'Aquatopia: The Imaginary Of The Ocean Deep' At Nottingham Contemporary

Nottingham Contemporary

I spent another weekend in Nottingham at a bit of a loose end recently, so took the opportunity to visit the exhibition, ‘Aquatopia: The Imaginary Of The Ocean Deep’, at Nottingham Contemporary.  Completed, (at some cost), just before the money finally ran out, The Contemporary is a definite plus point in a city with already quite a lot to offer culturally.  My own town of Leicester may have attempted to catch up in the last few years but, sadly, still has nothing to rival that facility where visual art is concerned.  Luckily, it’s only a short hop by road or rail between the two cities.

Nottingham Contemporary From The Rear, Lower Ground Level

Nottingham Contemporary, Lace Pattern Detail

If not exactly beautiful, the Contemporary building is a striking addition to the fabric of Nottingham and well positioned between the main shopping centre and the atmospheric old Lace Market quarter.  There are various bars, cafes and restaurants nearby and it feels like a part of town where one might happily hang out in off duty moments.  Architecturally, it exhibits a minimalism familiar in such institutions but tempers excessive rigour with fluted facades, sage green and gold colouration, and subtle surface detail relating to Nottingham’s lace-making heritage.  Under favourable lighting conditions its surfaces emit a pleasing pale golden glow.  It also cascades pleasingly down the sandstone cliff on which it is positioned, with a stylish but comfortable café-bar spilling out onto a terrace two stories below the entrance level.  Inside, the galleries are spacious, (although I wish they could have capitalised on daylight rather more).  I even like The Contemporary’s retro logo/signage.

Nottingham Contemporary, Rear View With Cafe Terrace

I won’t pretend the ‘Aquatopia’ show is exactly life changing, but it did provide a pleasant enough diversion for an hour.  It follows a fashionable current template by curating mismatched items representing various periods, cultures and media around a common theme, (in this case, The Sea).  These included items of design and industrial manufacture as well as what is perhaps still called Fine Art.  For me, it was nowhere near as inspiring as ‘Metropolis’ in Birmingham earlier this year but this may be in part because that mixed show tapped directly into several of my own concerns.  I was also somewhat underwhelmed by the audio-visual work in Nottingham, whereas at ‘Metropolis’ I had been pleasantly surprised by much of it.

Nottingham Contemporary From The Rear, Upper Street Level

Perhaps my biggest reservation about ‘Aquatopia’ is that it only provides glimpses of anything approaching a truly immersive experience.  It’s more like inspecting a cabinet of salty curiosities than being sensually, (or emotionally), engaged by the actual fluid immensity of the ocean.  That approach does allow a number of tangential and potentially interesting sub-themes to emerge, however.  Anyway, the exhibition isn’t devoid of highlights so, rather than focusing on what it doesn’t do, here are a few items that did catch my attention:

Gustave Dore, 'Illustrations To 'The Rhyme Of The Ancient Mariner' By
Samuel Taylor Coleridge', Wood Engravings, 1876

Gustave Doré, ‘Illustrations to ‘The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner’ by Samuel Taylor Coleridge’, Wood Engravings, 1876:  I loved these in reproduction from an early age so it was a real pleasure to see eight of them for real.  Doré’s meticulous engravings are full of dark, gothic atmosphere, pleasing formality and memorable imagery.  His small storm-tossed vessel, dwarfed by looming waterspouts, captivated me especially.

Wolfgang Tillmans, 'Astro Crust A', Photographic Ink Jet Print, 2012

WolfgangTillmans, ‘Astro Crust A’, Photographic Ink Jet Print, 2012:  Tillmans’ large photographic image zooms in close on the crustaceous architecture of a broken cooked lobster.  Any enjoyment of the sensuous colour and craggy detail is subverted by the present of a sinister, black fly grazing on the flesh.  It transforms the image into something queasily alien and reminds us of the flyblown decay often prevalent at the sea’s margins.

Ashley Bickerton, 'Orange Shark', Polyurethane, Nylon, Cotton Webbing, Stainless Steel, Scope
Distilled Water, Coconuts & Rope, 2008

Ashley Bickerton, ‘Orange Shark’, Polyurethane, Nylon, Cotton Webbing, Stainless Steel, Scope, Distilled Water, Coconuts, Rope, 2008:  For more than one reason, sharks became something of a signifier for contemporary art around the start of the century.  Bickerton’s suspended Hammerhead has a cheerful, ironic appeal being cast in transparent purple plastic and clad in its vaguely fetishistic orange nylon jacket.  Such knowing references to the processes of industrial design are very typical of his work.  The coconuts and bottles of distilled water suspended surreally beneath it, and the general materials employed, seem to evoke certain ideas about buoyancy.

