Wednesday, 10 October 2018

Music Re/View 1




All Photo Manipulations: October 2018


I hereby found the School Of The Heterotopic Review/ from a submarine stationed under the ice shelf// Prepare to be further confused by this guff// All copy shall be filed/ from locales that are the antithesis of the disturbing, intense, incompatible, contradictory/ amusement arcades of Newquay// The poem I wrote this morning - Barong Dance is about the link between the music and the dance in Balinese/Camborne Dance dramas.




I personally am happy for everything this man gives to us// It's unique// I did not have a seizure which is nice/ given that he probs has hundreds of tracks from the silent period/ ensconced in a space designed to keep their horizons flat and close// For clarity's sake, I meant that in the context of 'tracks we've not heard anywhere else to date'// The least we can expect is a new scale, timbre or frequency// He'd need to know music theory a lot more in order to push the envelope and it seems like he's not interested in that// We should be thankful he's/ wanky in all the wrong ways.




Some may not agree, and that's fine// These new tracks function like fractal outgrowths/ floating like clouds across the aural field/ of that restless micro-level tinkering// The synth line only appears twice across six minutes// It’s very interesting how spread out the stereo is/ replicating each subtle melodic variation or skittering new drum fill// Individual sounds no longer exist to serve a larger system, but are/ percussive chain reactions and elastic triplet patterns being pulled taut into zippers of pure buzz// Then, for good measure, he goes and slaps the time-stretched bark of a reggae deejay over the top of it/ from inside the Michael Faraday Monument in Elephant And Castle.




The T69 was an American medium tank with an oscillating turret// In many ways, it's just what we needed.../ some quirky not-afraid-to-be-accessible stuff with/ vocal sessions in the late-night yacht, and/ all the new stuff he has gotten recently, such as the MIDI-mutant device// Yet, listeners not as keen to electronic music will listen to this and think big deal// There's some truth to that but (at the risk of indulging in pedantry)/ electronic music is very modern and you can literally record it// You could save yourself lots of money buy buying generic ibuprofen which is what nurofen is but without the shiny box// I think it's inherent in the word/ as though it already weren’t hype enough// I suppose the same could be said about me paying £17 for the ltd edition 12”.




I think it's hard to mix this kind of thing// You can't drop the aces straight off, you gotta wait for it// The bowl of cereal is all sog with no crunch// For one thing, it's an adjective as opposed to its verb form "innovate" so the subject (innovator) is/ in a state of disarray as if the alarm for an impending nuclear catastrophe has gone off// A lot of the background acid lines are quiet and the drums/ create a duller, less meaningful sentence structure/ bouncing like ball bearings in an earthquake// There are 150 BPM shifts crammed into mere seconds/ so the kicks don't sound thin// The rhythms are obviously bouncehouse levels of frolic/ but they don't/ add extra kinks to his funhouse-mirror surfaces// My own listening pleasure was heightened subtly by catching the faintest neighing from nearby horses/ and I'll probably come to love the wallops by the end of the weekend.




It's really not that hard to understand. It's not/ a real-time, de-mixing based plug-in// He probably fine-tunes it and adjusts for his purposes/ as an overarching structural shift// Musical intelligence is not linear and is not even a thing/ (and I’ve already spent enough time outlining why I think this is an unreasonable desire)// Someone clearly comes down here regularly to clean up and cut the grass/ as well as modifying reverb characteristics// That allows attenuating or boosting reverb components within a mixed signal of any channel count, including mono sources// It slows down// It’s not quite wrong but definitely not right, either// What we have here, in total, is neither something entirely without precedent/ (running, confusingly, at a different tempo to everything else)/ but neither is it the same old same old/ cray-cray funktersplash.




While he has sustained the same electronic style for the last 15 years, and gotten very good at it/ notation and theory are different things// I would kind of describe this as all the analog lushness/gear paying off in the best ways/ plus a bunch of constantly changing reverb, panning, delay fx, lowpass filtering, tight cirklon triggering, and even motherfucking record scratching// It’s music for Mad Max’s post-apocalyptic parties, rather than your aunt Maureen’s/ perceptionally less important signal components// Come on, people! Where are your standards?!// One day, inevitably, mankind will perish, and likely by our own hand. 

Or something like that. You get the idea.




Tuesday, 9 October 2018

'Visions Of A Free-Floating Island': Under Review


What the heck - if I'm hoping to be a bit more 'strategic' in my thinking, and to take more advantage of potentially beneficial stuff whenever it arises - then why not actually just put this up on here?  Milking it? - I should cocoa...



