Tag Archives: Ben Nicholson

2012 Highlights

27 Dec

When it comes picking my highlights of the last year, I am impossibly indecisive – as ever there have been been the usual disappointments but there have been a fair few stunners in the arts calendar.  I can’t believe how many shows I’ve seen but I also feel I’ve missed a lot – if only there were a few more hours in every day.

As I did last year, I’ve chosen the exhibitions that stand out for me as being remarkable; they include stunning art work, and are interesting and well-curated.  Here we go…

Triumphant at Tate – Way back in February, I visited Yayoi Kusama at Tate Modern and I can still vividly picture the exhibition.  Kusama has always been ahead of her time – her work is beautiful, innovative and ground-breaking.  The exhibition worked broadly chronologically with each sequence of rooms studying the emergence of a new artistic stance.

Kusama

Yayoi Kusama, I’m Here, but Nothing, 2000. Own photograph.

Radiant at the Royal Academy  – while the rest of the world is still raving about Bronze, the RA’s highlight for me was their exhibition Johan Zoffany RA: Society Observed.  I admit that, as an 18th century art historian, I may be slightly biased but through these 60 or so works, the RA successfully argued his importance to the artistic culture and heritage of his time.

Zoffany

Johan Zoffany, Three Sons of John, Third Earl of Bute and Three Daughters of John, Third Earl of Bute, 1763-4. Own photograph.

Nailing It at the National GallerySeduced by Art is still on show at the National Gallery and is an unmissable exhibition.  This divided opinion but, for me, it was a stunning and enthralling.  Seduced by Art is not a survey, nor a history of photography.  Instead, it offers an argument and dialogue that presents historical painting, alongside historical photography, alongside contemporary photographs. The National Gallery has had a strong year and I feel its Metamorphosis: Titian 2012 (with Wallinger’s Diana in particular) is also worthy of mention.

The Destroyed Room, 1978

Jeff Wall, The Destroyed Room. Image courtesy of the National Gallery of Canada and via www.ng-london.org.uk.

Leaving LondonEdward Burra at Pallant House was the first major show for over 25 years of the artist’s works in which Burra is finally awarded a smidgeon of the recognition he deserves.  It offered an opportunity to study his extraordinary creativity.

Burra

Edward Burra, The Snack Bar, 1930. Image via www.tate.org.uk.

Also with podium finishes were:

Glistening GoldMondrian||Nicholson: In Parallel, The Courtauld Gallery

This explored the creative relationship between Mondrian and Nicholson, charting the parallel paths explored by these two artists during the 1930s.  It was a far more contemporary show than we would normally expect from The Courtauld and it successfully changed the gallery aesthetic, pairing two artists who many wouldn’t otherwise have realised are connected.

Composition C (No.III) with Red, Yellow and Blue

Piet Mondrian, Composition C (no. III), with Red, Yellow and Blue, 1935. Image courtesy of Mondrian/Holtzman Trust and via www.courtauld.ac.uk.

Scintillating SilverNowhere Less Now, Tin Tabernacle

Artangel’s commission by Lindsay Seers, took place in the Tin Tabernacle; Nowhere Less Now was a poignant amalgam of film, photography, sculpture, performance, animation, philosophy and writing.  Its complexities still offer food for thought many months afterwards.

Tin Tab

The Tin Taberacle. Own photograph.

Brilliant BronzePainting from Life: Carracci Freud, Ordovas

Having successfully juxtaposed Bacon and Rembrandt in the past, Ordovas knows how to get its shows right: Painting from Life was a tiny exhibition bringing together head studies by Carracci and Freud.  This was an intimate, simple and stunning juxtaposition.

Ordovas

Ordovas. Image via www.ordovasart.com.

Last but by no means least – Runner Up  – Alberto Burri: Form and Matter, Estorick Collection of Modern Italian Art

Before this exhibition, I didn’t really know who Burri was but he is undoubtedly a master of the 20th century who revolutionised the vocabulary of post-war art.  From the simplest materials, Burri was able to create something monumental and striking, imbued with energy and movement.