Edward Wadsworth, 'Regalia', Egg Tempera & Oil On Gessoed Canvas On Board, 1928

Edward Wadsworth, 'The Beached Margin', Tempera On Gessoed Canvas On Wood, 1937

Edward Wadsworth, ‘Regalia’, Egg Tempera & Oil On Gessoed Canvas On Board, 1928. And: ‘The Beached Margin’, Tempera On Canvas On Wood, 1937:  Although separated by nine years, both of these paintings demonstrate Wadsworth’s clear-eyed and illustrative, formal precision.  Like the self-conscious modernist he was, Wadsworth created highly artificial, nautically themed arrangements of objects in which the mechanical takes precedence over the natural.  Whilst ‘Regalia’ follows the still-life model, ‘The Beached Margin’ depicts a fictitious, sculptural beach installation including a starfish and forms resembling technical instruments.  Both are suffused with clear coastal illumination and convey a particular air of marine Surrealism.

Karl Weschke, 'Caliban', Oil On Canvas, 1974

Karl Weschke, ‘Caliban’, Oil On Canvas, 1974:  I’ve written before about my enthusiasm for Weschke’s work and his intense, Germanic take on the Cornish Coastline.  When, as a student, I met him years ago, he spoke with an impressive intensity about the destructive power of the sea that seemed a world away from the politer, more formal concerns of the other 20th Century St. Ives School painters.  This dark canvas, (which appears much lighter in reproduction,) represents his existential interest in solitary, prone figures adrift in the water or washed up on the beach.

Miller Dunn Co., Miami, Florida,  'U.S. Navy Standard Diving
Hood, Style 2', Brass & Glass, 1851, (Similar Example).

Miller Dunn Co., Miami, Florida, ‘U.S. Navy Standard Diving Hood, Style 2,’ Brass & Glass, 1851:  Although clearly a manufactured utilitarian object, this robotic brass helmet works just as well as a readymade Art object with somewhat sinister overtones.  It’s impossible not to identify with the original wearer, and the sense of claustrophobic enclosure and vulnerability within a foreign element that they must have felt on the seabed, radiates from it palpably.

J.M.W. Turner, 'Sunrise With Sea Monsters', Oil On Canvas, 1945

J.M.W. Turner, ‘Sunrise With Sea Monsters’, Oil On Canvas, 1845:  I guess, for some, this is the biggest draw in the show, given Turner’s status as a superstar of British art with mass appeal.  It’s possible to get distracted by all that and overlook just how radical a painter he was, certainly by the conventions of his time.  This is one of those typical Turner seascapes in which the nominal, (and in this case, frankly ludicrous), subject is subsumed within a nebulous world of liquid, vapour and light.  The horizon dissolves and those sketchy, nominal monstrosities become effectively irrelevant as he pulls off the stunt of transforming coloured paste into pure atmosphere once again.  Actually, although not huge, this one is pretty immersive.

'Turps Banana, Issue 13':  Pleasingly, Still Solvent

On my way out of the Contemporary I picked up a copy of the twice-yearly painting magazine, ‘Turps Banana’.  I don’t consume many art magazines but do enjoy this one, (when I find it), for being written for painters by painters and also for its total lack of advertisements.  Coincidentally, after viewing Karl Weschke’s painting, I received another reminder of my student days.  The magazine included a conversation between big-name painter Albert Irvin and Stewart Geddes – a contemporary of mine on the Fine Art course at Bristol Polytechnic in the early 80s, (at least, I'm assuming it's the same guy).  I remember Stewart as being very serious about his painting but also really entertaining company, (and especially hospitable, one particular Christmas).  It’s good to know he’s still painting and moving in pretty exalted artistic circles.

Mark Gubb, 'Nottingham Contemporary Corporate Ident.'

You can still just catch ‘Aquatopia: The Imaginary Of The Ocean Deep’, Until 22 September 2013, At Nottingham Contemporary, Weekday Cross, Nottingham, NG1 2GB

Bob Dylan: 'Another Self Portrait'

Note:  In recent music-related posts I’ve attempted to focus on some kind of subjective response to the music at least as much as any contextual considerations.  In this case, it’s impossible to escape context by the very nature of the album under discussion.

The Overall Package Is Great But Don't Give Up The Day Job, Bob

And so, the regurgitation of Bob Dylan’s hidden back catalogue rolls inexorably onward.  ‘Another Self Portrait’ is the 10th volume in the so-called ‘Official Bootleg Series’ of such recordings.  For those with any interest in the man’s work, the question must arise, will there ever be an end to all this unheard material for us to spend our hard earned on?  In fairness, though, most of these releases have been illuminating documents, often serving to fill in big gaps in Dylan’s recording history or shed new light on his existing back catalogue.  In addition to their often startling musical content, they are generally well researched and packaged with extensive written notes and archive photos.  Certainly, as such a prolific and unofficially bootlegged artist as Dylan moves deeper into his 8th decade, it seems valid to put his musical affairs into some coherent order.