Art Review: Visions of a Free-Floating Island at Surface Gallery

3 October 18
words: Adrian Shaw



This cracking exhibition at SurfaceGallery showcased new work from Hugh Marwood, Andrew Smith and Shaun Morris; their art reflecting many of the ideological and psychological challenges facing the UK post-Brexit. Our writer Adrian Shaw popped in to have a look and tell us all abaht it...


Hugh Marwood, 'Fridge 1' (Photo: Adrian Shaw)


‘There are conversations going on between the artworks’ raising fresh points which we become aware of...’ (Artists’ Talk comment, Hugh Marwood, et al)

This exhibition is the collective view of the three artists exhibiting their latest work at this really stimulating and fresh-looking show, which examines the condition of our post-Brexit island. The trio of artists have been working together since 2012 and, although there are differences in their individual approaches, they have a lot in common as artists, and have a cohesiveness in the presentation of individual viewpoints and experiences.

This was a very British show; it personally appealed to me as an artist looking at both inner and outer spaces. The personal and political were allowed space and opportunity to speak and exchange their views. The post-Brexit negativity that we see in our daily lives, the personal fury in public debates between the two sides of the nation and the negativity against wider ideals does, at least, have the benefit of producing great art such as the works presented in this gallery. Although the politics were Left-leaning, the efforts of all three artists also spoke of working-out the personal and psychological perspectives of wider political experiences and well-being, which one feels is increasingly needful today.

After a thorough examination of the work on show, we, the punters, were privileged on the penultimate Saturday afternoon, to hear the artists talk and partake in discussions on ideas indicated, and added to, on our exposure to their efforts.

The first artist, Hugh Marwood, had a downstairs, 2-D wall-based exhibition known as the ‘Flagging’ series where he takes the Union Flag as a base, and then adds a montage-collagist overlying finish involving text and colourful, seemingly random mark-making. One thinks of Jasper Johns’ work here and a kind of “post-postmodern” art. Upstairs, Marwood’s work was a mixture of two and three dimensional art – with abandoned fridge doors being the substrates for a montage of colourful plastic-lettered text. His ‘Childish Things’ series used found plastic toys, kiddy vehicles, cars, scooters, and a rocking-horse mounted on empty cardboard boxes; the boxes themselves utilised in his ‘Sentinel’ series alongside.


Andrew Smith, 'Standard' (Photo: Adrian Shaw)


His other body of work, ‘The Assembly’ series, utilised found cardboard boxes. On these, 3-D works were scattered on small, bullet-like, empty silver gas propellant canisters. The abandoned toy-cars then hinted at lives of promise and youth misspent into empty adulthood. The Talking Heads song ‘Road to Nowhere’ came to mind here. This sense of emptying-out and abandonment was very evident, including from the works by the other two members of the trio.

Shaun Morris, the second artist, paints with a Zurbaran-inspired loose brushwork to create haunting, darkly shaded oil paintings. Much of his exhibition consisted of abandoned vehicles, many of which are vans - to hold lurking police or criminals, or even terrorists, perhaps. He is also drawn to images of consumerist waste-dumping in the street, with boxes and other ‘containers’ emptied and abandoned. His paintings make a major contribution to the show: images are often viewed at strange angles, imbued with significant critical meaning, depicting the sheer absurdity of consumerism.

The absurd was much-exemplified by all three artists, but especially Andrew Smith who explores the therapeutic or psychoanalytic perspective. Downstairs, the eclectic nature of his work included assemblages about the dis-empowered and emasculated male - with ‘stand-in’ objects such as broken electronic organ keyboard, pink giant stockings, a plastic ‘phallus’ and pink knickers with a mournful puppy pattern and a beheaded ‘King Penguin’. His work was very varied, and included coloured pencil-drawn and acrylic brick wall where both ‘controlling balance’ and ‘unbalance’ mental-states were hinted at. He also indicated the wandering colonial with a book cover: ‘Letters from China’. This artist was also the source of the artwork Visions of a Free-Floating Island’, which gave its name to the Exhibition.

Whether it be through techniques or themes, the artworks were in conversation or in exchange of ideas with one another. The art and the artists themselves depicted cohesiveness and co-operation in the face of national disunity.





