AxME at the Tate

I've listened to Ellen Gallagher on Radio 4, and she seems good humoured, interesting and engaging.

I found it tougher to appreciate her artwork in her huge AxME exhibition at the Tate Modern. Maybe it was the sheer scale, or perhaps the need for me to have more of an understanding ahead of the viewing?

The show is still very new, and weirdly I thought I could smell fresh paint or paste as I walked in and noticed the walls covered with what looked like the fine lines of Gallagher's own drawings (Yes, I did sniff the walls - a first for me).

A large proportion of the work related to important African-American topics. Slavery, finding identity, social pressures and insecurities. I could get the idea, but at times it felt overwhelming. Maybe that was the point.

I looked at a painting called Oh! Susanna - which was reflective of the original slave song. Of course, the song became a folksy standard via Stephen Foster and the painting depicts the make-up eyes and mouths once used to caricature black minstrels in American popular culture. These carnival-like miniature eyes and mouths then popped up again on another range of paintings showing further arrangements related to a similar theme. I think there was an important message about subjugation and its universal adoption, but ironically also a risk of the same theme's dilution by over-use.

Similarly with a series about hair and wigs.

Vintage repurposed advertisements about changing a racial identity. Original editorial exploitative of racial insecurities. Emphasised by the artist showing the new adapted and aspirational hairstyles in yellow plasticine. I got the general idea, but there were then so many versions of it (hundreds?) that I almost didn't know where to look.

In another room, there were what at first looked like a range of empty frames. I was alone in the room (which also had a large metal framed structure in the centre) and wondered if I'd accidentally strayed into an area that was still being assembled. Then I saw someone else looking. The picture frames did contain careful paper cuts and effects applied across the canvas.

Another room had huge black canvases, with carefully arranged cutouts of wigs, lips and other forms pasted on, seemingly forming other larger shapes and all encapsulated in a black film. I could understand that these pictures required effort to view effectively. Stand in front and they go shiny black. Stand to the side and you can only see a part of the work. The scale was huge, there were clear thematic connections between works, but by now the repetitions were somehow causing me to disengage.

Occasionally there was a picture that stood out as a more accessible work. The Egyptian Abu Simbel temples, adapted with African faces, and an Afrofuturistic spaceship arriving, probably landing with a jazzy Sun Ra soundtrack. It still had the 'eyes', but there was a whimsical and mythical quality that stood it apart.

All along it was making me wonder about this artist's process. Maybe the repetition of themes was emphasising the scale of the situations being depicted? Maybe it was obsessive? Maybe it was trying to make sure the viewer would not forget? Perhaps it was a curator's challenge to find the right filter?

I'm glad I visited, it left a strong impression, but I can't help thinking it might be a case where less could have been more.

under construction

Back in the Smoke today, along the South Bank for a meeting.

The daily changes of London sometimes sneak up and it's when I'm with someone from out of town that I notice it more. Along the lines of "Gosh, isn't the Shard tall?" or similar comments.

The Shard's restaurant has just opened, but my main picture today is of the new configuration as the Cheesegrater and the Walkie Talkie building start to mask some of the views of the Gherkin.

For many years, the old Nat West Tower (Tower 42) dominated this part of the skyline, but then the Gherkin appeared and a few other buildings were chopped down to make room for a new series of taller blocks.

The above picture is one I took a few years ago, when an area on the edge of the City was being flattened.

There's similar re-developments across the river in the mainly low-rise area around Nine Elms now, with the planned arrival of the new American Embassy zone and already there's a couple of new tower blocks well under way, just along from the site being cleared for the Americans.

I sense a few more Shard-like structures are emerging.

A brief diversion to Stanage Edge

When I'd planned my original route through the Peak District, I'd marked a few places to visit, which included Mam Tor and Stanage Edge. I was alone for this part of the journey, but decided it would still be fun to get to the top of both locations. I've got the regulation "I'm at the top" pictures from both places, with me holding a camera at arm's length.

At Mam Tor it was still early enough for me to be the only visitor, but by the time I reached Stanage, the climbers were beginning to arrive in numbers.

Stanage is a gritstone escarpment, where the top of a fold in the rocks have been eroded akin to the top of a hard boiled egg being sliced away.

It's also on the route of an old road called the long causeway and is one of several notable broad stony paths across the area, once used by Romans and pack mules, nowadays bridle paths and used by hikers.

she did whatever she wanted with his things and his paintings

A visit to the BALTIC during the weekend, to see Marcin Maciejowski's exhibition.

It's a kind of mixture of new painting derived from other works such as photos, magazine items, posters. I've seen a couple of his party scene pictures before. They are really quite striking.

There's other sets which take a look at fashion, celebrity, politics - some don't include the faces, representing a substitutability of form in some situations - like his series of faceless red carpet people.