6. Burri White Cretto 1975

Alberto Burri, White Cretto, 1975. Image courtesy of the Fondazione Palazzo Albizzini, Collezione Burri and Città di Castello and via www.estorickcollection.com.

But, there was also David Shrigley: Brain Activity at the Hayward Gallery, Leonardo da Vinci: Anatomist at the Queen’s Gallery, Rothko/Sugimoto: Dark Paintings and Secrets at Pace London, Tim Lewis: Mechanisms at Flowers, Doris Salcedo at White Cube and Louse Bourgeois: The Return of the Repressed at The Freud Museum and numerous great little shows at Josh Lilley.

I’m sure I’ve forgotten lots of gems.  We are so fortunate to have such varied and high calibre art to admire on our doorstep.  It’s so easy to get from gallery to gallery however precarious your footwear may be and, of course, there’s always a taxi around the corner.

It seems only fitting to include some of my favourite shoe pictures from the past year and to thank my principal shoe photographer (you know who you are).

shoes (3)

P1050311

P1050373 - Copy

P1030131

shoes (4)

Shoes

shoes (2)

Thank you, as ever, for reading Artista.  I hope you had a very Merry Christmas and wish you all a Happy Shoe Year.

Ski boots

Parallel Painting Paths – Mondrian and Nicholson converse at The Courtauld

22 Feb

As you know, the exhibition space at The Courtauld is at the very top of the building.  Now, during a quiet afternoon it may be permissible to have a quick pant in-between floors or to embark on the climb wearing flat shoes but these weren’t options at an evening opening and so I bravely tottered all the way up, without stopping and without moaning (well, not that I recall).  This is an unusual exhibition in many regards: It is a more contemporary show than we would expect of The Courtauld, it successfully changes the gallery aesthetic and it pairs two artists who many wouldn’t otherwise have realised are connected.

The exhibition explores the creative relationship between Piet Mondrian and Ben Nicholson, allowing us to continue London’s exploration of Modern British, charting the parallel paths explored by the two artists during the 1930s when their works were often presented side-by-side.  The exhibition presents the two artists in parallel – in conversation – with the works leading us through their story.  When Nicholson first visited Mondrian’s studio in 1934 he had to rest in a café afterwards to try to take in what he had just seen – the elegant serenity of the works, the ambience of the studio and the energy of Mondrian himself.  This visit marked the beginning of a fascinating friendship that lasted until Mondrian’s death.

Ben Nicholson, 1936 (white relief). Image  via www.courtauld.ac.uk

At Nicholson’s invitation, Mondrian moved from Paris to London where the two worked in neighbouring studios in Hampstead.  They were separated by the outbreak of war when Mondrian moved to New York and Nicholson to Cornwall but there are over 60 letters from Mondrian to Nicholson and Barbara Hepworth (Nicholson’s then wife) covering the ten years of their friendship.

As they often do, The Courtauld has cleverly conceived a show around one of their own works – this time a Nicholson canvas, 1937 (painting).  It is part of a group of related works with powerful colour combinations of white, black, yellow and red, moderated by a cool blue.  Nicholson stretched his canvas over board, ensuring a flat and solid surface on which to work.  As ever, the painting is precise and disciplined; the colour planes are carefully ruled and there is no chance that colours will bleed into each other.  The painter’s mark is suppressed. The composition is actually very unlike Mondrian but these two artists are united by their use of forms.

Ben Nicholson, 1937 (painting). Image  via www.courtauld.ac.uk

Nicholson explores lines, shapes and spatial effects in a subtle way whereas Mondrian’s works radiate energy.  It is so easy to go around this exhibition comparing them but this should not be the point.  Yes, their lives are placed in comparison but Nicholson was never trying to imitate Mondrian and their works must be viewed as a relationship of influence.  Their art offers an alternative modern vision using a restrained vocabulary of colour and line.  Although, at times, the compositions may be strikingly similar and their vocabulary is harmoniously shared, they are very different.  They do work well as conversational pairs but there can be no denying their extreme differences. Mondrian’s works have a calming effect yet their vibrancy is uncontainable.