Bob Dylan, 'Self Portrait', 1970.  His Original Cover Image Was Inept But Far More Effective.

Volume 10 may just be the most surprising bulletin from the archives yet, as it provides an opportunity to repair the perceived damage done by Dylan’s much-derided 1970 album, - the original ‘Self Portrait’.  It allows us to appreciate how that deeply flawed piece was, as is acknowledged, Dylan’s attempt to sabotage his unwanted messianic status.  But also, how seriously engaged he actually was with much of the music he made at that time.

It also demonstrates how the records he released during his doomed attempt at some kind of settled family life in Woodstock, might be seen as a musical continuum rather than a series of possibly perplexing, discrete statements.  ‘John Wesley Harding’, ‘Nashville Skyline’, Self Portrait’, ‘New Morning’, ‘The Basement Tapes’, and indeed, the new material on ‘More Bob Dylan Greatest Hits’, now feel like a significant period in Dylan’s artistic development and this new issue helps to tie that together even further.  I’ve always been drawn to those less well-favoured releases, (being habitually suspicious of standard critical accounts), so this is indeed welcome.

The original ‘Self Portrait’ was an over-long ragbag of mismatched, misjudged components although not without its moments of interest, resonance or even beauty.  Dylan himself claimed to have thrown everything at the wall then included it all anyway, regardless of whether or not it stuck.  It features several pieces that might have made it onto its predecessors, - the spartan ‘John Wesley Harding’ or heavily Countrified ‘Nashville Skyline’.  Sadly, most sound like they’d have been second choices on either album.  It also finds room for covers of Paul Simon and Gordon Lightfoot songs, several standards, (his ‘Blue Moon’ is astonishing), and some genuinely interesting folkloric snippets from the songbook of ‘Old Weird America’.  There are extracts from his patchy Isle of White Festival performance, with The Band in dutiful tow, and some bits of instrumental filler, (‘Wigwam’ points the way toward 1973’s soundtrack for the film ‘Pat Garrett & Billy The Kid’, (an album I love).  It includes some truly bizarre arrangements with lush strings and crooned backing vocals and a variety of performance and singing styles, (including that smooth Nashville voice).  That the album opens with something resembling a heavily orchestrated opening title theme, featuring all female voices, (‘All the tired Horses’), underlines that this was far from standard Dylan fare.  I can only imagine what dedicated Bobcats made of it in 1970 [1.].

Dylan Walks Back Into Town.

‘Another Self Portrait’ scores big by reinstating several of the original’s key songs, either as alternative takes or by removing the overdubs that had lent them a faintly ludicrous flavour.  It’s fair to say that, in every case these versions feel fresher, and far more sincere.  Songs like ‘Little Sadie’, ‘Days Of 49’, ‘Alberta #3’ or ‘Belle Isle’, benefit massively from these more committed performances and simpler arrangements featuring Guitarist David Bromberg and pianist Al Kooper.  Dylan sounds engaged with the material and there’s a real sense that he was drawing on his vast knowledge of American folk tradition to find new ways forward in his own art.  This wasn’t a case of co-opting traditional forms for the protest movement, as before, but a humbler process of reintegrating his own practice into the larger tradition that shaped him and the country he travelled, long before he was an entertainment big shot or ‘The Voice of a Generation’.  

If that was an intrinsically conservative impulse, we should hardly be surprised.  Dylan’s own creative trajectory throughout the 60s was famously steep and the period of social and artistic change for which he became a figurehead had already proved unsustainable.  He had effectively burned out around the time of his mysterious motorcycle accident in 1966, and now, so had the decade that spawned his art.  His desire to set up home with his young family in a rural backwater, away from public scrutiny, and explore more rooted musical forms, is understandable. 

Bob Dylan & The Band, 'The Basement Tapes', 1967/75

‘The Basement Tapes’ that he’d recorded with The Band in Woodstock in 1967 [2.] showed there was a rich seam of sounds and imagery to be found within the old music and ‘Nashville Skyline’ demonstrated that Dylan was capable of finding deeper value in an unfashionable, ‘down home’ style.  This new archival release underlines that by including unreleased and alternative takes from both those sets.  Unfortunately, nothing he’d yet tried in Woodstock could shake off the burdensome public profile and weight of expectation on Dylan’s shoulders.  If the combination of inferior versions, eccentric material and deliberately contrary artistic choices on ‘Self Portrait’ couldn’t do it, what would?

