Liverpool Biennial - Ming Wong

Ming Wong - 28 - 32 Wood Street

Video taken from www.youtube.com 

The Liverpool Biennial space at 28 - 32 Wood Street has been taken over by Ming Wong and his works, "Making Chinatown" (2012), "After Chinatown" (2012) and "The Chinese Detective (2012).

The way the films were displayed really made the space feel whole and dynamic as the screens were suspended in the air at different angles around the space. I really liked the works themselves, "After Chinatown" being my favourite. I find the movement of the images on a big screen so enjoyable to watch. If I'm honest, the images could probably be of anything and I'd like it, but I liked the intertextuality and mimicking of the old Hollywood effects (clothes, sound, camera movement etc). I thought it was really captivating.

In the room at the back there was the piece "The Chinese Detective", which was an installation of a collection of movie posters, newspaper cuttings, books, and promotional pieces all referencing the Chinese detective within film. I really like the collection and the artefacts were beautiful. Film is such an effective and seductive medium; everyone is fascinated with film, especially the older ones that Wong is playing with. It brings a sort of magic to pieces, and it's utterly fascinating to see. Even though we all know how films are made, I think they hold some kind of affinity with people that I feel is maybe more immediate and easily established than paintings.

Manchester Contemporary Art Fair

Class Visit: 28th September

Upon arrival to Manchester Contemporary Art Fair, we were introduced to studios, split into sections of galleries, exhibiting selected works by "their" artists. My immediate reaction was inspiration. Seeing the work that people were making made me want to come home and start a new project and get making. There were a few artists whose work grabbed my eye, such as Bartosz Beda whose paintings really explored the different ways of applying paint, and I really loved Abigial Reynolds prints. They reminded me of Joy Division and the image of Manchester in the late 70s/early 80s that is always in post-punk documentaries. Although it was a marbling effect which I have seen before, I really liked the chance element and the way the black paint seemed to crack into skin style creases. I also liked the photo of cooling towers that had been printed underneath. The size of the prints and the colours used really grabbed my attention.

Abigail Reynolds, Cooling Towers, 2012

However, after a while of wandering round, my inspiration became mingled with mild anger. Obviously, the event was a commercial event and a chance for artists to make money, but even with this in mind I felt quite let down. The whole promotion and appreciation didn't seem appropriate for some of the works exhibited. For example, there was an artist who was apparently challenging the heritage and sensibilities of Modernism. The work displayed was a sculpture made out of 5 bricks, holding a piece of foam, with a religious promotion postcard stuck into the foam. I was interested to see what the representative for the work had to say, and I really wanted it to be good. Up until the tour I had looked at the piece for a while and tried to grasp a meaning or anything to help me understand the piece. But I found myself disappointed when the below explanation was given, as well as a reference to other works by the artist; some steel Modernist-esque sculptures with a tea towel thrown over them to undermine the sensibilities. To me, even commercially, this is absurd, but not in a good Albert Camus or Samuel Beckett kind of a way, because that wasn't it's purpose; it's purpose was to undermine Modernism. It doesn't. In addition to this, a lot of the work seemed quite elitist in this manner, requiring the viewer to have a vast knowledge of art history to understand the work.

One piece was a drawing of a piece of paper with a Charles Bukowski poem on it. I think this is an example of that kind of "pat on the back for understanding the reference" nature. I understand post-modernism and intertextuality, but this seemed to take it too far. I liked the poem by Bukowski, but I didn't like the work, because the whole strength of it depended upon the poem and understanding the cultural reference, rather than the skill of the drawing. If the meaning was related to or about the poem, surely it would be more original and artistic to respond to the poem in a way other than copying it out. It didn't seem clever or admirably brazen, it just seemed lazy and greedy to want money for this kind of thing.

I didn't feel any of the work was especially relevant or daring or really spoke to me. But then perhaps this is unfair because I find commercial art work quite repulsive in some ways; it's not about truth, or beauty, or authenticity, or meaning, investigation, it is about money. This is a side of art that I am not enticed by.

