'Reporting Back' From Brum: Hurvin Anderson & Nina Könnemann At Ikon.

Hurvin Anderson, 'Country Club: Chicken Wire', 2008 & 'Untitled (Livingstone Road)', 2000

Approximately a year ago, around the time I participated in the ‘If A Picture Paints A Thousand Words…’ group exhibition, it felt like Birmingham was becoming a focus for some of my more interesting experiences and activities.  I hadn’t visited the city properly for several years and was interested to be exploring it once more and sampling the various attractions, cultural and otherwise, that it offers.  Attempts to revisit shortly after for photographic expeditions were stymied by a combination of foul weather and increasing difficulties with my dodgy old legs.  However, as 2013 has progressed, (and partly thanks to my physiotherapist), I’ve been able to head west increasingly, taking in exhibitions, numerous sites of photographic or psychogeographic interest and commencing a methodical exploration of Brum’s transport infrastructure in the process, (as detailed in various posts).

Ikon Gallery, Birmingham, October 2013

I found myself there yet again with friends the other weekend and, although Birmingham is only a stone’s throw from our own towns, we decided to make an indulgent weekend of it, treating ourselves to hotel rooms, extravagant breakfasts and the chance to escape the humdrum routine for a couple of days.  Many folk make Brum the butt of dismissive humour but it offers much to the visitor, and is still Britain’s second city in my view.  It’s much easier to negotiate (and afford), than London, is far more welcoming, and has a lot less ‘side’ generally.  It may not be elegant or quaint but isn’t without grandeur and actually provides a wide variety of moods and visual experiences that engage me far more than traditional notions of ‘beauty’ or extravagance anyway.

Despite the bleak weather, we spent a couple of very enjoyable days just hanging out and off duty.  The real highlight for me was a visit to the Ikon Gallery to view Hurvin Anderson’s exhibition of paintings entitled ‘Reporting Back’.  I had a hunch this would be a good one but in the event, it exceeded all expectations; taking its place on a short roster of really impressive shows I’ve seen in recent months.  Having viewed it on the Saturday, I returned the following morning to reflect further on the paintings.

Hurvin Anderson, 'Northern Range', 2010 & 'Lower Lake', 2005

Anderson’s origins lie in Birmingham’s Jamaican community, (he is British by birth), although he has acquired an international reputation as a painter since leaving the Royal College of Art in 1998.  He refutes further the wearisome notion that painting is dead, (still being peddled in some quarters), and also the convention that Black art must be clichéd, pigeonholed or superficially ‘right on’.  His work shows a powerful commitment to, and facility with, the medium of paint, but played out with due reference to the context of photographic and appropriated imagery in which we all now float.  Whilst rooted in the tradition, Anderson’s painting feels completely relevant to now.

Hurvin Anderson, 'Untitled (Red Flags)', & 'Miss Sylvia', Both 2004

Peter Doig, 'Pelican', Oil On Canvas, 2004

I now realise that the art that captivates me most always carries an initial visual/ expressive punch, followed by a slower burn of reflection on the possible themes or theoretical frameworks within it.  I want my mind to be stimulated but never to the exclusion of my senses being seduced.  It’s why I remain wedded to painting, (or some hybrid of it), and why I responded to this exhibition immediately I walked through the door.  The most obvious impression was of the similarities between Anderson’s painting and that of Peter Doig.  Both have a remarkable facility with paint and employ abstract inventiveness within an essentially representational framework, playing freely with the formal elements of picture making.  There is also an original take on the idea of the tropical in both artists’ work.  Anderson is more solemn and rather less theatrical in his approach however, and presents a vision that is very much his own.  My good friend Suzie quite rightly saw correspondences with Hockney and Hopper, whilst I was also reminded of Michael Andrews (a perennial favourite) and the Euston Road tradition in general.  One might even draw some comparisons with Ewan Uglow.    However, Anderson never fetishises the nailing down of an objectivised image in the way that Uglow and the followers of Coldstream did.  ‘A Painter’s Painter’ is a hackneyed label to apply to any artist, and yet…