It seems appropriate to view these pictures, reflective of half remembered mental snapshots, during the weekend when the gallery also allowed photography.

So below, my own (found) creation from the same gallery.

Hidden Power.
(rashbre)
Masking Tape, Plaster board, emulsion.

one cubic metre of beauty

We visited the Fabrice Hyber 'Raw Materials' exhibition today. It's bursting with ideas. A quick one above is called "1 cubic metre of beauty" and is made of wood, metal, plaster and YSL Number 1 beauté lipstick. It's part of a larger piece and the show includes several big themed sections.

There's a cloud and elemental section in another area, including a tin shed which, if you open its door, creates a gale force wind. Another wooden shed is filled with rain, thunder and lightning.

Behind the main display area is another area of ideas, hung on multiple washing lines like so many sheets. Or a couple of long corridors filled with partly completed sketches. An invitation to browse the evolving raw material ideas of a fertile and creative mind.

ambient chilled motorway driving

What with this being a Bank Holiday weekend, I'm now pleased to be sightseeing ahead of many of the motorists who will be hitting the road.

It wasn't all plain sailing though. There was a vehicle fire on the motorway which held me up for a long time.

I was one of the motorists not breaking the law during the incident. There were hundreds more who decided that they had important places to visit and so they would use the emergency lane on the motorway instead of staying in line like the rest of us.

It started with just a couple of foreign-plated vehicles (Romania and France), and then in minutes had turned into a complete flow. As a side note, I notice that some foreign plated articulated lorries also seem to be using the outside lane on 3 and 4 lane motorways, which is prohibited for those that read the highway code.

The emergency lane is really for emergencies, such as breakdowns, or in the case of a fire on the motorway it is so that service vehicles can get through quickly.

This was a case in point, where the extra lane just became a traffic jam of law-breakers and effectively blocked the access to the emergency site from the fire, police and ambulance services.

In the picture you can see an incident vehicle to my left trying to get past a row of cars which have all decided to use the emergency lane. It took them about 10 minutes to pass just three or four cars to my left and at one point they had to get out of the vehicle to direct traffic back onto the legal part of the motorway.

No spring lambs harmed in the creation of this post.

I'd better explain. The road signifies my meandering route during Thursday, on the way to meet with blog friend Debra. I decided to make my journey to the north a diagonal one through the Peak District, so that I could stop off on en route for a visit.

Our little group had arranged to meet - as usual to sort out our real names, and to go to a certain pub, which I will describe as idyllically in the middle of no-where.

That's when we found the interesting element on the menu. Turn away faint hearted or vegetarians. It was Lamb Henry. OK, I thought lambs were kind of 'Lamb 47', but this did add a different dimension. The waitress wasn't phased and when we enquired she explained that Henrietta was also waiting in the kitchen. That was until she gave the real explanation, which I won't provide here - although it is easy to google and comes with mint and rosemary.

So here's a picture from my wandering around the Peaks - Please note the spring lamb in the picture is fully functional.

And then, when I arrived at my next more northern hotel stop, I was slightly surprised to see the complementary shampoo and conditioners.

They seemed to be trying to tell me something.

the square mile

I could tell it was a posh do by the filled triangular pyramids of champagne and wine glasses stacked up in the entrance area. And as for the geometrically structured canapés! Well...It slightly surprised the wine-waiter when I asked for 'something non-alcoholic' although he produced some chilled fresh orange juice from under the counter.

It was the opening of a new exhibition at The Ark and I was there meeting a couple of friends, one of whom was exhibiting.

My question was whether it felt like 'being on duty' when it was an event like this, but I was told 'it depends'. My own experience is that it's far more demanding to be an organiser and not even get to try the canapés.

It turned out that this show had been organised by others, so it was a question of turning up and being relaxed, rather than having to hover and orbit. My friend's last show had been at another gallery where she was an organiser and much more 'on duty' making sure everyone was greeted/spoken to/schmoozed with and so on.

Instead, we could move freely around admiring and critiquing the works on display.

It was mainly hung work rather than sculptures, and had a variety of mainly abstract themes.

As this was the private view, there were a fair few of the artists around, so a certain care was needed before making pronouncements. I'm not sure what the official distance is, but most artists would stand at least 10 metres from their own work, and often would have a varied but somehow tell-tale dress code that helped them be identifiable.

There were some fine pieces on show, and some good and interesting ideas.

I enjoyed the show, and must admit to even acquiring an artwork to eventually be hung in rashbre central. Of course, for the next seven weeks, it remains on display at the Ark, with a little red dot beside it.

strung out on lazers and slash back blazers

We visited the David Bowie event at the Victoria and Albert during the weekend. The V&A have done a good job and judging by the queues it's probably bringing in plenty of first time visitors.