On the other hand, a talk about the Chinese Arts Centre was interesting as the upcoming exhibitions were described and the artists work seemed really interesting and thought provoking, such as Yan Xing's "Daddy Project" (2011). But the way in which the talk was given seemed to devalue the art by overvaluing the monetary value of it. They have come up with a "great" idea to ask the artists exhibiting to produce a print of some kind so that visitors can buy prints and collect, what the speaker called, "the box-set" . I do understand promotion and artists wanting to make a living, but things like this, I find, cheapen the art. The constant push for large sums of money completely undervalues the meaning of the work and the artists themselves. Art, for me, is not an object to be bought, it is an experience or a meaning or a significance or just something. The whole feel to the fair was quite sad I thought. I know they're trying to build up their own institutions, but after visiting the Manchester Art Gallery and watching or viewing or seeing art for free with no buying being pushed on me, I felt that's a better way for art to be.

Manchester Art Gallery

Visit: 28th September 2012

Image taken from: http://ca2m.org/en/current/472

Upon entering the gallery, the first piece of work I encountered was a piece of video art (a still of which is pictured above) by Cyprien Caillard entitled "The Smithsons" (2005). It was a brief film featuring "Asleep" by The Smiths, which was played over different clips of Robert Smithson architecture. I loved the piece, but admittedly this could have been because I like The Smiths. I liked the incorporation and play on names, and it made me think about the way music or sound can immediately change the image and it's meaning, and vice-versa I suppose. For example, "Asleep" is quite a sombre and melancholic song, and within this context it changed the meaning of the architecture, for me, to be somewhere of a home, filled by lonely people, or people needing human comfort, all living together, but perhaps separately. Simultaneously, it changed the meaning of the song at time to be about needing or wanting human comfort, rather than the admittance/acceptance of loneliness that I had always read it to be, as the images conveyed buildings in beautiful, sunny surroundings at some points. I watched the film through a few times, just contemplating these changes of meanings and I really enjoyed it.

Contemporary Photography Exhibition

Image taken from:
http://natashawhalleyphotography.blogspot.co.uk/

I've personally never really become indulgent in or fascinated with photography as I have never really investigated the medium or its history and, in a shallow way, I've never seen a good demonstration of a skill or meaning that is involved. I have seen photography books and exhibitions, but they have always seemed contrived to me. For example, I once visited Manchester Art Gallery and saw a photography exhibition featuring the work of Roger Ballen, called "Shadow Land" that I found quite difficult to view because it was so cliched and contrived. The use of black and white photography, mixed in with the symbolism and iconography (harsh metals, empty spaces, rags, dolls heads, youth Vs age, poverty, illness, doves, chains etc) There were so many photographs in one space, I felt I had got the "jist" by looking at 3 or 4 images and so the rest of the exhibition was overwhelmingly "samey" and it became more and more obvious and instead of reinforcing a point, its sincerity seemed to be weakened. So, when I saw that there was a contemporary photography exhibition being held in Manchester Art Gallery, I thought it would be good to make an effort and get to grips with some photography. 

On first impressions, there was nothing that massively appealed to me, but this seems to be the case with the majority of artworks that I have become fascinated with; grappling with their meanings and contexts builds a relationship between myself and the art that becomes possibly more special than a piece I immediately have a rapour with.

The first image that caught my eye was Sarah Lucas' "Self Portrait with Fried Eggs" (1996) [pictured below]. The reason it caught my eye is because I have seen it so many times in contemporary art books and exhibition catalogues, as well as being familiar with Lucas' work from her involvement in the YBA's. Seeing an image that I have seen in catalogues or books can normally go two ways for me; I can be underwhelmed or overwhelmed. This image left me quite overwhelmed. I don't think I could honestly take this image in without an element of celebrity being involved, but then I suppose the fact that it's a self-portrait intends this to be case. Consciously taking the personality into account, what struck me was the masculinity and brazen edge to the piece, which I feel the floor contributes to. It reminds me of grandeur, whilst reminding me of games (chess and checkers). The image seems at once serious, but with the checkerboard setting, it becomes entirely possible to read the image with a certain humour at Lucas' frank boldness.