Hurvin Anderson, 'Miss Sylvia' & 'Imperial', Both 2004

Michael Andrews, 'Good And Bad At Games', Screen Print & Oil On Canvas, 1964-68

The Artist draws fully upon the Afro Caribbean experience, but does so in ways that manage to be particular and personal but also universally human.  Finding subject matter in both his native Birmingham and The West Indies, he repeatedly explores his sense of displacement and disquiet at never quite belonging in a particular place.  This must surely be a powerful theme for any diaspora, and not least for one with a shared memory of the multiple displacements of slavery, colonialism, independence and subsequent migration to these shores.  Yet, as a middle class white man, I gained just as much emotionally and intellectually from these works and they reflect a kind of melancholy loss, alienation or recourse to memory that is easily translatable into any culture.  They may speak eloquently of ‘Black Experience’, (which is not for me to judge), but encapsulate wider Human experience too.  As we viewed the paintings, we decided they reflect the thoughts and feelings of an individual above all, and that there is nothing as limiting or uncreative as a standard account for any culture.

Hurvin Anderson, 'Untitled (Red Flags)', 2004, 'Northern Range',  2010 & 'Lower Lake', 2005

The locations Anderson depicts are repeatedly imbued with disappointment or melancholy and of access denied or promise unfulfilled.  It is achieved most overtly in his use of visual barriers, parallel to the picture plane, through which various scenes are viewed.  These include fences, gates and decorative security screens, (typical of the West Indies), and play both strong pictorial and powerful psychological roles.  Elsewhere, it is evoked more obliquely through images that subvert the illusions of tropical or colonial paradises and Victorian Utopianism, or depict figures rendered anonymous within a newfound context.  The latter category includes blank faced ‘portraits’ of his sister and nephew, wrapped against the cold in their Canadian home, having undergone (we assume) yet further displacement.

Hurvin Anderson, 'Peter's IV (Pioneer)', 'Peter's II', & 'Peter's III", All 2007

One of the upstairs galleries at Ikon was dedicated to several of Anderson’s ‘Peter’s’ series of canvases, with which he essentially made his name.  Sharing the same basic format, but sitting at different points on the figuration/abstraction continuum, they are a powerful exploration of the psychologically significant location of the Afro Caribbean barbershop (of an implied back-room variety it seems here).  With or without a figure in the chair, these paintings are primarily about a specific arena for thoughts, feelings and memories and somewhere that a marginalized community might enjoy a coming together in safe surroundings.  They seem imbued with the stories and conversations that have unfolded within the space, whilst being formally and pictorially inventive as visual images.

Hurvin Anderson, 'Peter's: Sitters II', 2009 & 'Peter's IV (Pioneer)', 2007

At the risk of yet another industrial length post, mention should also be made of German artist, Nina Könnemann’s delightful video piece ‘Bann’ playing in the Ikon’s Tower Room.  It comprises candid glimpses of smartly dressed smokers grabbing a crafty fag in various corners, doorways and dingy alcoves within the City of London.  Whilst some are shown in the open, others reveal their surreptitious presence only through puffs of smoke, disembodied hands, (complete with cigarettes), reflections or just the discarded butts that remain after their passing.

Nina Könnemann, 'Bann', Video, 2012

Könnemann captures the fluctuating subculture that exists all around us at any hour since the widespread indoor smoking ban took effect and the importance of those snatched private, if damaging, moments in relieving the pressure of modern urban life.  It is poetic, ritualistic and not without humour, (for instance one subject’s double take on spotting her camera or the gloomy woman furtively chaining a second tab in the shadows).  It is also an atmospheric elegy to the grey and geometric corporate world of concrete, marble, steel and glass that these City workers inhabit.  Their rhythmic exhalations of smoke just seem to add to the tarnished silvery miasma in which they exist.

Nina Könnemann, 'Bann', Video, 2012

Leaving Ikon via its well stocked bookshop, I picked up a copy of the ‘Reporting Back’ catalogue as well as books on the work of Beat Streuli and Christiane Baumgartner.  The last two are both artists who caught my eye in the ‘Metropolis: Reflections On The Modern City’ exhibition at Birmingham’s Gas Hall earlier in the year.  It just went to emphasise that many of my most inspiring and enjoyable experiences over the last year have occurred in Brummagem.

