. This doesn’t sound that remarkable until you realise that I spent 7 years in full-time higher education and not one of my tutors knew how to teach students painting as a skill. As a student one dared not to ask, for fear of being regarded as reactionary, or worse.The situation is no better today. The teaching of painting technique still has the stigma of the amateur. The ‘romantic’ notion of the artist as ‘free spirit’ staggers on.

Flower Arranging (6) | 1998 | Oil on canvas |178 x 152 cm

Over the last 30 years I’ve employed a variety of methods including grisaille, impasto but most importantly glazing. Glazing has shown me why colours such as Payne’s Gray, Davy’s Gray, Indian Yellow, Transparent Golden Ochre and Rose Dore exist. Glazing is to painting what ‘ambient’ is to music. I’ve always been fascinated in ‘how things work’. I think it’s my ‘diet’ of Meccano, The Eagle and The Boys’ Own Paper in the 1950’s and 60’s.

I have the sensibility of a * ‘rodder’ rather than a poet. I think contemporary practice is becoming increasingly located in the vernacular. It’s important to study every aspect of painting, if only because knowledge presents choice; historical, theoretical and practical. I also consider carefully, the composition of my paintings, as every aspect of a painting carries meaning.

Flower Arranging (1) | 1988/92 | Oil on canvas |178 x 152 cm

* rodder - as in Hot Rod. Someone immersed in the aesthetics of custom car and bike culture. Someone who values the vernacular. See David Hickey ‘Air Guitar – Essays on Art & Democracy’ and the work of Ed ‘Big Daddy’ Roth. Also check out Matthew Crawford’s ‘The Case for Working with Your Hands or Why Office Work is Bad for Us and Fixing Things Feels Good.’

CP: In your most recent works, do you feel you have revitalised landscape painting through your use of colour?

GC: Yes

CP: Do you have any forthcoming projects or news to divulge?

GC: I’m currently in a group show of past John Moores Prizewinners in Korea. I have a one man show at Churchill College in March next year and I’ll be giving a lecture about my painting whilst the exhibition is on. I’ve plans for a graphic project; a mix of artist’s book and a semi-fictionalised graphic autobiography. (About 13 years ago I collaborated with Stuart Hood and Richard Appignanesi on a graphic book about the Marquis de Sade). I’m also starting work on some new paintings about South London with reference to The Ash Can School. For some years now, I’ve been fascinated by The Ash Can School (Sloan, Davis, Luks, etc) and their leftist publication The Masses. They were written out of American art history during the McCarthy years; Post-Second World War. They remain almost unknown in Europe and the UK. I’ve also been influenced by the Canadian David Milne.

CP: In a society where ‘modern art’ is increasingly institutionalized and administered, how important are places such as Deptford that have a growing community of artists?

GC: Vital. In the current dismal climate. It's clearly a cause for celebration and a matter of great pride. Here's something that reflects the 'health' and vibrancy of a community. Its projects like this that define Deptford.

It's a matter of recorded fact that 'modern art' has been institutionalised, commodified and is about as edgy as a j-cloth. It should come as no surprise that the rhetoric of modernism has found its place in tabloid journalism.

Contemporary art is a different matter. It's a moveable feast - it's what's happening now, by definition. Contemporary art doesn‟t even look like „Modern art‟. Modern art is a manifestation of an historical movement that has long been in decline. It doesn't speak to me any longer. It has always been an instrument of capital, celebrity and the media. Only now it's also an instrument of 'pikey'* culture. As far as I'm concerned Sky, The Daily Mail (et al), Heat, Simon Cowell and Charles Saatchi can have it. Popular culture was once a celebration of working class creativity. It's now a tool of oppression, and no amount of irony can redeem it. 

*pikey. Once used as a derogatory term to describe Irish itinerants. But now a derogatory term to describe the aspirations of the ignorant, materialistic wealthy and the ignorant, materialistic poor, which are the same.

CP: Thank you Graham Crowley, it has been a fascinating interview!