Another image that caught my eye was Bridget Smith's "Premier" (1995) [pictured below]. I'm really interested in and fascinated by the work of David Lynch. When I have read up on Lynch, he has mentioned in articles his love of theatre curtains; the grandeur and atmosphere that they demand/create. Because of this, I was immediately drawn to the image. I think it summed up the fascination with the setting that David Lynch often describes. The colours are so dark and seductive and the light emanating before the seats seems tense and in anticipation.

Another piece of work that really interested me was "Kiss" (2005) by Lindsay Seers (pictured below). This was positioned next to "Premier" and I thought complemented it really well as your eyes move from small and delicate intricacy to booming atmospheric grandeur, and back again. It was a completely new display of image to me, as well as a new method of taking photographs, which Seers calls "mouth photos" as the camera is inserted into her mouth and the movement (opening, shutting, her tongue etc) move mechanisms to take a photo. I loved the red colouring of the image, as well as the fact it had been cut into a circle. I also loved the approaching blurry figure that can be seen past the teeth. But, perhaps what I liked most was the coupling of the image with the title. In a way, it reminded me of the camera angles in Peep Show, as everything is filmed from a characters perspective, even intimate acts like kissing. It got me thinking about originality in artwork and how even when you can't imagine a new way of doing something or displaying something, someone will always prove that to be wrong. "Kiss" also made me think about communication between people, and the double meaning of the physical act of the mouth, as well as the act of showing it to an audience in a gallery.

On the other side of "Premier" is "The Philosopher's Fear of the Flesh No.1" (1989) by Helen Chadwick. (Image is pictured below). This piece also bowled me over with originality. The bottom image is of a belly, and the top of a fillet of fish. The images were encased in a wooden "infinity" style case, with lighting behind the images. The mixture of textures was a bit startling and daunting and I actually couldn't figure out what the top image was of until reading the information statement. I liked the symmetry between the images and the fleshy colours used.

An interest in photography perhaps?

Rhys Chatham's "Crimson Grail"

Image taken from "http://www.peterguy.merseyblogs.co.uk/Rhys%20Chatham%20-%20A%20Crimson%20Grail%20-%20Liverpool%20Biennial%20-%20Anglican%20Cathedral-1.JPG"

 On 14th September 2012, Liverpool Anglican Cathedral was host to Rhys Chatham's artwork "The Crimson Grail", performed by 100 guitars and 8 basses. I was really excited to see the piece, although I didn't know what to expect, and admittedly, once it began, I felt a little underwhelmed by the opening. There was a point prior to seeing the piece when I considered the impact of having all of those powerful instruments playing simultaneously under one roof and the sheer noise and tension that they could create.

Image taken from:
 "http://www.bidolito.co.uk/bido-lens/crimson-grail-live"

However, I soon realised that Chatham's composition was not about a "song", as such. There was no real powerful tune or powerful thread that grabbed my attention in the same way any other music does. It seemed more to be about atmosphere.

Set within the beautiful walls of an obtrusive, "old testament" style cathedral, it at first took me a while to see an intention. The sound gradually built and softened, causing the actual music, as well as the audience to become consumed by a kind of unbearable tension. The setting provided an almost ethereal glaze to the sounds emitted from the guitars, which seemed more similar to that of violins. The sound also created harmonies and echoes that were bounced around the different sections of musicians.

Made up of four sections, each entity was instructed by a conductor, who were each being fed messages by Chatham, who stood tall at the front of the cathedral, beside the high-hat. This splitting into sections really utilized the space and it's acoustics.

It was, for me, a completely new way of experiencing art, which in itself was exciting. In addition to this, if the beginning had not convinced me, the end of the piece most certainly did. The sounds created were completely different to those which I expected. As a guitar player, I was interested in the actual notes and  chords they were playing, and at first I felt disappointed that they seemed to be playing no recognisable chords, but holding down all the strings in one fret and moving this up and down the neck, as well as playing vague notes around the frets. However, I realised this was quite a shallow view and the unfamiliarity became admirable and quite fun. The end resulted in a huge climactic episode with guitarists frantically strumming and moving up the fret-boards in turns. I felt the ending to be quite moving and uplifting, almost in a spiritual manner. Although it took me a while to get used to, I really enjoyed the experience, and I thought the layout of the whole piece was great, including all areas of the audience.