Before this show, I don’t think many people were aware of the depth of the mutually reinforcing friendship of Mondrian and Nicholson.  Like the exhibition, the catalogue is small and focused, a perfect reflection of a joyously academic and calming show.  It mentions the ‘opposites attract’ theory stating that Nicholson was a networker while Mondrian was a loner, Nicholson demanding and provocative while Mondrian was courteous and quiet and that Nicholson was intolerant while Mondrian was patient.  Further research into their lives has shown that this is probably a myth but a rather nice one as there is an interesting parallel in their works – they are similar but different.

Piet Mondrian, Composition C (no. III), with Red, Yellow and Blue, 1935. Image courtesy of Mondrian/Holtzman Trust and via www.courtauld.ac.uk

Mondrian painted using very specific rules where geometric figures were only ever to be the result of linear intersections and never to be separate forms.  Colour was reduced to the three most saturated primaries creating a stark contrast of black lines with bright colours.  His works have a forceful impact.

No spotlights are used to illuminate the paintings; instead, the white walls are floodlit bathing the works in light rather than starkly presenting them.  The show is beautifully and thoughtfully curated.   The exhibition space isn’t large and, therefore, the curators needed to be disciplined in their selection, presenting juxtaposing works that reveal the similarities and differences between these two artists.  Comments that the show is too small are unfair as this is what The Courtauld has to work with and they have done so brilliantly and in an astute fashion.

Mondrian and Nicholson present two strains of modernism that art history has often separated.  Now, thanks to this smartly masterminded exhibition, the two are no longer disjointed and are shown to be very much related.  Although Mondrian was Nicholson’s senior by 22 years, this only aided their reciprocal inspiration and willingness to develop.  The exhibition concludes with Nicholson’s 1936 (two forms) and Mondrian’s Composition No. III White-Yellow from 1935-42.  Nicholson’s painting, of which he produced nine variations over a period of great upheaval, is a transitional work that concludes his abstract paintings of the 1930s.  A small but intense rectangle sits proudly among three shades of grey; the work illustrates Nicholson’s highly refined use of colour relationships and the precise combinations he engineered.  The vertical format of the Mondrian is relatively unusual giving emphasis to the shape due to the obvious length of the lines.  No horizontals cross the full width of the composition.  Although the artists were apart when these works were conceived and painted, the paintings speak of the profound affinity that had developed between the two men as they worked in parallel.

Ben Nicholson, 1940-43 (two forms). Image via www.courtauld.ac.uk

The PV was so busy that I must return to this show another time, to view the works in a calmer atmosphere than amidst the bustling crowds of last Wednesday.  Not that there’s ever anything wrong with a bit of chatter and a glass of wine!  Dinner at Cigalon beckoned and I made my way a tad more cautiously back down the stairs.

Mondrian||Nicholson: In Parallel is at The Courtauld Gallery until 20th May 2012, www.courtauld.ac.uk.

Due to restrictions by the Mondrian estate, I have only been able to reproduce one image here without charge.

An Intoxicating Edge – Picasso and Modern British Art

13 Feb

February is over-saturated – more snow than London can cope with, hearts filling every shop window display (no matter how tenuous the connection) on every street and more blockbuster exhibitions than we have time to see.  This week alone I have four major openings marked in my diary plus a smattering of smaller ones that may well have to wait for a later date.

Picasso & Modern British Art at Tate Britain explores Picasso’s lifelong connections with Britain through a series of dialogues with the heroes of Modern British Art, examining his critical reputation and acclaim as both a figure of controversy and celebrity.

