Greys & Danger*

All Images: Central Birmingham, October 2015

I found myself over in Birmingham, the other day, for a couple of reasons, (about which - more to follow, soon).  As ever, my progress was punctuated by regular pauses to photograph miscellaneous fragments of seemingly inconsequential urban detail, (to the bafflement of various passers-by, also as ever).

One For The Fall Fans

Here are a few of the results, which, if anything, show that, my fascination with surfaces and texts, (mostly unofficial texts, in this case), continue unabated.  They also demonstrate that my eye is currently drawn to the particularly grungy and ad-hoc, or to those instances where something appears on the point of disappearance or cancellation.  Those qualities often seem to go hand in hand with a palette drained of anything much in the way of saturated colour.  It’s the scale of whites, greys, blacks and neutrals that largely colours my thinking just now.

Perhaps as an antidote to that, I also managed to collect a few more pleasing examples of black and yellow hazard warning tape.  There's always something pleasing about the Op-Art fragmentation that takes place when such striped material is wound round a cylindrical form , and I'm particularly charmed by how much effort has been made here to pad every section of scaffold that might conceivably injure an unwary pedestrian.  It's positively cuddly.

* With apologies to the late John Martyn

Shaun Morris: 'Black Highway' At Cupola@Blue Moon Cafe, Sheffield

All Images: Shaun Morris, Work On Display At Blue Moon Cafe, Sheffield,  October 2015

A little while ago, I mentioned the paintings of Shaun Morris, a Birmingham-based artist whose work has featured on this blog from time to time.  I’ve know Shaun for a few years now, since he invited me to participate in 2012’s group exhibition, ‘If A Picture Paints A ThousandWords, Why Can’t I ‘.  Shaun has continued to exhibit his work in a variety of locations since then, including two significant exhibitions in Rugby and Nuneaton, and I’m always struck by how his turnover of paintings, and general artistic dynamism can make my own progress look positively glacial.  Shaun is a family man who holds down a day job far more demanding than my own, but still seems able to produce a new body of work in impressively short order.

This is, I suspect, partly due to his having worked hard over the years, to develop a pleasingly direct and unlaboured painting style.  It’s the kind of thing that, perversely, can actually be one of the hardest things to achieve.  I’ve always been something of an over-methodical plodder myself, (and probably always will be), so people who seem to possess a more rapid or spontaneous artistic metabolism often impress me.

Interestingly, Shaun’s latest public showing sees him placing his work outside of the normal gallery context, in Sheffield’s Blue Moon Café.  Although, the show has been mounted in association with that city's Cupola Gallery, Shaun’s photos clearly show that this is very much an eating space.  The opportunity to get work widely seen, and the often self-selecting nature of gallery audiences, (not to mention ever-dispiriting commercial imperatives), are perpetual issues for exhibiting artists.  It’s no surprise then, that catering establishments are another category of possible venue that many find themselves exploring. 

If I’m honest, I’m never quite sure how I feel about such places as art venues.  I can certainly see how there can be a useful symbiotic relationship there, and also how one might easily draw the eye of someone not in the habit of making specific gallery visits.  There is a definite sense in which moments of eating can also become moments of contemplation in which an artwork might find its way into a viewer’s consciousness.  Equally though, I’m always a bit wary of how easily work can be relegated to mere décor in such contexts, or to a backdrop for the more pressing social intercourse that often accompanies refreshment stops.

Admittedly, this uncertainty about artworks becoming ‘mere’ décor might just be a particular hang-up of my own, and the debate over which contexts one might meaningfully appreciate art is clearly a wide one, (not to mention the one to be had over the function of this stuff in the first place).  In the event, it appears that both the nature and the extent of Shaun's paintings mean they have a presence that elevates then above such concerns in this particular situation.

Not unreasonably, I suspect Shaun would also like to make a few sales if he can.  Placing work in a context where money is already changing hands may not be such a bad idea, in the light of that.  Anyway, instead of agonising too much about such matters, he has typically just cracked on with getting the work out there, in order to find out the pros and cons for himself.  I know he’s had variety of different exhibiting experiences over the years and is certainly more qualified than I to make a judgment on such matters. 

I've had no chance to visit the Blue Moon cafe as yet, and indeed, my own intermittent mobility problems have limited my opportunities to get out and about as much as I'd like generally, just lately.  For that reason, I can’t supply any photos of my own, or a particularly coherent response to the actual work at this stage.  Shaun’s paintings will be up in Sheffield for a while though, so I’ll certainly make the effort if I can.  I’ve yet to see any of his recent truck-related work ‘in the canvas’, which is something I’m definitely keen to do.  Sheffield is a rewarding city to visit generally, and a sit-down and a cup of tea are pretty much necessities, these days.

