Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
methusalem
francis upritchard has a small solo show on at ivan anthony at the moment. it is a good opportunity to see some of her latest work. this includes her figurines, "angry" and "day dreamer" -two particularly compelling examples. both have been mounted on small shelves on scratchy perhaps hessian-covered panels that extend from the gallery's empty door frames. one of these hessian "doors" is propped open by a small silver foot. "day dreamer" a sleeping man, levitates laterally wrapped in a blanket of found fabric. "angry" is poised cross-legged, partially pastel and plaid, part arlechina. hers is quite a graceful and plaintive anger, with one hand held to her shin, the other resting on her thigh, her head is up-tilted, eyes closed and mouth slightly grimaced. astonishing details include her tiny finger and toenails. additionally, up close one can see the imperfections of her painted surface and powdery fragments of paint.
the hessian doors resist upritchard's works being viewed against white walls, indeed the support structures of her work have always been carefully considered and constructed, whether they be found antiques or custom-made, pseudo-modernist furniture. here her supports are hessian doors, propped open with more of her small objects.
"methusaleh" is one of the oldest characters from the bible, "methusalem" evokes his kingdom, or the holy city of jerusalem, or the unholy one of salem. to exhibit art objects upon a door is a compelling idea, rather than art existing as a mimetic window, here it is placed upon an opening device, mimicking upritchard's uncanny ability to create partially synthetic and multiple realities seemingly haunted by vestiges of the actual past.
the hessian doors resist upritchard's works being viewed against white walls, indeed the support structures of her work have always been carefully considered and constructed, whether they be found antiques or custom-made, pseudo-modernist furniture. here her supports are hessian doors, propped open with more of her small objects.
"methusaleh" is one of the oldest characters from the bible, "methusalem" evokes his kingdom, or the holy city of jerusalem, or the unholy one of salem. to exhibit art objects upon a door is a compelling idea, rather than art existing as a mimetic window, here it is placed upon an opening device, mimicking upritchard's uncanny ability to create partially synthetic and multiple realities seemingly haunted by vestiges of the actual past.
francis upritchard, "methusalem"
ivan anthony, corner of east and k'rd
until march 26, 2011
"easy listening presents:
francis upritchard in conversation with tessa laird"
march 14, 6pm
elam lecture theatre 432
images: francis upritchard "angry" (2011)
wire, foil, super sculpy, paint
235 x 240 x 140mm
francis upritchard "day dreamer" (2011)
wire, foil, super sculpy, paint, found fabric
260 x 150 x 555mm
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
at the waking hour
Joanna Langford 'At the waking hour'
7-22 January 2011
Paul Nache gallery, Gisborne.
Langford has carefully stretched green silo bags, hanging them near the gallery ceiling, where they seem to slip or morph between cloud like forms and floating rubbish heaps.
Suspended from the ceiling in planetary formations oranges fall, as if from a fruiting tree. The fruit is, however wrinkly, ancient, developing a white film of mould and subtly permeating the gallery with the smell of rotting citrus.
The oranges are held delicately in place by cotton thread and pierced with a series of sewing needles creating tiny balcony-like structures. Although the sewing needles allude to the hand made, to skill and craft, Langford's installation is thoughtfully awkward, pointedly clumsy, refusing ideals of virtuosity and manual dexterity.
Langford's teetering, waifish constructions challenge the solid, linear art deco architecture of the gallery. Her constructions of spindly bamboo poles, plastic bags and suspended oranges could be a sketch to a new kind of architecture, perhaps a plan for some kind of other-worldly city.
Langford's installation at Paul Nache manages to combine the edible and inedible, organic and inorganic in fantastical formations. Her use of materials that deteriorate, that are spoilt and overripe lends her installation a slightly unwholesome air, whilst her incongruous combinations of materials create a sense of disquiet, a feeling that often prevails in Langford's works.
Joanna Langford's installation at Paul Nache Gallery seems to take on a number of precarious architectural formations. Her fragile structures look to be on the verge of collapse, whilst simultaneously spreading, creeping and unfurling.
Langford has carefully stretched green silo bags, hanging them near the gallery ceiling, where they seem to slip or morph between cloud like forms and floating rubbish heaps.
Suspended from the ceiling in planetary formations oranges fall, as if from a fruiting tree. The fruit is, however wrinkly, ancient, developing a white film of mould and subtly permeating the gallery with the smell of rotting citrus.
The oranges are held delicately in place by cotton thread and pierced with a series of sewing needles creating tiny balcony-like structures. Although the sewing needles allude to the hand made, to skill and craft, Langford's installation is thoughtfully awkward, pointedly clumsy, refusing ideals of virtuosity and manual dexterity.
Langford's teetering, waifish constructions challenge the solid, linear art deco architecture of the gallery. Her constructions of spindly bamboo poles, plastic bags and suspended oranges could be a sketch to a new kind of architecture, perhaps a plan for some kind of other-worldly city.
Langford's installation at Paul Nache manages to combine the edible and inedible, organic and inorganic in fantastical formations. Her use of materials that deteriorate, that are spoilt and overripe lends her installation a slightly unwholesome air, whilst her incongruous combinations of materials create a sense of disquiet, a feeling that often prevails in Langford's works.
photo credit: PAULNACHE and Tom Teutenberg.
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