Pablo Picasso, Nude Woman in a Red Armchair, 1932. Image via www.tate.org.uk

The exhibition can be split into two – one strand that documents the exhibition and collecting of Picasso’s art in Britain which is interleaved with ‘conversation’ rooms showcasing the British Greats responding to Picasso’s work – Duncan Grant, Wyndham Lewis, Ben Nicholson, Henry Moore, Francis Bacon, Graham Sutherland and David Hockney.  This is a veritable treasure trove for any Modern British lover like me.  Picasso’s own versatility, in part, explains the range of these responses but the exhibition also seeks to show how these artists were responding to Picasso well before he had been embraced by the British public.

Picasso first exhibited in Britain in 1910 in an exhibition organised by Roger Fry.  After explaining this, the exhibition moves straight into a room looking at his influence on Duncan Grant who adopted African inspired figures and decorative patterns and later began to respond to Cubist collages.  Grant’s work does little for me; Tate don’t even dedicate a whole room to him and he shares wall space with Wyndham Lewis.  Although Lewis was a harsh critic of Picasso throughout his life, it’s not actually known if they ever met but his work suggests that he saw Les Demoiselles.

Wyndham Lewis room at the exhibition. Own photograph.

Throughout, the exhibition looks at Picasso’s trips to London with a stunning section on the scenery and costume designs he produced for Diaghilev and Ballet Russes in 1919 when he resided at the Savoy.  During the first few weeks of this stay, Picasso sat in the corner of the Ballet Russes rehearsal rooms, drawing away while they danced.  The Three Cornered Hat was the largest ballet that Picasso worked on and his designs were not just limited to costume and set – they even extended to the accessories and make-up, which, when possible, he applied himself.

Pablo Picasso, The Three Cornered Hat, 1919-20. Own photograph.

This is not an exhibition to be taken lightly; it includes some extraordinary works many of which are loaned from private collections.  Most works have hefty wall labels – I’m not saying this is a bad thing, but this is not a show to flit through during your ten minute lunch break.  It is altogether a more serious exhibition.

Obviously, there have been more responses to Picasso than the seven studied here but those included here illustrate variety and quality over a period of more than seventy years.  It is rare to have the opportunity to view these alongside the original Picasso’s that may have influenced them.

Inside the exhibition. Own photograph.

Ben Nicholson first encountered Picasso in Paris in the 1920s and recalled a specific Picasso of 1915 which he saw as the benchmark for the qualities in his own work.  In the following decade, he developed his own distinctive version of the Cubist composition where he adopted decorative patterning, intersecting forms and made use of materials such as sand to create a more physical presence.

Ben Nicholson, 1933 (coin and musical instruments), 1933. Own photograph.

Moving on, Sutherland acknowledges his debt to Guernica; he made several works where natural objects metamorphose into figurative presences – tortured anxious works reflecting the state of England at the time.  Sketchbooks throughout the exhibition allow us to see some real gems and we are teased here with some fabulous Sutherland studies.  I only wish Tate made more use of their technological ability, offering turning pages on a screen as they did in the Vorticism show last year.

Graham Sutherland, Thorn Head, 1946. Own photograph.

The exhibition includes some fabulous and intriguing early works by Bacon and Moore.   The Bacon’s are particularly remarkable and, if you are a fan, this room if worth a visit in its own right, bringing together seven of only nine works that are known to have survived Bacon’s attempts to destroy all his pre-1944 works.  Bacon said that ‘[Picasso’s work is closer] to what I feel about the psyche of our time [than any other artist]’; it was after he saw an exhibition of Picasso’s in the late 1920s that he abandoned interior design and began painting.  It was seeing Picasso’s representations of the body as a biomorphic structure that inspired him with the possibilities this medium could offer.  It would be a pleasure to write a whole piece on this one room looking at how Bacon’s works on the theme of crucifixion echo Picasso’s The Three Dancers (which Bacon may have seen a reproduction of in 1930 in Documents) or looking at his triptych, Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion.  As Bacon’s style developed and became more distinct, the debt to Picasso became more embedded.  The two artists shared an approach that would forever tie them together.