To illustrate this post, I’ve lifted a few images from his blog, where you can also read his account of how the show wentup.  Clearly, there were a couple of practical issues with the hang, specific to the nature of the venue that are definitely interesting to read about.The best way to see all Shaun's work, both new and old, is here, on his website.

Shaun Morris, 'Black Highway', continues until 8 December at: Blue Moon Cafe, 2 St James Row, Sheffield, S1 2EW

New Beginnings: Completed Studies

'Untitled', Acrylics, Paper Collage, Spray Enamel, Ink & Coloured Pencil On Paper,
30 cm X 30 cm, 2015

There’s been precious little to show you in the way of my own original artwork in recent months, so this post represents something of a small reawakening.  The four new studies shown here are fairly modest in both scale and scope, but do indicate that my practice is starting to pick up a little renewed momentum.

'Untitled', Acrylics, Paper Collage, Spray Enamel & Ink On Paper,
30 cm X 30 cm, 2015

'Untitled', Acrylics, Paper Collage, Spray Enamel, Ink & Coloured Pencil On Paper,
30 cm X 30 cm, 2015

There’s been no real concern over my having lost my way in recent months, (as there might have once been), but rather a deliberately-embraced period of clearing my mind and recharging batteries after all the intense activity of the year’s first half.  In reality, I’ve actually been far from idle artistically, over the summer, having accepted a commission to produce some artwork for the school where I earn my living.  That particular project has been far more of a conscious design job, and doesn’t particularly resemble my other self-generated output, but has kept me rewardingly occupied for several weeks.  It’s nearing completion now, and I’ll reveal the results here soon.

'Untitled', Acrylics, Paper Collage, Spray Enamel, Ink & Coloured Pencil On Paper,
30 cm X 30 cm, 2015

Anyway, back to the subject of non-commissioned work.  Having reached a kind of milestone with June’s ‘Mental Mapping’ exhibition, I decided to re-evaluate my priorities rather than simply persisting with more of the same.  Given that some of that work involved fairly clear parameters, conceptually, I decided to just let any new things slowly emerge in a more organic manner, as and when the time felt right.   That’s pretty much where I am right now, - with numerous possibilities circulating open-endedly, but certain themes and concerns slowly coming into clearer focus.

Sneinton Market, Nottingham, May 2014

Unrecorded Location, 2009

Nottingham, May 2015

As is often the case, what initially feels like an attempt to break new ground, can actually result in more of an evolution than a revolution.  There are clear, somewhat involuntary, connections with certain familiar formal habits and techniques here.  Indeed, for all my stated desire to move things in a more painterly direction, there’s still a heavy reliance on collage methods in these little studies but - I’d contend, hints of  slightly more fluidity just starting to emerge also.

Jacqueline Humphries, 'Untitled', Oil On Canvas, 2008

Jacqueline Humphries, 'Untitled', Oil On Canvas, 2012

It’s far too early to really make any major claims for these tentative beginnings, and far more useful to just get on with generating some more as soon as possible.  Thus, I’ll just augment them with a few of my own photographic images, and work by a couple of artists who I can’t stop looking at just now.  All these images seem to speak to each other in one way or another but, for the present, it feels unnecessary to say anything more definitive than that.

Christopher Wool, 'Eurotrash', Enamel On Linen,  2004

Mail Shots 3

It's a while since I put any of these up, but they're all still out there, and I keep finding them.

Digbeth, Birmingham, May 2015

These four seem to form a meditation on neutral colour, and, in a couple of cases, on the idea of being there and not there.  The reality is that all of these examples are details of buildings or businesses that were, (at the time of their being observed), either vacant or defunct.  I suppose there is also an definite sense of their representing a form of physical communication that is itself becoming obsolete.

Nottingham, May 2014

Certain ideas about redundancy, cancellation, vacancy or extinction seem to preoccupy me (again) at the moment, but I'll let you make your own mind up about any specific associations these motifs may, or may not, evoke.

Nottingham, October 2015

One thing is certain, mail box slots constitute a conduit of communication, - an organ of admission into a building or a concern.  There is an distinct poignancy about their stopping-up.

Leicester, October 2015

Nottingham Castle Open Exhibition 2015

Craig David Parr, Still From: 'The Story Of The Clock Part II', Digital Video, 2015

Earlier this summer, I entered several pieces of work into the selection process for the ‘Nottingham Castle Open 2015’ exhibition.  I wasn’t successful but, now that the exhibition is open, I went along the other day to have a look anyway.

