Saturday, 25 July 2009

ARTeFact o' the Week! Learning about the world, one artwork at a time

Studio Job's Robber Baron table lamp, 2006 First things first. Did some insane couple really name their son 'Studio Job'? Is this the necessary stroke of genius that ensures a kid will grow up to be rich and famous?? Unfortunately, this isn't the case. Well maybe we should name our children Art Mogul or Ty Coon, but the success of this is yet to be proven. (Hieronymus Bosch?) Studio Job is a Dutch design studio created by Job Smeets in 1998, and later joined by Nynke Tynagel, as well as a number of assistants. Yeah, a little disappointing, but Job and Nynke's names are still under suspicion as the sole justification of their artistic creativity. On to the art. As we have seen on LAR, the Robber Baron series is a set of interior pieces that both glorifies and shames the ignoble lives of 19th century American tycoons. The Robber Baron table lamp is one such piece, which follows the criteria as a combined effort of great architectural achievements, stacking the Parthenon, Empire State Building and St Peter's Basilica. It is all black except for the light emitting from within the building, and the bronze cloud ring from which the building triumphantly towers through and above. Atop the structure is the Empire State Building's famous spire. From this we see, attached by its nose, a Zeppelin-like airship. When the Empire State Building was built, this spire was intended to act as a moor for such airships. This proved impractical because of the turbulent updrafts caused by the buildings height. While the Robber Baron table lamp symbolizes man's great achievements from the ancients to modern day, the inclusion of the airship, a technological failure, casts an ironic doubt on these accomplishments. With failed technology came the downfall of many American fatcats, along with their dreams, money and power. Photo Credit: vam.ac.uk

Friday, 24 July 2009

Victoria & Albert: Telling Tales - Fantasy and Fear in Contemporary Design

In every decade of the last century, the top designers have exhibited pieces of exceptional flair, often reflecting their personality, as well as the times. In recent years, modern designers have produced increasingly personal and imaginative objects, to the point that they are being sold as either unique or limited edition pieces. While this trend has produced household objects of enormous aesthetic appeal, many of these objects are being seriously questioned of their functionality. The V&A's Telling Tales presents us with a variety of such designer pieces, every one of which contributes to the question of art or design. The exhibition addresses this through a number of European designers' works, all of which are related to a theme of story telling that has been divided into three subgenres. Frolicking through The Forest Glade is a seemingly lighthearted experience, tainted by some sort of underlying deceit, while The Enchanted Castle exudes eeriness, with its grandfather clock tunes and distorted mirrors. The mood of Heaven and Hell is disconcerting, not the least because the objects are struggling to be judged as design. Maarten Baas's Sculpt wardrobe, 2007: A wise fashionista once told me, "it is a designer's job to bring style to function." This piece's skewed shape and rippled sides give the impression it could have been chiseled out of a cliff side. It's like the warped furniture we occasionally saw in the distorted realities of Calvin & Hobbes. The important point to Sculpt wardrobe is that it maintains its purpose, while offering a strikingly unusual style. Albeit for a caveman. Tord Boontje's The Fig Leaf wardrobe, 2008: Boontje attributes the inspiration of this piece to the Garden of Eden. While this influence is evident, I think you'll find this on a theater set before it makes it into someones bedroom. Boontje's work is an example of a contemporary designer taking a step beyond his means. Studio Job's Robber Baron table, 2006: The Robber Baron series aims to both "celebrate and shame" the 19th century American tycoons, who both made and spent excessive amounts of money. Robber Baron table embodies a surreal interior piece of one such fat cat. The piece is comprised of a black factory with four smoke stacks, from which a billowing cloud of gilded pollution flattens as the surface of a coffee table. Part of five pieces in the series (all present at the V&A), Studio Job's Robber Baron series demonstrates a virtuoso ability to combine functional design with autonomous art, and is alone worth a visit to this exhibition. Niels van Eijk's 'Moulded Mole' slippers, 2004: The use of animal skin in the fashion industry is a divided affair. Van Eijk bluntly raises the debate in his refusal to remove any external features of the mole (eyes, nose, mouth, feet) in creating his 'Moulded Mole' slippers. In the 1850's the South Kensington Museum (now the V&A) was opened as a museum for the people (aka the working classes). Its focus on arts and crafts, as well as design, was intended to uplift the standards and taste of the masses. After seeing this exhibition and knowing the government still backs the V&A for its original values, I no longer feel embarrassed to bring my fishflops into town. Dates: Until October 18th, 2009 Admission: Free Tube Stop: South Kensington (District and Circle lines) Notes: 5 minute walk. Photo Credits: Maarten van Houten (Sculpt wardrobe), R. Kot (Robber Baron), vam.ac.uk