Apologies; I Fear I Have Committed A 'Selfie'.

Hurvin Anderson’s exhibition, ‘Reporting Back’, and Nina Könnemann’s video, ‘Bann’, continue at Ikon Gallery, Oozells Square, Brindley Place, Birmingham, B1 2HS, until 10 November 2013.  Both are highly recommended.

Navigation 1: Cycle Ride From Digbeth to Gravelly Hill, Birmingham

Great Barr Street Bridge, Grand Union Canal, Digbeth, Birmingham, January 2013

Not long ago, I extolled the virtues of cycling for the urban explorer and paid particular attention to the opportunities it offers to escape the obvious major routes and to experience alternative urban perspectives from the flipside of a city.  An obvious way to access such territory is to drop down onto the towpaths of canal and waterways networks still threading their way through many conurbations, only a few metres away from, (but generally disregarded by), the users of congested roads.  As someone always conscious of his knees, I also appreciate the relatively level terrain they provide.

Grand Union Canal Bridge, Digbeth, Birmingham, January 2013

My friend Dave Weight and I made just such an expedition recently by shoving our bikes and cameras in the back of the car and driving over to Birmingham to begin what I hope may become an ongoing two-wheeled exploration of that city’s waterways.  We’ve both done plenty of this sort of thing in Leicester over the years but Birmingham is famous for the magnitude of its canal network, (insert standard clichéd comparison with Venice, etc.), and offers a wealth of potential new experiences and an escape from the over-familiar.  My photos from the day generally relate to a series of (by now), familiar themes within my artwork and more general thinking about urban environments.  To avoid an even more massive post, I’ll deal with a couple of these specifically in separate bulletins.  This one covers our ride more generally.

Digbeth, Birmingham, August 2013 

We’d already strolled a short stretch of the Grand Union towpath during a photographic walk around the Digbeth area, some months previously, when we also visited the strange world beneath the massive ‘Spaghetti Junction’/Gravelly Hill Road Interchange on Birmingham’s northern perimeter.  Despite the obvious prevalence of elevated carriageways, canals are also a feature of that complex maelstrom of competing routes.  This trip joined those two favourite sites via the Digbeth Branch and Fazeley & Birmingham cuts.  It’s not a massive distance to cycle but took us through a variety of urban landscapes and provided a wealth of sensory stimuli and photographic subject matter.

Digbeth, Birmingham, August 2013

Inevitably, I collected various examples of signage, graffiti and other textual fragments.  Such details are of perpetual fascination to me, both as formal elements and clues to possible meaning, and I remain committed to their incorporation within my artwork.  The same is true of the physical textures of entropy, dilapidation, botched repair and sheer materiality so prevalent within any city, and several examples of all this were obtained in Digbeth before and after our progress along the towpath.  The area remains a rich visual hunting ground being caught in transition between the dereliction of dead industry and the ad-hoc opportunism of more adaptable recent enterprises.  Sprinkled amongst these are various style-conscious flowerings of the current ‘Creative Industries’, (ugh!), but, thankfully, the gentrification of Digbeth still has some way to go.

Digbeth, Birmingham, August 2012

Our waterside ride passed through several zones of the city, each with its own distinct atmosphere and physical characteristics.  I was struck by the contrast between the clinical corporate presentation of certain stretches and the less ordered, but visually far richer, industrial tenor of others.  It seems that the aesthetic rewards of the information and service sectors remain largely virtual and trapped within telecommunications infrastructure.  Further evidence of the processes of transformation was to be found close to Birmingham’s University/Millenium Point quarter where another vast area, punctuated by huge yellow cranes, has been cleared for regeneration.  We detoured here to examine the spectacular dereliction of an ornate Victorian factory but even more poignant to me was the abandoned triangular house overlooking the canal at the junction of Belmont Row and Pitt Street.  Isolated on one corner of the construction zone and prey to the attentions of taggers and vandals, it remains a poignant, strangely dignified relic from a lost tract of the old city that is being hastily reimagined.  It also recalls an era when people lived and worked in the same locales.

