James Ballaney’s abstract paintings were SO absorbing. The paint seems to move across the canvas almost primordially, to be interpreted like a Rorschach ink blot, dependent on each individual’s sub-conscious interpretations. In the painting immediately below I see birds, alternately soaring and plummeting through the air. The red is passionate and energetic, a life blood, the paint spread on the canvas with such vigour, you sense these creatures' movements. In paintings such as this I can understand why Bellaney considers paint a "medium for transcendence"; the paintings go beyond words to feeling, a mood, a sense of life and its myriad experiences. It is intuitive rather than necessarily intellectual or theoretical.
Due to their abstract nature I also found these works a relief from the images we are constantly bombarded with in modern-day society. As James states, "My art does not challenge... ideas of beauty but give[s] the viewer a sensory experience similar to a sunset or bomb fire; it's an escape away from the images that have been photo-shopped to rid of the so-called human imperfections."
Some of the works, however, were less provocative, such as the third painting depicted here, intended to be representative of climate change. I didn't really feel I got a sense of the implications of this in the work; flooded islands, the acidification of the sea, the emergence of heretofore hibernating diseases and the overall transformation of our environment. I could see how you could have a sense of this latter aspect through the swooping movement of the paint, but the final product seems inadequate when compared to the expansive, world-changing nature of the work's title.
This work by Bianca Burgess-Heald makes me so uncomfortable. Even though it's beautiful and the bees were collected after they had already died, the idea of having this kind of death around my neck like that is just awful. But then, we still wear fur. In the latter instance we objectify the animal, whereas here you can't really escape the realisation that this was once a living being. The bees were displayed at about chest level, allowing one to really come close and examine them intimately; their veins, fuzz and miniscule legs. As with any dead creature there was a sadness in this which also brought to mind the mass disappearance of bees we are experiencing around the world.
Unlike the other works at SITE, which were displayed in your typical gallery-style format, Spencer Hall maintained his studio as is; drawings, comics and writing on the walls, videos playing and the artist himself seated at a desk covered in zines, ready to discuss any aspect of his work. This approach and the way in which it was executed was inventive in the interaction it facilitated, an imaginative take on the premise of SITE. Hall also provided his essay How and Why, in which he makes the point that no creative instinct should be ignored. Too often we choose not to follow our inspiration or ideas because we consider they won’t be successful, others won’t respond well, or they are simply ‘bad’. In doing so we “[negate] a whole realm of possibilities… the fact that you have even come up with the idea in the first place means that there is a kernel or something within it that is relevant enough for you to have thought of it.”
The creativity that Spencer's work embodies really draws one in and you have the sense he is really living it, engaging with art in a manner simultaneously humorous and yet serious. The amount of work his studio contained also manifested his prolific nature, how many drawings he's made, conversations he's engaged in, from gig posters to comics, flims to zines, books to poetry. I especially liked the fact that on the wall of the studio he stuck up the conversations he's had with individuals via the letters section of Critic magazine. The manner in which such people attack contributors to Critic has often riled me. Why not attempt to instigate a discussion or ask questions, as opposed to resorting to attacks and personal insults?
Lucy Parson's three watercolour works were spectacular (she also utilised felt-tip pens, collage and plastic gems). Delight references the fountain from Hieronymus Bosch’s triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights, Babble Peter Bruegal's The Tower of Babel and Excess the Royal Warrant. However these symbols, which were either markers of excellence in High European culture (in the case of the Royal Warrant) or which originate from some of the art historical canon’s highest level INDISPUTABLY-ART artworks, are represented via the medium of watercolour, traditionally conceived of as a ‘lower’ art form. The sheer quality of the work, however, belies this traditional conception of inferiority, causing us to question our understandings of artistic standards and medium, to delightful effect.
Lucy Parson's three watercolour works were spectacular (she also utilised felt-tip pens, collage and plastic gems). Delight references the fountain from Hieronymus Bosch’s triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights, Babble Peter Bruegal's The Tower of Babel and Excess the Royal Warrant. However these symbols, which were either markers of excellence in High European culture (in the case of the Royal Warrant) or which originate from some of the art historical canon’s highest level INDISPUTABLY-ART artworks, are represented via the medium of watercolour, traditionally conceived of as a ‘lower’ art form. The sheer quality of the work, however, belies this traditional conception of inferiority, causing us to question our understandings of artistic standards and medium, to delightful effect.