Francis Bacon, Crucifixion/Figure, 1933 and Composition (Figure), 1933. Own photograph.

The curators decided to stop at Hockney, feeling that after this point Picasso’s influence just becomes too universal and never-ending.  The exhibition finishes with Picasso’s The Three Dancers of 1925, taking us back to the Picasso we know and love and, in turn, slightly losing the dialogue which has been so excellently explored throughout.

Peering through to Pablo Picasso, The Three Dancers, 1925. Own photograph.

The sooner Tate finish their job-lot of grey paint the better; it’s a brilliant show often dulled by the monotonous, gloomy wall colour.  The works are all so sensational that the exhibition comes together despite the somewhat tenuous nature of some of the links and comparisons.

Picasso’s climb to fame in the UK was not easy and he received much criticism along the way – in 1949, Churchill even said he would like to kick the artist up the backside.  Yet when in 1960 Tate finally mounted its first Picasso retrospective, it attracted more than 460,000 visitors in two months.  The exhibition made a profit and received positive reviews.  It appeared we had at last embraced Picasso’s Cubist ways and we’ve never really let go.

Pablo Picasso, Head of a Woman, 1924. Own photograph.

This exhibition is extensive but the works here are something to behold.  Tate really shows off some Modern British masterpieces; somewhat ironically, it is these that stay with me most and they are what I recommend you go to see.  Don’t get me wrong, the Picasso’s are brilliant but the Modern British story has an intoxicating edge aided by the influence of the Spaniard.

Walking through… Own photograph.

It’s easy to get lost in the academia of the exhibition.  I wouldn’t advise reading all the wall text or you may never get out.  Instead, admire the paintings and let the excellent catalogue tell the story in depth at a later date when you’re able to sit in the warm by a fire and not having to stand up.

This is an exhibition to allow time for; an hour and a half felt like I’d only scratched the surface.  It doesn’t have the gloss or jazz of the RA’s Hockney or the NPG’s Freud (although Hockney is, of course included here).  Instead, it is quietly brilliant.

Picasso & Modern British Art will be at Tate Britain from Wednesday until 15th July 2012, www.tate.org.uk.

Wandering around Wakefield: The Hepworth Wakefield and the YSP

8 Sep

The train journey from London to Wakefield is surprisingly quick although it’s not particularly exciting.  But I was in good company with my friend from up North who loves trains and is also extremely knowledgeable (damn him) – a particularly useful companion who was able to tell me about everywhere we passed through.  Grantham, for example, is home to the UK’s only living pub sign which consists of a beehive of South African bees.  I was disappointed we didn’t have time to stop for a drink there (but it was only 10am) – maybe next time.

The Beehive.  Image via www.flickr.com/photos/historyanorak

The Hepworth Wakefield is visible from the train but to get its full impact I think you need a sunny day.  The grey industrial concrete matched the sky and I wasn’t feeling that excited.  The architects have called the exterior colour Hepworth Brown and this has caused much debate.  In the light, I think it’s more of a greyish lilac but on Tuesday it looked dreary, until we arrived outside and felt the confidence and power of the building.

The Hepworth Wakefield. Own photograph.

Like Turner Contemporary, it’s designed by David Chipperfield Architects and there are similarities, not least the use of concrete.  The Hepworth is very exposed and isolated; it rises from the River Calder, like an old mill or Venetian palazzo.  There is no proper front or back.  Instead, with water on two of its sides, the building is intended to be seen from all directions.  With this in mind, Chipperfield wanted to produce a three-dimensional site that could be accessed from different levels and sides and so conceived this structure, consisting of ten geometric forms.

The Hepworth Wakefield. Own photograph.

The building itself is intended as a giant sculpture that can be circumnavigated.  Although it’s not meant to re-create a large Hepworth, it does aspire to Hepworth-like qualities.