Monday, 8 October 2018

'Visions Of A Free-Floating Island': Settling Dust




'Childish Things 3 (Misdirected)': 'Visions Of A Free-Floating Island', Surface Gallery, Nottingham
(Upstairs), September 2018


It’s well over a week since Andrew Smith, Shaun Morris and I removed our joint, ‘Visions Of A Free-Floating Island’ exhibition, from Nottingham’s Surface Gallery.  Months of hard graft and necessary admin, resulted in two weeks of public exposure – which, predictably, seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.  It brings in its aftermath, an equally inevitable sensation of mild anti-climax, and perhaps a few questions about what might (or might not) have been achieved.  There is even the temptation - in moments of enhanced self-doubt, to question why we put ourselves through the process at all, or whether anyone else even notices much.  Were you of a mind to, you  might regard our attempts to reach out into the public arena as a bit of a labour intensive vanity project, whose material benefits are often few and far between.


'Childish Things 4 (Mistaken)', With 'Sentinels 2 & 5': 'VOAFFI' (Upstairs)


At such times, I find it important to refer back to the creative impulse that lies at the core of our activities, and which, long ago - I personally decided is self-justifying enough to require little further explanation (to myself, at least).  I tried not producing my own work for years, and categorically proved that not doing feels worse than at least trying.  If the production of artwork (and its potential therapeutic spin-offs) are a given, that just leaves the bald choice between maintaining a purely onanistic stance - in which work accumulates, unseen, behind one’s own walls; and periodically punting it out into the world – in the hope it might, on a good day, constitute some form of communication or expression.  For all the expense and graft involved in organising and mounting exhibitions (and the subsequent quandaries outlined above) - the second option still feels like the more grown-up one.  It even occurs to me that the first course is more likely to lead to a knock on the door from Environmental Health, or to headlines such as “Lonely Recluse Dies Under Avalanche Of Own Paintings”.  Ultimately, it’s about confidence, and about how seriously you take your own practice, I think.  It seems impossible to ask others to take it seriously if you’re not prepared to stand beside it yourself.


Shaun Morris, 'Salute', Oil On Canvas, 2018, 'VOAFFI' (Downstairs)

Shaun Morris, (L.): 'The Street (Empty Boxes)', (R.): 'The Street (Empty Boxes) 2',
Both Oil On Canvas, 2017-18: 'VOAFFI' (Upstairs)

Shaun Morris, 'The Street (The Digger)', Oil On Canvas, 2018: 'VOAFFI' (Upstairs)


As Andrew, Shaun and I shared a post-exhibition pint, we also agreed that, regardless of how much or how little public attention one’s work might garner, (and how elitist the admission may sound), the opinion, and possibly respect, of other practitioners is actually pretty important to all of us.  That’s despite the fact that it’s all too easy to luxuriate in the ivory Art palace – or perhaps exactly because, contemporary art is really little more than just a weird hobby carried out by deluded eccentrics, in the view of many.  Even worse is the oft-heard view that it’s merely a cynical ruse to hoodwink or patronise the ‘hoi-poloi’.  Exhibiting should, ideally, aspire to break down those barriers, of course - but no one’s really pretending we’ll be able to transcend generations of educational shortcomings, societal expectations and cultural ghettoisation, over two weeks in another Midland town - are they?


Andrew Smith, 'Untitled (Hard)', Acrylics & Digital Print On Canvas, 2012: 'VOAFFI'
 (Downstairs)

Andrew Smith, 'Lead Balloons', Pencil & Fibre Pen/Digital Print On Paper, 2018:
'VOAFFI' (Upstairs)


What those who claim to be excluded by an elitist art world overlook, is that many artists themselves feel pretty marginalised by mainstream society, most of the time.  It may be a pretty blunt measure – but you really only need calculate the total audiences for, and broadcast hours devoted to, football, dating, gambling, or other ‘mainstream’ interests - compared with those pertaining to any form of serious arts programming.  It’s not actually so difficult to work out who’s really being culturally excluded these days, in the mainstream media, at least.  Ironically, as more or less good old-fashioned ‘lefties’, the three of us probably must accept ‘the democratic will of the people’ to choose, in such matters (honestly – don’t get me started…).  In which case, one is inevitably pushed back onto the hope there might at least be some connection to be made with the minority of folk who still actually value or ‘get it’.


Works By Andrew Smith & Shaun Morris, 'VOAFFI' (Downstairs)


That may also explain why, as we’ve also remarked amongst ourselves, so many younger contemporary artists often appear happy to self-curate distinctly inward-looking art events nowadays - seemingly tailored just for ‘us and our friends’.  Perhaps artists of our generation would actually do well to remember that we live in an online world where, perhaps, mass outreach is no longer even really the point.  Getting one’s work seen is probably now more about the nurtured audience, the targeted response, and the savvy marketing strategy, as it is about just putting it on the walls and opening the doors.


