Friday, February 11, 2011

Update: New Year’s Resolutions & January 2011


Giving up sugar
It is now 39 days since I last ate any sugar – chocolate, cakes, sweets, biscuits, sugar itself, etc. And far from feeling deprived, I actually feel liberated!
Perhaps, unconsciously, I am giving up things beginning with ‘S’ as I stopped using shampoo to wash my hair in September, instead using plain or rosemary infused water, and occasionally a pinch of baking powder.
In studio by 9am
Yes, most of the time, and it feels great!
Writing more reviews
I have written several which can be viewed at the link below, and really enjoyed the experience. It has caused me to think on a deeper level about artists making work today, printing and painting in particular, and how these new concerns and trends might relate to my own drawing practice.
“What I see in all the work is a sort of anti-painting; often colourful, sometimes grim, featuring out-of-context motifs, small windows of intense drawing, elements of wall-paper type decoration, out-of-focus objects and figures; and, occasionally, paint [usually gloss] thrown smartly across the surface of the canvas; a definite blurring between reality – the object, the figure – decoration, and a sort of grimey, plasticine-coloured abstraction.”
Extract from my February review on Phoebe Unwin –
More drawing
Yes, yes, yes and being fed by seeing more shows. Thinking and writing about them.
Walking & Talking
I do this three or four times a week with artist and writer friends. It is a great opportunity to discuss books we are reading and shows we have seen etc, as well as escaping out into the open away from being desk and computer-bound.
New Projects
Towner: I will be showing a new drawing installation entitled: Silhouette in the East Sussex Open at the Towner art gallery in April. [Left: image detail from Silhouette]
Jerwood: I am currently creating a new series drawings for The Jerwood Project Space which will be shown in July/August 2011. The idea is based on the traditional still life with a modern twist.
Core Gallery: Excited to be co-curating an exhibition called: Home at Core Gallery, Deptford with Rosalind Davis. I had the idea back in November, suggested it to RD, and off we cantered, with no backward glance. It has been a valuable time of new ideas and collaboration, an incredibly stimulating and enjoyable experience – particularly, the give and take, and slow build of ideas when you are learning to work with someone new.  What has also been highly gratifying is that all the artists we wanted to work with, have come back and agreed to take part. Susan Collis, Delaine Le Bas, Rose Wylie, Lucy Austin, Peter Davies, Rich White, Kate Murdoch, Emily Speed, Freddie Robbins, Graham Crowley
Best Shows: Painting – Phoebe Unwin – Wilkinson, Vyner Street  - until 6 March
Also really enjoyed The Salon Photo Prize at Matt Roberts Arts, Vyner St, until 26th February.
Reading: Fiction: Just starting We had it so good by Linda Grant. Non-fiction: At Home by Bill Bryson
Listening: When I am drawing Radio 4 and also, Radio 7 [soon to be renamed Radio 4 plus]. At the moment I am enjoying brilliant readings and adaptations of Middlemarch by George Eliot and The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoyevsky
Looking forward to: High-abstract – an exhibition by abstract critical, a new organisation supporting abstract art.
This means I am going to have to think about, read about, and probably write about abstract art – something new for me. Already, I have reached for Alan Bowness’s compact tome Modern European Art* for a short refresher course on the birth of abstract art. The press release says: An exhibition of high-ambition, high-complexity abstract painting and sculpture 1960–2010.The exhibition will feature key works by artists Alan Davie, John Hoyland, Fred Pollock, Alan Gouk, Anne Smart and Robin Greenwood. A catalogue will be available with essays by Mel Gooding, Robin Greenwood and Sam Cornish.
High-abstract: Poussin Gallery, London – 11 Feb – 12 March
ends

.* Modern European Art by Alan Bowness [London: Thames & Hudson, 1972]

Saturday, February 5, 2011

How to write?


Just received my February a-n Magazine and I see that on p.16 an extract from my New Year’s Resolutions (a-n magazine, Blog 15) has been quoted:

‘See more shows and write more reviews. Thinking about what we have seen, and writing about it is good for us.’

What I mean by this is that the time, thought and analysis that goes into writing a review usually means that the writer has had to think about the work they have seen on a deeper level, and I believe this feeds into our own practice.
I am currently writing about difficult things because I want to understand them.
I don’t find the process easy. I don’t mean the writing itself, but working out ones ideas, what one wants to say, and how best to say it.
Writing is a craft where less is always more. One easily writes 1500 words, and then has to hone it down to 750. And it is this process of self-editing that is so liberating. As you do this you find the essence of your idea, the real thought behind your words suddenly becomes clear.
The easiest reviews can be where you feel something extreme, you love it or hate it, so that the passion carries you through. The hardest are when you feel nothing, the work is so mediocre [in one’s own humble opinion]. And one thinks: ‘What’s the point?’ For this work. And for looking, thinking and writing about work in general.
Mediocrity is a passion-killer, in all aspects of life.
Then, occasionally, you see something. Something that appears to come from nowhere, that catches you off guard, and momentarily, your visual thirst, and sense for seeing something new and good is quenched. It is that inspirational.
‘That’s how I felt last night about seeing the work of painter, Phoebe Unwin, for the first time. Put crudely, there is a David Hockney – on largactil* – about them, more faded, and of course more abstract, but still that wonderful awkwardness, the pause, the hesitation, the small steps, you feel in the painters mind as the brush moves across the canvas to capture the idea of an image, something just out of reach.’
ends

*Largactil is an antipsychotic drug. Psychiatric patients taking it often suffer from restless limbs and the desire to keep walking on and on, using small shuffling steps, despite the lack of anywhere to go.  This is commonly referred to as the ‘largactil shuffle’.