The galleries are located on the upper floors and are sized according to the scale of the works, with smaller rooms for earlier works and larger ones for the temporary contemporary pieces.  It is rare to find a building designed around the artwork it houses but this is and that makes it very special indeed.  The inside brings the space to life.  None of the rooms is rectangular – the building
tilts and twists and turns in an ambitious way.  The pitched ceilings provide changing atmospheres and light streams in whilst water flows outside.

The Hepworth Wakefield.  Image via www.hepworthwakefield.org

You’re either going to love this confident concrete composite or hate it but it’s certainly not shy – it’s very much in your face.  Whereas Turner Contemporary is relatively modest in both scale and design, the Hepworth is intended to stand authoritatively and make a statement.   The building is a serious, enigmatic space that rejects the sterile, white-box gallery space to which we have become accustomed.  It is gorgeous, it’s different and far removed from the dreary building I was anticipating from my initial impression on the train.

The gallery celebrates Barbara Hepworth a native of and aims to put the spotlight on Yorkshire and modern British sculpture.

The first gallery is dedicated to Hepworth’s own sculptures, exploring the quality of her work.  There’s no mucking around here.  The gallery is inspired by Hepworth and they get straight to the point.  Sadly, the sculptures have to be displayed in Perspex cases but they are brilliant nonetheless.

Gallery 3 at The Hepworth Wakefield. Image via www.hepworthwakefield.org

Whereas our natural instinct in a room is to turn left, strangely, gallery two is on the right.  After this confusion, you continue into Wakefield’s own art collection – mostly a very eclectic mix of Modern British Art with works by Ben Nicholson, Jacob Epstein, Graham Sutherland, Paul Nash, Patrick Heron and others.  There’s a very unusual Hepworth drawing, Tibia Graft (1949), from when she was invited to observe an operation at the Princess Elizabeth Hospital in Exeter, and a stunning John Piper, Entrance to Fonthill (1940).

The galleries then continue to concentrate on Hepworth considering her in the context of the period, her relationship to European contemporaries and the spirit of artistic exchange, offering an exploration of her studio environment that provides a unique insight into her working methods.  The cabinets in one of the rooms have drawers that, annoyingly, cause an obstruction and knock into your legs; in spite of this they are definitely worth opening.  Gallery five displays the incredible Hepworth Plasters which, to my mind, are cluttered and deserve more space.

Gallery 4 at The Hepworth Wakefield. Image via www.hepworthwakefield.org

I had no idea the collection here was so extensive and, next, there is a focus on Yorkshire art with some wonderful images (including a Turner sketch) of the Chantry Chapel that stands outside the gallery.  A cleverly hidden seat by a large picture window even invites visitors to sketch the Chapel themselves.

Hot Touch, by Eva Rothschild, features 16 new works created especially for The Hepworth combining a wide range of media that includes fabric, leather and wood.  The works often make use of the forms and strategies of modernist art – squares, triangles, holes and repetition alongside a myriad of visual associations and symbols.

Eva Rothschild exhibition. Own photograph.

Rothschild’s new works seek to engage with Hepworth.  Although at first glance they seem to be polar opposites, the shapes used by Rothschild pay homage to many of Hepworth’s works, meditating on material and form.  Making use of the walls and ceilings, you can tell how brilliantly these pieces have been constructed for the space.  Stairways (2011) hangs powerfully from the ceiling with hands for fixtures.  Glimmers of colour contrast Rothschild’s use of black outlines and striking forms, showing off the works to their best advantage.

Eva Rothschild exhibition with Stairways in the back corner.  Image via www.artreview.com

It’s a great exhibition but, unfortunately, the building is still new and, therefore, garnering most of the attention and critical acclaim.  For me, Hot Touch was the icing on the cake, showing off how great this space really is – a calm and contemplative cavern for viewing art.

Back outside, I headed for a closer look at The Chantry Chapel, on the medieval bridge over the Calder.  It is the only survivor of four original chantries in Wakefield and the oldest surviving bridge chapel in England.

The Chantry Chapel.  Own photograph.