Sadly, I wasn’t particularly impressed.  I know that will sound like sour grapes but it’s really not supposed to.  I understand there’s an aspect of lottery about all such open selections, and that the particular priorities (or tastes) of any selection panel must always be taken into account.  In the event, the quality and validity (or otherwise) of my own entries aren’t particularly relevant anyway, as it appears that anything resembling painting was hardly on the selection panel’s agenda.  To be honest, this deliberate downplaying of a particular medium in favour of more technologically ‘sexy’ forms seems pretty shortsighted these days, and I do feel we should be over all this ideological ‘Painting Is dead’ nonsense by now.

Nevertheless, I’m certainly no media purist, and happy to consider work in any mode on a given day.  The unfortunate fact is that there just isn’t much in the exhibition that resonated with me, and rather too much that felt a bit facile or just like empty gestures.  One or two pieces really are just poorly executed, in truth.  That seems a little unforgivable, as I imagine the selectors weren’t short of entries to draw on for a show of relatively modest dimensions.

Anthony Fletcher, Still From: 'Transcend', 16mm Film Transferred To HD Digital Video, 2015

I did however enjoy the generally intelligent use of the available gallery space and the decision to create an impressive atmosphere by painting the walls dark grey and restricting the ambient lighting.  Video is the single most prevalent medium represented, and clearly benefits from such a theatrical context, (as do the other light-based pieces).  However, everything else is generally well spot-lit too, and all the work has a fair chance to shine.  It’s a shame then, that the wall captions feature some of the least illuminating and occasionally, nonsensical artist’s statements I’ve read in a long while [1.], (not necessarily the curators’ fault, I realise).

Anthony Fletcher, Still From: 'Transcend', 16mm Film Transferred To HD Digital Video, 2015

Anyway, enough with the negative comments.  If little actually rocked my world, there are a small handful of pieces that at least made my visit (almost) worth the effort [2.].  In the interests of positivity, let’s focus on them for now.

Anthony Fletcher, Still From: 'Transcend', 16mm Film Transferred To HD Digital Video, 2015

Anthony Fletcher’s video, ‘Transcend’ is a nebulous melange of nearly unidentifiable visual impressions.  Rippling water and suggestions of foliage occasionally emerge in an unfocussed manner, but mostly it just resembles a restless stream of visual ambience.  It’s probably not too difficult to just unfocus or mis-expose a variety of footage and layer it into the visual equivalent of a track from Aphex Twin’s second album, but I found the piece pleasingly hypnotic and well enough put together all the same.  The duration between its loops feels about right, and the variation in abstract visual qualities is sufficient to hold my attention throughout.  What really makes it is the deliberate use of 16mm film stock, with all its attendant glitches and analogue warmth, before the transfer to an HD digital format.  That analogue/digital stand-off isn’t exactly new territory, but it pleases me that Fletcher addresses it in a way that is as much about visual pleasure as anything else, in the first instance.

Craig David Parr, 'The Story Of The Clock Parts I, II & III', Digital Video, 2015

Another video piece that appealed to me, but for very different reasons, is Craig David Parr’s three-part ‘The Story Of The Clock’, shown concurrently on separate screens.  This is a resolutely ramshackle undertaking, recalling the absurdist existentialism at the heart of Samuel Beckett, the messy pranksterism of Paul McCarthy, or even the ribald excesses of Alfred Jarry.  In the first chapter, an (the) artist character constructs a large, clumsily-made clock face sculpture whilst wearing a crude, papier maché pig-like head.  The second part records his struggle to push this up a flight of stairs with obvious difficulty and relatively little progress, (the stairs extending much further than he's able to climb).  Finally, the pig/artist drops his trousers, produces a grossly distended fake member, and proceeds to masturbate over the clock face in what looks like a semi-industrial studio setting.

Craig David Parr, Still From: 'The Story Of The Clock Part I', Digital Video, 2015

Craig David Parr, Still From: 'The Story Of The Clock Part III', Digital Video, 2015

Clearly, we’re not dealing with aesthetic refinement or any form of subtlety here.  However, the piece has a stylistic consistency and a variety of internal (il)logic.  This is one of two pieces by Parr in the exhibition, and he has a stated mission to question ideas about cultural authority or the validity of perceived Utopias.  I didn’t really get too much of a sense of the latter from ‘The Story Of The Clock’, preferring to read it, more generally, as a thinly-veiled commentary on the futility of human and artistic, (or indeed critical), endeavour, and the inescapability of mortality.  On reflection, maybe those things do connect with the idea of Utopia after all.  Not unimportantly, this piece also made me laugh inwardly, not least over its blatancy, and the chance topical relevance to grotesque acts of public, pig-based onanism.

