Tag Archives: Arte Povera

Spiked on the way to Vegas

8 Sep

Wednesday was one of those amazing late summer days and I managed to arrange my meetings at Aqua for most of the afternoon – the sunniest spot in town – which meant I was perfectly placed for cocktail hour.

Aqua on Argyll Street.  Image via www.cntraveller.com

When the sun started to set and there was no more basking to be done, I headed up the road to Dering Street for the Ronchini Gallery’s latest exhibition.  TIME, after TIME explores similarities between generations of artists, featuring a range of contemporary Americans alongside Italian artists from the 1950s, 60s and 70s including Michelangelo Pistoletto, Alighiero Boetti and Alberto Burri.  Many young American artists have been influenced by Italian movements and consciously, or subconsciously, reference Arte Povera in their works.

TIME, after TIME at Ronchini Gallery. Own photograph.

Individually some of the works are fantastic.  Some, however, are not.  The concept of the exhibition is clever and it may well be more effective when the gallery is empty.  The curation does draw intriguing parallels between seemingly contrasting pieces and the juxtapositions are provocative.

But when the gallery was busy during the private view, the exhibition became somewhat lost and messy.

TIME, after TIME at Ronchini Gallery. Own photograph.

Continuing with this Arte Povera theme, next on our list was Haunch of Venison’s latest Giuseppe Penone exhibition.  Haunch had a Penone exhibition at their old Burlington Gardens gallery last summer.  This one presents a range of new drawings – works on paper have always been central to Penone’s work and, whether as independent works or preliminary pieces, his drawings are all connected by ideas of touch, surface and growth.  Penone compares the act of drawing to the growth of a tree and he uses his fingerprints to represent the tree and to create a symbol of touch.  By pressing a single thumbprint onto the paper he creates marks that recall the age rings of a tree.

Giuseppe Penone at Haunch of Venison on Eastcastle Street. Own photograph.

The exhibition also includes one sculpture Un anno di cera ricopre lo spazio di luce (One year of wax covers the space of light) which shows a hollow tree trunk.  The work relates to Penone’s new commission which is currently on show at the Whitechapel Gallery (I’ve yet to visit) – a hollow inverted tree lined with gold, its surface covered with a layer of the artists fingerprints.

I like Penone’s work but I wasn’t blown away by this exhibition.  This has been a common problem of late, not just at Haunch and not just for me.  There are far too many exhibitions that don’t quite go far enough to make their mark and, although they include some great works, aren’t memorable for the right reasons.  The Giuseppe Penone exhibition can seem a little bland on first viewing but it did grow on me the more time I spent in the gallery.  I find his drawings are more engaging when seen alongside his sculpture but the limited space makes this impossible.

The gallery has been turned into one main space with a very narrow section at the end for this exhibition, a layout that is particularly effective for this show and really increases the feeling of movement around the gallery.

Giuseppe Penone at Haunch of Venison on Eastcastle Street. Own photograph.

Although the sun had gone, it was still hot and my shoes weren’t the best choice for such weather.  Now, you’ve all heard of people having injuries from wearing silly shoes –blisters, twisted ankles and the like but I can beat all of them.  These shoes can only be described as weapons.  I have always walked with my ankles close together – it’s elegant, especially when wearing a dress and because I’m a tango dancer it’s second nature; it has been drilled into me that your ankles should brush past each other at every step.  So, as I sashayed down the street, I forgot about my footwear and as my ankles gracefully brushed past each other, the spikes from my heels hit skin and I managed to spike myself.  I don’t think many people can say they have gashed open their ankles due to the killer bits sticking out of their shoes.

So after wiping the blood from my feet, we wandered (slowly!) to the last gallery on my list which was the Josh Lilley Gallery.  I’m sad to say I’ve missed a couple of their recent exhibitions but I’m glad I made it to this one as it was easily the highlight of my night.

Hang Up at Josh Lilley Gallery.  Image via www.joshlilleygallery.com

Hang Up is a group exhibition where the works blend so seamlessly together, discussing the potential of materiality, that you’d be forgiven for thinking this was a solo show – OK, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration but it gives you an idea of the purity of the hang.  That is the curatorial talent that Lilley has in bringing together artists; there are no uncomfortable pairings here but this is another beautifully curated show, exploring how the use of fabric, pattern and traditional designs allow for an engagement with each artist’s cultural, political, economic and conceptual process.

Hang Up at Josh Lilley Gallery.  Image via www.joshlilleygallery.com

Hang Up¸ the exhibition’s title, comes from a seminal work by Eva Hesse where by attaching a long metal rod to a canvas she transformed a painting into a sculpture.  This is recalled in the works upstairs where Liam Everett makes use of non-traditional processes with such materials as salt, alcohol, lemon and sunlight in order to force changes onto his surfaces.  The works are supported in non-traditional ways using leaning poplar beams and other such devices.

Liam Everett’s works at Josh Lilley Gallery.  Image via www.joshlilleygallery.com

Ellen Lesperance uses gouache and graphite on tea-stained paper to depict motifs that highlight power struggles and women’s rights.  Her works become odes to those who use fabric and design as a means of self-expression and liberation.  The two paintings here, shown alongside a knitted work, depict sweater patterns that function as memorials to individuals committed to fighting for causes greater than themselves.  Not only are the works perfectly executed but they are very moving and emotive.

Work by Ellen Lesperance. Own photograph.

The textures of Ruairiadh O’Connell’s works draw us in closer, using images of carpet designs from the biggest casinos in Vegas, laying them as silkscreen images onto wax-filled steel panels.  He kneads and manipulates the wax before it sets, recalling the techniques used by masseurs in casino complexes to relax visitors in order that they spend more money.