Bob Dylan, 'Nashville Skyline', 1969

Yet, we can now see that Dylan didn’t throw everything at the wall.  ‘Another Self Portrait’ features numerous unreleased cuts from the original sessions and I think the inclusion of pretty much any of them would have made the original album stronger.  To my ear his rendition of the traditional ‘Spanish Is The Loving Tongue’ is amongst the most sensitive things he ever recorded, whilst ‘Annie’s Going To Sing Her Song’, ‘Railroad Bill’, ‘Thirsty Boots’, ‘This Evening So Soon’, ‘These Hands’ and ‘Tattle O’Day’ all benefit from strong performances with Bob in fine voice.  ‘House Carpenter’ is a familiar folk standard that he attacks with a swing and totally inhabits.

Just four months after ‘Self Portrait’ appeared, Dylan released ‘New Morning’, an album that, (despite an overtly religious ending), has always been among my favourites from his discography.  It was essentially cut from the same cloth of ongoing recording sessions as its predecessor but is everything that record wasn’t.  Whilst still stylistically varied, this one hangs together as a unit and, above all, sounds like a Bob Dylan album.  It’s pervaded by a strongly reflective, Gospel sensibility and, for me, is the strongest distillation of Dylan’s search for a cleaner, more honest mode of existence.  The motivation behind it seems genuine and personal.

Bob Dylan, 'New Morning', 1970

Hence, it is the inclusion of alternative and unreleased items from that album on this new collection that possibly fascinate me most of all.  The two dramatically different versions of ‘I Went To See The Gypsy’, are terrific, - not better than the album version, just different.  ‘Sign On The Window’ is a song I would happily have played at my funeral and has always felt like one of the purest, most reflective things Dylan ever did.  Strange then, to discover that he once contemplated kitting it out with lush orchestration, prominent organ stabs and a cascading harp.

In a similar fashion, we can hear how the joyous title track on ‘New Morning’ actually benefitted from the omission of the forceful horns and superfluous string section featured in this arrangement.  There’s nothing actually wrong with the slow paced version of ‘If Dogs Run Free’ here but pleasingly, I now find that the choice of the eccentric scat-jazz version on the finished album is fully justified.  It really comes to life there.  The same is essentially true of ‘Time Passes Slowly’, - a song that migrated from the two dramatically different versions featured here to the final album version’s almost crystalline evocation of a simple life well spent.

Ultimately, I find ‘Another Self Portrait’ fulfills it’s brief admirably.  It provides us with a wealth of evidence that, as the 1960s rolled over into the 70s, Bob Dylan was actually retooling both his art and his entire way of life, not just raking up disappointing scraps from a prolonged sabbatical.  If ‘Self Portrait’ was a dismissive diversion tactic in the midst of that period, the music here proves that, had Dylan chosen, it might have been a much stronger and wholehearted, condensed statement.  We can also see how the material that coalesced into ‘New Morning’ was subsequently refined and pared back to achieve the simple beauty it eventually achieved.

Dylan Attempts To Mend Some Fences

I think that, for all its inherent strengths and weaknesses, an important reason I've stuck with Bob Dylan’s music over the years is its consistent ability to fuse art with the unfolding drama of one man’s life without excessive recourse to autobiography.  Amongst the woods of upstate New York he may have shed his previous social engagement, or subsequent drug-fuelled electricity, but was in search of something more cleansing and infused with personal integrity.  I never fail to be moved by the following lines from ‘Sign On The Window’.  They cut through the merely trite to illustrate not only Dylan's state of mind but a more universal impulse also:

“Build me a cabin in Utah

Marry me a wife, catch rainbow trout

Have a bunch of kids who’ll call me 'Pa'

That must be what it’s all about

That must be what it’s all about” [3.].

[1.]:  Dylan Aficionado, Greil Marcus famously began his review of 'Self Portrait' with the words, "What's this shit?".  'Self Portrait No. 25', New York, Rolling Stone Magazine, June 1970.

[2.]:  Bob Dylan & The Band, 'The Basement Tapes', CBS Records, 1975.  This extensive catalogue of original and traditional material was recorded in the basement of 'Big Pink', (The Band's house in Woodstock), following Dylan's bike crash.  Originally attended as demos. for other artists to sing, it has since been cited as a milestone in Dylan's discography and major influence on Folk Rock on both sides of The Atlantic.  The official double album released in 1975, (with memorable artwork), is only a small selection of the material recorded in 1967.

[3.]:  Bob Dylan, 'Sign On The Window', Published: Big Sky Music, 1970.

Perforated 1

It's interesting how...

New Basford, Nottingham, February 2009

...the same things keep cropping up...

Digbeth, Birmingham, August, 2013