Richard Sandell, Images From: 'A Tough Year For The Sirens', C-Type Photographic Prints. 2014

Oddly, the other two pieces that held my attention are both photographic projects relating to swimming pools [3.].  Richard Sandell’s paired photographs are apparently part of a project documenting both the travails of mixed gender, age and sexually oriented synchronised swimming team, and the issues of discrimination raised by their experiences.  In fact, it’s all a fiction, and the hilariously mis-matched team members depicted in Prof. Sandell’s beautifully composed changing room settings are actually members of his family.  I enjoyed this combining of an apparent documentary approach with a wholly fictional narrative, as well as the essential humanity at the heart of the project.  The insertion of all-too-real individuals into a context as artificially formalised as synchronised swimming seems rather well-judged.

Richard Sandell, 'A Tough Year For The Sirens', C-Type Print, 2014

Richard Sandell, 'Renato', C-Type Photographic Print, 2014

The second pool-related piece is Holgar Martin’s ‘Main Pool - I Have Been Swimming Here For 15 Years’.  This is another beautifully exposed and composed image, this time with a rather more straightforward documentary agenda.  It is part of a project to document  Nottingham’s now defunct Beechdale Swimming Baths, and its changes over the years since it opened in 1970.

Holgar Martin, 'Main Pool - I Have Been Swimming Here For 15 Years',
Archival Photographic Print, 2015

It occurs to me that, sensually, large, communal swimming pools are  a distinct category of place.  They are very much a world of light, reflection, formal geometry and particular recurring colours.  They are also redolent of certain, instantly recognisable sensations of smell, humidity and acoustics.  Martin implies plenty of that in his image, but all that delicious, limpid geometry is also typical of a particular mode of Modernist design, which in turn speaks of the idealistic, communality of spirit in which many public pools were once built.  I grew up taking the construction of such places as a public amenity for granted.  I can’t help suspecting that, nowadays, the majority of swimming pools are created as part of private, subscription-only health clubs, or in the basements of billionaire oligarchs.

There we go then.  I started this post in a bit of a grump but, clearly, there were some genuine pleasures to be had, even in a somewhat disappointing exhibition.  Perversely though, I’m going to end as I started…

A Word To The Wise:

Should you find yourself visiting Nottingham, (an experience I would normally endorse), do yourself a favour and avoid the City Council-run Broadmarsh Centre Car Park.  I’m generally a fan of the dystopian glamour of your average dilapidated multi-story car park, but this one’s becoming almost unusable.  I queued for 45 minutes at several mal-functioning ticket machines, along with an increasingly disgruntled crowd of Saturday shoppers, just for the privilege of paying for release.  What’s worse, once a harassed member of staff finally appeared to take money in person, my parking fee had actually clicked over into the next tariff, with no talk of a refund at any stage.  On top of the Castle’s admission charge, it was hardly a cost-effective way to spend Saturday afternoon, Nottingham City Council (and, more to the point, Mr. Osbourne). 

“All that relish for failed utopias doesn’t look so clever now, does it, smart lad?” - I bet you’re thinking.


'Nottingham Castle Open 2015' continues until 8 November at: Nottingham Castle Museum & Art Gallery, Lenton Road, Nottingham NG1 6EL.  I'd recommend allowing enough time to view the whole collection, if you're to get your money's worth.

[1.]:  Writing such stuff in a coherent manner certainly isn’t easy, as I myself discovered, earlier in the year.  All the same, I’m not sure it really helps to just use ‘emotions’ as a vague, catch-all term for, well, nothing very much.  At least try to communicate something a little more specific, folks.

[2.]:  If not actually the Castle’s £6.00 admission fee.  Perhaps my mood wasn’t helped by the fact I had to wade through the Beer Festival taking place in the Castle grounds, before I even got to the main entrance.  Don’t get me wrong, - I enjoy a pint of the proper stuff as much as anyone else.  In fact, on reflection, perhaps I should have stopped off for one on the way in, - it might have helped.

[3.]:  Whilst writing this post, it does occur to me that one of the more impressive aspects of this show is the way that the curators have managed to connect certain thematic threads within it.  That’s something one wouldn’t necessarily expect from an open exhibition, for obvious reasons.