Andrew Smith, 'Untitled (Therapy)', Coloured Pencil/Digital Print On Paper, 2018,
'VOAFFI' (Downstairs)

Andrew Smith, 'Portrait Of The Artist As Two Dogs (Big And Small)', 2018,
Fibre Pen/Digital Print On Paper, 2018: 'VOAFFI' (Downstairs)


If this all sounds like a bit of a counsel of despair, it’s really not supposed to.  Perhaps it’s just a kind of wake-up call to do with properly clarifying one’s true motives, and aspirations.  Perhaps it's actually about being a little more ‘strategic’ about it things (however much I might dislike the general implications of that word).  In fact, we, and Surface did manage to cover several of those bases outlined above, and I think we all felt positive about most of the work itself in ‘VOAFFI’, and maybe even more so about the show as a whole.  The proviso is that it was also our most ambitious joint venture to date – and thus, with magnified implications to match, perhaps.  As I intimated in my last post, the sheer effort of realising it was pretty full-on - taking us all close to the limits of our physical capabilities and collective  ability to manage time and competing commitments.  Perhaps it’s that which really provokes all this questioning about exactly what we might hope to get back in return.  Could it just be that, after so much graft, the ego petulantly feels like it's due even more payback?


(Top L.): Shaun Morris, 'Trousers', 2018, (Bottom L.): Shaun Morris, 'A Home In England', 2017,
(R.): Andrew Smith, 'Wall Poem (Redacted)', Digital Print (Two Parts), 2018: 'VOAFFI' (Downstairs)


Clearly, that’s not quantifiable in terms of sales (although they weren’t totally absent, in the end).  But, in fairness, none of us could exactly be accused of chasing the easy sales or of deliberately tailoring our work to that end.  And I’m conscious there’s always a tendency for independently minded artists like us to want our cake, and to eat it (again – don’t get me started).   So perhaps it really is more about a craving for recognition, in that case.  And, encouragingly, the general response from attendees of our Opening Event and Artist Talk was encouragingly positive.  That’s worth a lot - particularly when in-depth conversations about the subtleties of the work replace mere polite chit-chat - as they did in many cases, on both occasions.  Even more tangible, in terms of positive opinion, is a subsequent review, in Nottingham’s estimable ‘Left Lion’ listings magazine - penned by Adrian Shaw.  Adrian was one of the small gathering who attended our Artist Talk, and who took the trouble to talk to us at some length about our work.  I won’t pretend I’m not more than a little gratified by the results, which you can read here.


'Sentinels 1 & 3': 'VOAFFI' (Upstairs)


That was one of three in-depth conversations I had with completely unfamiliar faces over the two events (the other two being with fellow practicing artists).  Each, in its own way, seemed to prove my earlier point about the value of connecting with one’s peers, or those with at least an already partially open mind.  In fact, my own experience of exhibiting is still relatively slight, and this was the first time I’d either conducted a public discussion of my work, or indeed, been reviewed.  The genuine connections made or communication achieved, which they seem to represent - are probably the most significant take-home ‘achievements’ of the whole project, for me.  And, if we must remember to think more calculatingly about all this stuff –the profile-raising value of a favourable review probably shouldn’t be ignored (obviously – you can ask me again, should I ever receive a bad one).


'Sentinel 1': 'VOAFFI' (Upstairs)


I had originally intended this post to be more of an in-depth reflection on the actual content of the show – rather than a self-indulgent meditation on ‘the point of it all’, but to do that here would clearly create a piece of ludicrous proportions.  In fact, the necessity may be negated by both Adrian’s review, and also by referring you to another blog piece – this time posted by Shaun Morris himself.  This goes back again to that point about connecting with fellow practitioners – and in his case - that is actually what instigated all this recurring joint exhibiting in the first place.  As we’ve repeatedly recognised, it’s the common threads and implied conversations (both conscious and unpredicted) – between three quite distinct bodies of work, which has provided much of the impetus behind these periodic comings together.  I know Shaun doesn’t always have an excess of confidence in his literary abilities, but whatever he does write always feels refreshingly from-the-heart, to me.  Either way, his extended post - penned shortly before our show came down, feels like an apt enough reflection of the whole venture.  If it also seems to reflect the odd doubt, of his own – well, we’re clearly all as bad as each other - aren’t we?  Shaun’s piece does cover many of the points I might have made myself, so I’ll resist the temptation to bore on interminably myself - and instead, refer you to him…


I think you’ve saved me a job there, Shaun.