Abandoned Canal Side House, Birmingham, August 2013

Diversion & Dereliction: Birmingham, August 2013

Regeneration: Birmingham, August 2013

Derelict Factory:  Birmingham, August 2013.  Photo:  David Weight

We made another brief detour further along our route to photograph three vast Victorian gas storage gantries that have been painted claret and blue, in tribute, (I assume), to Aston Villa FC.  It’s interesting how community pride in a football club has transmogrified into the imposition of corporate sports branding onto the local environment on such a scale.  The surrealism of such gestures strikes me as pretty ludicrous but also strangely enjoyable.

Aston, Birmingham, August 2013

On our journey, the sense of changing mood and palpable atmosphere was particularly powerful at the two points where the canal passed through tunnels and, reviewing my photos, I wish I’d made some attempt to document this.  A particular sense of urban dread pertains to the unlit section beneath the main railway lines running towards Moor Street and New Street stations.  We passed through rapidly, having spotted a couple of figures lurking in the shadows late, and emerged relieved that it was merely the occasion of a cheeky toke.

Junction Of Digbeth Branch And Birmingham & Fazeley Canals, Birmingham, August 2013

In such locations I’m prompted to consider the importance of illumination, acoustics and even smell in contributing to a particular mood or subjective response.  It fuels a, so far largely unfulfilled, desire to extend my practice into other media, (the movement from darkness towards a distant light being an obvious subject better documented by video than static imagery for instance), and emphasises the immersive, multi-sensual experiences afforded the pedestrian or cyclist.  The advisability of carrying valuable electronic equipment into such locations may remain open to question but I guess you can’t plunge into the urban underbelly without also accepting some of its potential dangers.

No Pressure: Birmingham, August 2013

For me, the most obvious theme of our journey was that of different transport and communication routes, of varying status and visibility, intersecting the built environment.  Passing beneath roads, railway lines, footbridges, gas pipelines, and even each other, waterways provide a delicious opportunity to experience the city in reverse and to witness the ‘warts and all’ realities of life and work unfolding behind facades habitually presented to the street. They also represent a descent through time to an archaic industrial transport network now rededicated to less utilitarian use. Whilst not strictly ‘unofficial’ as such, they are obvious magnets for deviants, artists, dreamers and those wanting to snatch a moment or slow the clock.  Relieved of trade and commerce, they now provide conduits for our thoughts and dreams to flow through the modern world unimpeded.

Beneath Gravelly Hill Interchange, Birmingham, 2013

The reality of all this is fully realized at Gravelly Hill, where all routes come together and we paused for refreshment beneath the M6 motorway.  Once again, we delighted in the effects of reflected light on the vast concrete canopy above and the complex sonic environment fluctuating on the underside of brutal modernity.  Many of the photos I took there record the rapid passage of vehicles and the relationship between concrete structures and reflections in standing water.  All around us puddles were regularly punctuated by concentric ripples as drips leached through the overhead concrete after earlier heavy rain.  I also experimented with some scratch video of the undulating canal-surface reflection of a brightly lit Sky TV advertisement.  This was partly in tribute to the work of Christiane Baumgartner that impressed me at the ‘Metropolis: Reflections On The Modern City’ Exhibition in June and a reminder that it really is time I invested in a dedicated video camera.

Beneath Gravelly Hill Interchange, Birmingham, August 2013.
Photo:  David Weight

Beneath Gravelly Hill Interchange, Birmingham, August 2013

It was a great day, full of stimulating thoughts and impressions, and something I hope we can repeat soon.  Certainly, Brum has no shortage of canals for us to explore.

'Metropolis: Reflections On The Modern City'

Although I’ve already mentioned my recent  trip to Birmingham generally, my main purpose was to visit the exhibition, ‘Metropolis’: Reflections On The Modern City’, in The Gas Hall at Birmingham Museum & Art Gallery.  Given the mainly urban focus of my own work, the title alone was a draw, and, in the event, the show proved well worth the visit.

‘Metropolis’ presents various interpretations of urban existence by a selection of international contemporary artists.  It felt just the right size to me, and I enjoyed how it ranges through the reflective and thoughtful to the stylishly spectacular.  It also encompasses a range of media, emphasizing photography and video but still finding space for printmaking, sculpture, installation and painting.  Indeed, one of the real positives for me was the occurrence of translations between media within certain artists’ work, and across the exhibition as a whole.