Ruairiadh O’Connell’s wax works downstairs at Josh Lilley Gallery. Own photograph.

Josh Lilley never disappoints and this is one of his most striking exhibitions to date.  It was time for dinner and as our reservation at Brasserie Zédel wasn’t for another hour or so we headed to their Bar Américain.  It was like stepping into another world, into Vegas – or maybe that was the influence of O’Connell!

TIME, after TIME is at Ronchini Gallery until 4th October 2012, www.ronchinigallery.comGiuseppe Penone is at Haunch of Venison on Eastcastle Street until 6th October 2012, www.haunchofvenison.comHang Up is at Josh Lilley Gallery until 5th October 2012, www.joshlilleygallery.com.

A Game Plan with No Energy – Boetti at Tate Modern

4 Mar

It has been nearly a week since I visited the Alighiero Boetti exhibition at Tate Modern.  Generally, I like to write about exhibitions as soon as possible but, for this, I needed time to digest.  I felt thoroughly bamboozled by parts of the show.  To be honest, I still do.

Boetti is one of the most influential Italian artists of the 20th century, strongly associated with the Arte Povera movement of the late 1960s (which he then rejected in 1969 with his work Niente da vedere niente da nascondere).  The exhibition begins with his Arte Povera objects at a time when he was experimenting with the figure and identity of the artist.  Taking this to extremes, Boetti began to represent himself as split in two, as twins called Alighiero E Boetti.

In the background – Alighiero Boetti, Niente da vedere niente da nascondere, 1969. Own photograph.

The exhibition highlights Boetti’s engagement with travel, geopolitics, games, numbers, words, dates, sequences, systems… with far too many things in fact.  It is very hard to tie Boetti down; throughout his career, he always jumped around, never remaining in one place for long and, for this reason, after the second room there is no route around the exhibition.  Instead, it is structured by ideas rather than arranged chronologically.  Game Plan is playful and conceptual, aiming to be the exact manifestation of the artist himself.

Game Plan at Tate Modern. Own photograph.

Boetti is most widely-known for his maps where each country is created using the colours and symbols of its flag.  From June 1967, not having any interest in learning the skill himself, Boetti asked his wife to embroider the shapes for him.  When travelling, he commissioned local craftswomen as he was intrigued by the female approach to colour.  At one point, supposedly, the embroiderers did not recognise the ocean as an ocean and used a colour that was more plentiful in their supplies.  After this time he gave them leeway to choose the colours they preferred for the seas; the values of the locals are woven into the pictures along with the artist’s ideas.  Boetti was fascinated by systems of which maps are the very embodiment, the human method of representing the world through shapes and symbolic colours.  At the heart of this exhibition are 12 maps embroidered in his characteristic, vivid colours.  This room is certainly the highlight of the exhibition and one where we most coherently get a sense of Boetti’s personality and ideals.

Alighiero Boetti, Mappa, 1971-72. Own photograph.

There are other well-known highlights; his 1973 work ordine e disordine covers a whole wall with a hundred embroidered squares featuring the randomly-dispersed phrase.   Also included are his monumental embroideries and a book created in an attempt to classify the thousand longest rivers in the world.  Shown in a room with windows, through which it’s possible to see the Thames, the hangings take a vivid actuality with their sense of movement and research mirrored by the flowing fluvial contours outside.

Alighiero Boetti,Ordine e Disordine, 1973. Own photograph.

I found his postal works particularly interesting; in 1969, Boetti selected 25 characters to be part of his Viaggi  Postali.  He created 25 different journeys.  The first envelopes were sent to the first addresses but were obviously returned to sender as the addressee didn’t live there.  Boetti photocopied both sides of the envelope and filed the copies in grey folders.  The original envelopes were then placed in larger envelopes and sent to the second address.  And so the same thing would continue as part of Boetti’s own strange game.  19 envelopes remain in the final work, the others having got lost on their travels.

Alighiero Boetti,Viaggi Postali, 1969-70. Own photograph.

And then there’s the work generating most attention – his Lampada Annuale, a black box holding a single light bulb that only illuminates for 11 seconds a year.  Few people will ever see it alight but there will always be a great sense of expectation when approaching it.  But, Boetti will always have the last laugh; no doubt the work will illuminate one night, enjoying its 11-second glory in solitude.

In the foreground – Alighiero Boetti, Lampada Annuale, 1966. Own photograph.

Game Plan is another exhibition that Tate has dimly lit, making it gloomy and exhausting.  It is highly likely that the tapestries dictate these low light levels but the curatorial decisions have removed any playfulness from the exhibition.  Tate has done nothing to jazz this show up.  I’d only seen a few of Boetti’s works before but the sheer diversity is incredible.  However, if you don’t know anything about the artist, Tate’s choice of labelling and explanations is strange.  I found the catalogue to be far more palatable than the show and it is through this that I’ve been able to understand some of the more baffling elements in greater detail.  It clearly elucidates Boetti’s multi-faceted career in a non-exhausting way.

Alighiero Boetti,detail of I mille fiumi più lunghi del mondo, 1976-78. Own photograph.

Even on a preview morning, as people ‘accidentally’ stepped over the boundary lines, a ridiculous symphony of beeps deafened everyone in the gallery.  The alarms were like a sound installation which I imagine will get tiresome.

Some of Boetti’s works are a revelation and his use of texture throughout is amazing but overall it’s not for me.  The volume of work at Tate shows how active Boetti was.  Although, he made very few of the pieces himself, he saw thought as a sixth sense and was constantly bubbling with ideas.  There may be no continuity in his medium but Tate aims to show that his principles are consistent and that his eccentricity was omnipresent.

Alighiero Boetti: Game Plan is at Tate Modern until 27th May 2012, www.tate.org.uk.

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