Wakefield itself, although a little rough around the edges, and not necessarily somewhere I’d want to explore alone, is a real gem.  My walking tour of Wakefield took in The Grand Clothing Hall (a brilliant building from 1906 in the Italian Renaissance-style), Barclays Bank (not just because I needed more cash but to take a look at the impressive sundials that have made it famous), 57 Westgate with carved heads over its windows and entranceways, Theatre Royal, the Magistrates Court, the Town Hall, the old Court House, the Masonic Hall and so on.  It’s endless and I can’t possibly begin to detail everything.  Wakefield has produced a cute little pamphlet detailing what there is to see with a helpful map but I had the perfect tour guide so, for once, I always found myself in the right place.

Theatre Royal. Own photograph.

It’s important to look up in Wakefield.  At street level, there’s the usual array of take-away restaurants, bars and pubs (admittedly, some very good ones), strip clubs and the like but crane your neck and there’s really some fabulous architecture to be found.  There is also modern sculpture dotted around the city – a wood and metal work by Andy Green representing the modern digital age on the Wakefield Media Centre, Seams by Oliver Barratt taking inspiration from seams of coal refers to Wakefield’s mining history.  So, to anyone who is a bit snooty about heading to Wakefield I say think again.  I missed sampling its nightlife as we had a 9pm train and, although I’m assured I was missing out, I think I was pleased to head back before the town began to party.

Andy Green at the Wakefield Media Centre. Own photograph.

15 minutes by car from the centre of town is the Yorkshire Sculpture Park and you can’t do Wakefield without also visiting there.  Spread across 500 acres of eighteenth-century landscapes ground and three indoor galleries, is an array of exhibitions, sculptures and installations.  I hadn’t expected to have time to do this so, while everyone else was sensibly attired in raincoats and wellies**, I was in high heeled boots – the perfect clothing to amble across the Yorkshire moors in the howling wind.  After about ten minutes the rain came pouring down and, sheltering under a tiny umbrella, we realised this wasn’t the day for it.  Sadly, we didn’t even manage to cover a quarter of the park and it’s somewhere I must return to…in walking boots.

Yorkshire Sculpture Park. Own photograph.

The parts we did get to see were stunning, with sculpture emerging proudly from the rugged landscape, hidden in nooks and crannies and perfectly complementing the undulating grounds.  We made it to two of the indoor exhibitions: Emily Speed’s Makeshift was a bit too basic for my liking, exploring the temporary and the transient by referencing both architecture and body.  The exhibition includes a floating, boat-like structure on which Speed sailed on the lake at the YSP.  Maybe if we’d seen this we’d have felt differently about the exhibition but it didn’t quite grab me in the way the other pieces did.

Emily Speed, Makeshift. Own photograph.

Both indoors and outside, Jaume Plensa’s exhibition, however, is brilliant.  His silent, contemplative sculptures focus on contradictions of the human condition and emotions.  The works are varied – a cut curtain of chiming steel letters fills the main corridor, sculptures that seem lit from within and white alabaster heads that are elongated and almost anamorphic.  A dimly lit room filled with gongs, that reverberate deeply when hit, was mesmerising.

Jaume Plensa. Own photograph.

As we trudged back up the hill longing for a drink and trying to avoid the sheep shit, my companion helpfully, with just a tad of sarcasm, pointed out that I was lucky to be in heels as my shoes had a smaller surface area!

I was home not long after midnight.  Don’t rule Wakefield out – it’s amazing what you can do in a day.

**It’s a good job I check my posts through as my computer had auto-corrected this to say willies!

All of the photos from my day out can be seen at www.facebook.com/chloenelkinconsulting.

Eva Rothschild: Hot Touch is at The Hepworth Wakefield until 9th October 2011, www.hepworthwakefield.orgEmily Speed: Makeshift is at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park until 18th September 2011 and Jaume Plensa is at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park until 22nd January 2012, www.ysp.co.uk.

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