Miao Xiaochun, 'Orbit', Photographic Print, 2005

Revealingly, I engaged wholeheartedly with several audio-visual pieces, only later noticing the relatively low proportion of painting on display.  So often, Art videos have struck me as a disappointing waste of gallery space, despite the obvious potential of the form.  I can only conclude that, either the medium is maturing with age or my own perception of the relationships between old/new, static/time-based or visual/aural media are evolving.  Certainly, the latter is something I’ve been aware of in recent months so maybe this exhibition came along at just the right time.  It’s also worth noting that, whilst thought provoking, all the work shown retains a strongly sensory bias rather than being overly conceptual.  That’s definitely the territory I want my own things to occupy.

Still From:  Grazia Toderi, 'Orbite Rosse', Video (Dual Projection), 2009

My other overarching impression of ‘Metropolis’ overall is of its generally calm, meditative quality.  Although differing paces of urban existence are evoked, the general mood is one of somewhat detached observation and the tag line ‘Reflections on The Modern City’ appears appropriate.  Here are a few things that particularly impressed me…

Andreas Gefeller, 'IP 12', Photographic Print, 2012

Andreas Gefeller, 'SV 08', Photographic Print, 2012

• The photography of Andreas Gefeller (Germany):  Gefeller’s elegant, heavily manipulated pieces are, in this show, all about light.  Large images of a refinery, an elevated road intersection and panoramic cityscape are dramatically under-exposed to become pale, near-monochromatic visions, punctuated by vestiges of occasional colour.  Simultaneously ghostly but highly detailed, they speak of the nocturnal saturation of built environments in artificial light.  This is explored at much greater distance by his beautiful satellite images of illuminated cities glowing like nebulae in the darkness.  I love the formality and extreme distillation of Gefeller’s work.

Still From:  Nicholas Provost, 'Storyteller', Video, 2011

• Nicholas Provost, (Belgium), ‘Storyteller’, Video, 2011:  Provost’s video is the most obvious piece of ‘eye candy’ in the show, which is perfectly appropriate for a piece whose subject is the neon overload of nocturnal Las Vegas.  His camera tracks in slow motion through various panoramas of the Vegas Strip and its familiar leisure landmarks, with the footage split and mirrored to create a simple but effective hallucinatory effect.  It’s not necessarily the most original idea but does make a visually sumptuous comment on the hypnotic, reflexive nature of 'The Spectacle’ identified by Guy Debord.

Christiane Baumgartner, 'Asphalt I', Woodcut (Left Panel Of Diptych), 2004

• The video-derived woodcuts of Christiane Baumgartner, (Germany):  Baumgartner uses stills from her own videos as sources for her large woodcuts, with subjects tending toward relatively mundane sections of road, canal-surface reflections, etc.).  I find this conversation between a new, time-based medium, (the glimpse), and a slow, antique, craft-based one, (the meditative gaze), quite fascinating.  This relationship is made plain by the overt use of parallel, engraved lines so typical of woodcuts but also recalling modern mechanical reproduction or, indeed the screening of video itself.  Baumgartner’s prints are accompanied by a captivating, high contrast video loop of undulating reflections on a Birmingham canal surface augmented by a soundtrack of urban ambiance.

Still From:  Beat Streuli, 'Palisades', Video, 2001

• Beat Streuli, (Switzerland), ‘Palisades’, Video, 2001:  Streuli’s paired videos fill their small frames with slow-motion footage of Birmingham’s city centre pedestrians.  They provide an obvious people-watching opportunity to study facial expressions, personal details etc.  However, they also provoke thoughts about consumerism, (through the prevalence of clothing logos and street food on show), population overload and the claustrophobia of cities.  Streuli’s use of a long focal length compresses his subjects into a tight depth of field and raises issues around surveillance and candid filming.