Now, the Royal Warrant might seem a bit of place considering it's not referencing a painting, yet it fits within the context of her other works as all of them are aimed at blurring "the lines between European High Culture and today's very materialistic Western culture." So for instance, the Royal Warrant was originally intended to signify excellence and was an honour for any provider of goods or services to receive. The Queen has, however, in recent years provided the Royal Warrant to corporations such as Coca-Cola International Sales Limited, Schweppes Holdings Limited and Kelloggs. As Lucy states, "By enlarging the Royal Warrant and adorning it with plastic gems and other imagery inspired by today's popular culture (rendered with felt tip pens which will fade) I hoped to make a comment on our notion of product quality today and its link with consumerism and capitalism." I.e, how inferior product quality (in large part brought about by planned and perceived obsolescence), represented by the fading nature of the felt-tip pens, is intrinsic to the throw-away culture of rampant consumerism (a product of capitalism) that dominates the world today.
The works are essentially a commentary on both power and indulgence. We're drawn to them in the same way we're drawn to advertising; through spectacle, a tool of capitalism which yields significant influence over 'the masses'. The power dynamic in European High Culture was no different; the Royal Warrant represents the union of Scotland and England wherein King James "exploited faith and hoped to validate his authority" (i.e. via spectacle); it is this decadence that the central panel of Bosch's painting warns us against and the story of the tower of Babel was a spectacular tale which warned the masses against challenging God (and by extension the authorities in power, appointed by God).
Again, I consider the works an example of spectacular artistic ability. However, I'm not sure whether the link between power/influence in European High Culture and consumerism/capitalism today is made clearly enough and even if it is, what we are to draw from it. Are we meant to learn from the mistakes of the past? Is it to instigate political change, or simply self-reflection? Whether art can actually cause substantial political upheaval is questionable but that it encourages and inspires us to consider the world on an individual level is, in my opinion, significant enough.
Delight
Delight
Babble
Excess
This work by Toby Smith resonated with me to some extent, perhaps simply due to the fact that I HATE TV. In fact, I shouldn't even call it that. As Nick Valensi avers, 'TV' is a nickname and those are for friends and family only.
The artist's statement is as follows: "The media choose what they want to broadcast and as a result content is filtered and adulterated. This filtering and adulteration is a form of power and control." According to the artist, the work also provides a commentary on the "role of technology in our modern society. The obsolete is important for me - the televisions are defunct, out-of-date and no longer serve the purpose they were once made for."
The number of televisions and their glaring quality, emblazzoned with such statements as 'this is truth', does relate the 'shit' that is television to some extent. And this is a worthy topic for commentary. Yet the work fails to entirely capture the abrasive and manipulative nature of television, as well as our addiction and attraction to it. The incessent infomercials, advertisements (CARPETS, CARPETS, 60, 70, 80, 90 PERCENT OFF!!!!!!!), TV shows used to manipulate and sell us even more, representing only a narrow perspective of the world, chosen by the creators themselves. So too, the TVs may be obsolete, but so what? Why is this significant? Why should I care? Because this changing technology facilitates our contemporary and often highly damaging obsession with consumerism? A culture changing so fast it can't keep up with itself? The artist doesn't really seem to elaborate on this particular premise in the work.
I love this work by Don Myers. It's like that graffiti that used to be outside New World supermarket in Roslyn; 'the tension is killing me, I hope it never ends', or something like that.
Teacups are a motif of settler culture in New Zealand, as the British brought this beverage here in the 1800s. And Lynda McNamara's presentation of them below relates the precariousness inherent in the interaction of cultures when one country colonises another. Interestingly, a viewer bumped into the work causing some of the cups to break, exhibiting an aspect of the art/viewer relationship that I still see all the time at the DPAG (Dunedin Public Art Gallery for future reference). Some people just seem to have a different concept of space and less sensitivity to their surroundings. But a lot of the time it's simply a manifestation of peoples' general attitude to art; confusion and amusement to the point of disregard. I can step over this, I can touch that, dip my finger into this liquid, touch an oil painting, PICK UP AN AXE FROM A PIECE OF INSTALLATION ART AND PRETEND TO ATTACK MY GIRLFRIEND WITH IT???? In any case, I love this piece. There's a sort of unbalanced, precarious ambiguity to it that really intrigues me.
I find the below work by Susan Vidler so evocative. My immediate impression was that it relates the suppression of woman, both past and present, despite their power and individual character. Over these distinctive faces white veils are painted, perhaps representative of the ideas of purity and chastity that have been imposed on woman over the centuries. But upon further consideration I really feel the work is about SO much more than just this 'feminist' interpretation. It is also, perhaps above all, a celebration of woman; their beauty, femininity and delicacy but also their intelligence, strength and uniqueness. And yet the work seems to play with this balance. The mouth of one woman, for instance, is covered in a veil which can represent both the silencing of women, but also their mystery. A mirror is located at the end of this pathway, encouraging us both to question how far we've come as well as to consider our own unique beauty as women.
I mention a few works, but the whole exhibition was impressive and again, SO diverse. Given the school’s philosophy of encouraging students to develop their own unique practice, this comes as no surprise.
Also, Ted had an awesome jersey.