Fortunately, we already had access so skipped the line, which had those Disney style vanishing angles to conceal its true length.

The show was originally opened by Tilda Swinton, who described Bowie as an early muse. As she said, "The image of that gingery boney pinky whitey person on the cover with the liquid mercury collar bone was - for one particular young moonage daydreamer - the image of planetary kin, of a close imaginary cousin and companion of choice."

Indeed, an influence for part of a generation, with his frequent changes of gear and perspective. The main exhibition has a wide range of costumes, photos, posters, records, videoa performance extracts and a guided headphone experience. I enjoyed spotting things like his original 12 string guitar tucked away on the corner of an exhibit.

The exhibition is split into various eras, from the Anthony Newley like early mod period, through Ziggy, America, Low Germany and beyond.

I found some of the smaller items fascinating too, like the early written outline for Ziggy Stardust, sketching the storyline that became the album's concept.

Dana Gillespie was there and she was an early friend of Bowie. She lived across the road from the V&A in Thirloe Square and her parents' basement became 'The Bunker' where early Bowie collaborators including Angie Bowie met. She had a vast range of stories, including some best kept as memories.

The show is called 'Davie Bowie is' and on the last wall of the show was Paul Robertson's periodic table of Bowie.

Not a bad metaphor for this art who fell to earth. Here's "Heroes".

a chorus of human static

I was putting away some of the artifacts from the weekend's varied events.

Bizarrely, today saw the addition of belated Easter Eggs to the collection. I know where they will get filed.

But first I'll wind back to cover Friday evening's space invader style landing in a nearby market town. Performance art, involving towering metal tripods and rotating drones of sound, both continuous and pulsating, creating interactions and musical eddies which varied by location and height.

The trance inducing installation was digging holes in the fabric of time and space. An ambient chatter of humans formed an eerie backdrop to the strange machines which surrounded us as we'd emerged from a nearby Italian restaurant.

Breakfast in Mayfair

An early start in Mayfair today, in a fancy apartment that falls out onto Piccadilly. An ideal opportunity for a stroll around the still deserted Green Park. The City of London can be quite deserted on a Sunday, whereas this area should still, by rights, be busy.

So it surprised me that the morning brought a sleepy start to the tourists, giving an initial tranquility to the streets and other public areas. Piccadilly with only three cars in sight is a rare view, especially on a sunny morning. Even the area around Eros was quiet, although a few were posing for the statutory photographs.

As I drifted into a sleepy Chinatown, the hoards of tourists started to descend. Another half an hour and everything will have reset to normal.

I circled back, ahead of a rendezvous at 11 o'clock. As I passed Eros again, it was already busier, with groups beginning to congregate to be taken on walking tours or bus rides around the centre. It is a strange zone here, with many sets of people on different orbits, intersecting but often unaware of the wild range of possibilities within a one or two block radius.

For me, the last few days have been pretty arty, although my next proper work project was supposed to kick off on Monday. I've just heard that there may be a delay, which gives me time to get involved in another fun project that's been on my mind.

More later, as they say.

Man Ray Portraits - National Portrait Gallery

Another blog post sitting unfinished was my recent visit to the Man Ray exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery. It runs through to the end of May. I've been a fan of Man Ray's photographs for a long time, but I think this is the first time I've seen a whole collection together.

There's some wonderful portraits on show, and a remarkable collection of inter war year Paris people photographed by Man Ray.

We see many of his buddy/co-consirator Marcel Duchamp (he of the subversive 'fountain'). There's a very young Ernest Hemingway, from the time when he'd just published his first novel. A wistful bobbed-hair Iris Tree, Salvador Dali at 24 years old and developing his moustache, a suitably ruffled haired Yves Tanguy. There's a beautiful and caring series of the apprentice photographer Lee Miller.

Oh, Plus Picasso, Wallis Simpson, Aldous Huxley, Virginia Woolf, Coco Chanel, Joan Miro. The list and indeed the co-operations go on and on.

The exhibition's limit to portrait photography gives a chance to drill into the emerging techniques.

The handling of focus and sometimes softness, a wide range of lighting moving to patterned overlays. Experimental tinkering with some of the prints. Pen markings. The famous violon d'ingres. Solarisation. Then there's the decision to 'come in close'. Quite a few of the pictures are very close cropped in appearance. Fortunately there's a few contact strips and test prints to look at and to see the decisions about which picture and how the final framing gets selected.

Something else struck me with some of the prints on show. Aside from some keynote pictures, others looked small in their frames. If you've seen the work in books or magazines, it will get a page. Sometimes you need to stand very close to really get the impression.

So here's my tip. Get the catalogue too. It's fantastic. Okay - its £25, but it's a superb rendering of what's in the show plus a good commentary and a section that describes more of the context of Man Ray's other art.