Still From:  Josef Robakowski, 'View From My Window', Video, 1978-99

• Josef Robakowski, (Poland), ‘View From My Window’, Video, 1978-99:  Robakowski’s video differs from all the others on show in its transferred-analogue, monochrome (Communist), aesthetic and extreme gestation period.  Lovingly, he documents the events observed from his window in a vast public housing project and the events unfolding in the concrete courtyard below.  His attention gradually shifts from the lives of his neighbours to the alienating transformation of the space into a shoppers’ car park and, ultimately, a massive view-obscuring hotel site.  It’s a moving, personal interpretation of both the physical transformation of a city and historic political/economic upheavals.

Zhang Enli, 'Apartment 3', Oil On Canvas, 2008

• Zhang Enli, (China), ‘Apartment 3’, Oil on Canvas, 2008:  Zhang Enli’s large canvas is the nearest thing to ‘traditional’ painterliness at ‘Metropolis’.  Employing thin washes of warm and cool grey, it depicts the blank, modular façade of a housing block.  Thus, it echoes the apparently soulless, totalitarian architecture of the building in Robakowski’s video opposite but shows little sign of the humanity actually pervading that piece.  Only the repeat pattern of open, vacant windows hints at possible occupation in this bleak image.  The perspectival distortion speaks of a photographically derived composition whilst the handling of linear structures makes me reflect on the realities of handling such a spare, geometrically rigorous subject in paint.

Romuald Hazoume, 'ARTicle 14', Assemblage (Found Objects), 1997-2005 &
'ARTicle 14, Debrouille-Toi, Toi-Meme (Version 1)', Photographic Print, 2005

• Photography & Assemblages by Romuald Hazoumé, (Benin):  Hazoumé’s large, complex photographs show panoramic views of African bazaars and shopping streets.  It’s a version of the continent with which we’ve become familiar, where what used to be called The Third World meets an influx of small motorcycles, mobile phones and Capitalist consumerism.  Elsewhere, he presents images of mopeds and impromptu vehicles carrying unfeasibly large loads as a comment on the supposed resourcefulness-against-all-odds of African populations.  Nearby, an assemblage, resembling a traditional street trader’s cart or stall is piled high with already-obsolete western goods.  To us it resembles a comical jumble sale; to an African citizen it may represent the complete economic transformation of a continent and all that implies, both good and bad.

Mohamed Bourouissa, 'L'impasse', Photographic Print, 2007

Mohammed Bourouissa, 'La Rencontre', Photographic Print, 2005

• The Photography of Mohamed Bourouissa, (Algeria/France):  These constructed tableaux present a view of life lived by immigrant populations beyond the Parisian Periphique.  They appear to confirm news reports of a world of tension, poverty and disenfranchisement and many suggest violence either pending or recently enacted.  The carefully posed body language of his subjects is often aggressive and eye contact deliberately challenging.  Each situation is clearly a fiction but this is Bourouissa’s own world and we must assume there’s at least some truth behind his account of the lives of Paris’ suburban dispossessed.

Still From: Jochem Hendricks, 'Front Windows', Video, 2009

• Jochem Hendricks, (Germany), ‘Front Windows’, Video, 2009:  This may be my favourite thing at ‘Metropolis’.  Hendricks’ static camera objectively frames the façade of a large, nondescript 19th century building in Frankfurt.  Although not shot in monochrome, - the scene is almost devoid of colour, and the illumination is even and lacking drama.  Over a period of several minutes, rocks thrown from within methodically smash all of the building’s numerous windowpanes, - and that’s it.  I was captivated by its hypnotic rhythms of implied violence within an overall atmosphere of level calm.  Each explosion of glass and debris is visually and sonically distinct, and, by occurring unpredictably, singly and in clusters, they create a palpable air of tension throughout.  It seems like a poem to entropic forces held within formal bounds or the potential of cities to seemingly auto-destruct in part as needs and priorities change.  There’s also a possible allusion to the varying intensities of past human events that may have unfolded behind each uniform window, (a theme already identified in the work of Josef Robakowski and Zhang Enli).

‘Metropolis: Reflections On The Modern City’ is entering its last few days but you can still catch it until 23 June 2013.  I’d certainly encourage you to take a look if you find yourself in Brum before then.  I believe all the work shown has been acquired for Birmingham museums and look forward to seeing at least some of it again in the future.