8 posts tagged “art”
Hang around outside until they can bother their arses to open up; step over the cans and bottles from last night's piss-up; root under the unmanned information desk to try and find some details; rely on your phone's gps to find your way around the building - and it's not a bad show............
For me, this was probably the stand-out piece.
I had enjoyed last year's show, so was hoping for some interesting work here. This piece in particular was very strong. The artist pasted a series of posters to the wall, like an advertising hoarding, and then ripped them off to make the image.
After the rather bland London Art Fair, this is far more interesting. A group of young students and graduates exhibiting in the basement of Shoreditch Town Hall
Set in the evocative surroundings of the Business Design Centre, Islington, The London Art Fair occupies the space between December's 'Mental Health Today' and February's 'Legal IT 08'.
It would probably be more effective if they arranged the work by colour palette, making it easier for visitors who wanted to pick up something in a taupe, or mauve; to go with whatever interior redesign they were having done at the moment.
This oversight may account for the fact that the work isn't selling. It's real 'easy listening' stuff, but there's a marked absence of red dots. Chatting to the exhibitors, there wasn't a great deal of optimism for 08 being as profitable as 07.
It wasn't a completely wasted trip though. I didn't bring home the Bacon. But I did pick up a rather lovely gallery owner....
Firstly, to Chelsea for the Graduate show. It's the usual organisational chaos. Work scattered throughout the rabbit warren of the college. But, there's some good stuff here, along with some depressingly commercial pieces that wouldn't look out of place in Heals. Next to Goldsmiths. As I am so 21st century, I'd dispensed with the A2Z, planning to rely on the gps in my phone. It's really simple, all you need to do is just stand still for 5 minutes holding your phone out, while it acquires the satellites, then you're good to go. The slight flaw in this plan being that I'm in New Cross, and the only thing that's going to get acquired is my phone. Thankfully there's enough people who look sufficiently out of place I can follow them to the school. And it's an excellent show. The aforementioned Anne Bland piece deserves to get the same recognition Katie Paterson did at Slade. But there's a range of other graduates producing some very strong work - Laura Guske McLardy might want to have a word with Antony Gormley. Across town, to the more upmarket surroundings of the Royal Academy Schools. For a show that leaves me utterly cold. It's all technically excellent, but I cannot warm to any of it. There's enough little red dots to show I'm in the minority taking that view; and these alumni are bound to be a good investment, but I just don't like it. Then over to the RCA sculpture department - GPS still fucked, so I have to fall back on the Knowledge. The cabby is terribly amused by the situation - I've arranged meetings with a couple of recent graduates for my own little session of Art Idol. A chance to chat to people I liked at the degree show, and see what their potential is. It feels a bit like picking a band, same sort of judgements. And interestingly, it's the one who's work I had loved in the show who doesn't really make the cut. Finally, to the Barbican, for 'Panic Attack! Art in the Punk Years'. Which is enormously disappointing. Particularly coming so soon after the lackluster 'Secret Public' at the ICA. I cannot understand how hard it is to curate a decent exhibition based around such exciting periods of time.
So, I'm in a squat in Southwark. I decline the offer of tea - the kitchen would make Withnail baulk. And it's occasionally difficult to see where the art ends, and the building begins, but they're a decent bunch of young graduates, looking to make their mark. I don't, in all honesty, care for any of the work; but I will check them out again in a few months. And it strikes me that this, may be the future of art marketing. Patrons, palates jaded by the bourgeoisie salons of Cork St can breathe in the stench of creativity, in some artfully dressed garret; with artists starved to order: "look darling, that one is positively emaciated, lets buy his work"