Tuesday, 21 July 2009

The Hayward Gallery - Walking In My Mind

Don't touch! Really? Hopefully you wouldn't dream of getting hands-on in an Old Masters gallery, but when it comes to modern and contemporary galleries the temptations have grown more common, and with it, these sorts of reprimands. The boundaries of an artist's freedom within a museum have expanded exponentially in the last century, so to should the freedom of the spectator. The Hayward Gallery's most recent exhibition "Walking In My Mind" invites you to 'adventure into the artist's mind,' by walking amidst Yayoi Kusama's polka-dotted hallucinations (above) or meandering through Thomas Hirschhorn's (literally) cavernous thoughts. If you savor the surreal then this exhibition will thrill you. Charles Avery's surreal creations are truly mythical. His work is entirely based upon the objects, people, and nature of an imaginative island. Seen through the eyes of an unidentified explorer, the spectator examines a variety of island specimen: rockmice, a solopsist (as well as the solipsist's hat), and The Eternity Chamber. The surreal continues with English artist Keith Tyson's studio wall drawings (below). Brought together by a uniform size, Tyson's pictures are gridded across three walls as three stacked rows. Tyson draws from his own ideas and emotions, the emotions of those around him, and the effects of significant events going on in the outside world. The results, which we now witness, take us on a visual trip into his studio, his laboratory, and his mind. The clutter of the unconscious is brought forth to the conscious in Jason Rhoades Creation Myth (1998). The spectator is made to snake around an enormous conglomerate of stacked tables decorated with red, fabric tunnels, TVs, a train carrying a stuffed-animal snake, stacked magazines, cameras, buckets, shredded paper, a surplus of wires and countless other seemingly random items. Creation Myth is about the mind as a source of creation and how it arbitrarily files our thoughts away, eventually helping us to create more. As I sauntered around Creation Myth, I came across a small step ladder upon which sat a little black box adorned with a shiny red button, which appeared to be connected to one giant speaker. Quick to ignore my colleague's advice, I pressed the button. A gallery assistant immediately protested, announcing that the button was not meant for pressing, and that any sound I heard as a result of pressing the button was merely a coincidence. I fought back, declaring the universal truth that "buttons are made for pressing." My associate wisely concluded that to prevent this from happening again, the gallery ought to cover the button with a piece of cloth or even a hanky. The assistant didn't think much of either of us. Whether the artist meant this or not, the addition of a button to his installation did exactly as his work dictates: it creates. Not only did it create a string of events, it created a memory that was stored away in the mind, ready to benefit a future creation. Dates: Walking In My Mind - until 6th September 2009 Admission: £9, £8 for 60+, £6 for students, £4.50 for 12-18, free for under 12 Tube Stop: Waterloo (Jubilee, Northern, and Bakerloo lines, National Rail), Embankment (Circle, District, Northern, and Bakerloo lines) Notes: 5 minute walk from Waterloo. From Embankment: 10 minute walk. Cross walking bridge immediately at entrance of station, once across turn left, walking along the river for 1 minute. minute walk. Photo Credits: guardian.co.uk

Friday, 17 July 2009

Saatchi Gallery - Abstract America: New Painting and Sculpture

Kristen Baker's The Raft of Perseus (2006)

The 'abstract' genre does not encompass all of the works on display in Charles Saatchi's latest exhibition, but that does not prove to be an issue in this highly entertaining contemporary art gallery. The gallery displays an array of media, which constantly refreshes the mind and reengages the viewer. Whether you are amused by Aaron Young’s subliminal abstract print or in awe with Peter Coffin’s ludicrous spiral staircase, this free exhibition will feel like time well spent.

It seems a contemporary art exhibition focusing on American artists wouldn't be complete with out a bit of NASCAR racing. Connecticut-born artist, Kristin Baker, is an enthusiast for racing. This can be seen in Washzert Suisse (2005), an acrylic painting of a Formula 1 car speeding ahead through a blaze of vivid, fractured colors. Think futurism at lightspeed. The quality of Baker's work is in her desire for action, adrenaline and drama, which she brilliantly reflects in a harmonizing synthesis of her style and subject matter.

Gallery 2 introduces you to the San Francisco born artist, Aaron Young, whose performance pieces have gained attention for his inclination to use motorcycles as his brush. Performance artists have often viewed the leftovers of their performances as an artwork independent of the event itself. Here we see this with The Young And The Driftless (2007), a 7 ft high rectangle of glass that Young stood in front of, while a motorcyclist sped around a gallery burning rubber in his face. As the glass was coated in glue, the result of the flying rubber was a ghostly portrait of the artist.

Adjacent to this is an enormous, black, plywood panel, covered with snaking neon orange tubes, that appears to be one of those indecipherable magnified photos of an amino acid straight out of your school biology book. It’s awesome to find out that these glowworms are the result of 12 motorcycles revving and screeching across a series of these plywood panels, articulating the artist's intention of expanding on Jackson Pollock's subconscious drip-painting style. Video of Aaron Young's Greeting Card (2007) Dates: Abstract America- until 17th January 2010 Admission: Free Tube stop: Sloane Square (District and Circle lines) Notes: 10 minute walk from station. Recommend purchasing 'Picture By Picture Guide' (1.50). For your own amusement, be sure to come to your own conclusions before reading about an artwork.

(Photo Credit: independent.co.uk)