Part of the latter pargraph includes an extract from my review: 
‘Phoebe Unwin: Between Memory and Observation’. 
You can read this review and others at Interface.




Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Why do we want to emerge? [And what’s the point of making art anyway?]

After visiting last week’s Future Map 10 exhibition* at London's Zabludowicz Collection, with it’s boastful bi-line: ‘showcasing the finest talent from the University of the Arts’, I have been thinking:


Why are we churning out so many artists?
Because we seem to have created a culture of art-school factories: get-em-in and churn-them-out, resulting in the current unsustainable number of artist-graduates, for whom an actual career as artist, curator or administrator is unlikely. Higher tuition fees could change this.

Why do so many people want to go to art school?
One theory points to the past two decades where the YBA’s, and the likes of Banksy etc have become cultural celebrities, resulting in the media-led idea that art can deliver culture, status and money.
But only for the fortunate ones: the so-called successfully emerged artist?  
Making a living from art is difficult. The value placed upon the idea of emerging, and taking part in activities that may help you to emerge is a double-edged sword – sometimes beneficial but always costly - in both the artists own time and/or money.
Most internships are voluntary and, while providing useful contacts and experience, rarely lead to a paid job within the organisation. This is precisely because few organisations can actually afford to pay for staff, unless they are free. Another example of: get-em-in and churn-them-out, artists being used for their skills but exploited  or undervalued in terms of remuneration.
Due to cuts, few galleries, public or otherwise, are able to offer artists an exhibition fee. Rather one is expected to exhibit for free, not just for the glory, but in exchange for the esteemed value this may or may not have in enhancing one’s career, or, to put it more bluntly: CV value - that slow accumulation of competitive tick-box experiences.
There are more open art competitions than ever before, but usually, the artists pay the gallery a fee - £8 to £50 - for the chance of having their work selected. However, research shows that many of these competitions attract hundreds or thousands of aspiring entrants, so the chances are limited. Although, administering these opportunities can’t be cheap [even with the hardworking unpaid interns ] so that the competition proceeds provide some sort of life-line for less commercial galleries. Yet, the gallery would cease to exist without the artist. However, it is doubtful many artists feel this sense of power.


Yet we live in hope – Why?
Because of the advent of a whole new generation of purpose-built modern art galleries - Tate Modern, Baltic, Towner, Eastbourne, and the soon-to-be-finished Turner, Margate and Jerwood, Hastings.
Art is the new religion. And, quite literally, as churches and chapels become art galleries. These art-venue success stories, said to be across all classes, have sold us a new and successful image of art in our culture. Art being valued, artists seen as heroes, cultural leaders and people to look up to. It used to be film stars, then it was pop stars, and now it is [a few] artists.
No wonder young people want to grow-up to be artists, it equates to the celebrity culture of the past two decades, but with a middle-class culturally- aspiring twist.


What is the point of making art?
I can’t speak for a twenty-something. However, for those who choose to study in their forties or fifties, a second [mostly unpaid] career in fine art, obviously isn’t about money and success. It is fundamentally a more philosophical pursuit, in search of trying to make sense of: how we live now? 
I believe work is made, in the hope of asking: how to be? and how to live? 
Not: how to emerge?
However, in the end, whatever age, stage or experience we are at, we all seek to be valued - to have our large, insatiable art-egos stroked - and be told that our work is good. And for that, most artists give their time free, give their art free, and [happily?] continue to pay-up for the poor odds of gaining an exhibition opportunity.
So remind me, why do we do it? What is it all for
And, what real alternatives are there? 


ends


*To read my review 'Art without a heart' of the Future Map 10 exhibition follow this link:
http://www.a-n.co.uk/interface/reviews/preview/984463


www.annabeltilley.moonfruit.com


Saturday, January 15, 2011

Art Without A Heart: How not to emerge!

On Wednesday I attended an exhibition called: Future Map 10, which promised it would be: ‘Showcasing the finest talent from the University of the Arts London’. 
It was slick, so slick and professional the actual hand of the artist was missing. There were no works on canvas or paper. Unbelievable! Six top London art schools got together and chose no drawings or paintings? What’s going on? Conspiracy or accident? To read a full review of Future Map 10 follow this link:
www.a-n.co.uk/interface/reviews/single/984463
 Meanwhile, I also visited the Museum of Everything in London's Primrose Hill, and as usual it delivered beyond expectation. Exhibition 3 is an eclectic collection of weird and wonderful stuff from Victorian screens, shell boxes and Punch and Judy to exquisite collections of taxidermy. From minature dogs to stuffed, boxed Edwardian Squirrels in a school setting, stoats wrestling and two-headed lambs, you've got to see it to believe it. Sketch-book heaven!

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

How to emerge? [or make New Year resolutions that you keep]




It is noticeable that writing one's New Year Resolutions always involves more of the word more, and less of the word less. When, so often, less is more ..... 


Message to self, and anyone else ...
Resolutions for 2011


Measurable
1. To be in studio, on studio days, by 9am latest. 
2. To give up sugar [& alcohol? Are you sure?] for January.


Less measurable but equally desirable
3. More time drawing, less time on computer. Everyone should draw.
4. Check emails less! Are you addicted to that little frisson of possibility?
5. Focus on thinking as well as making 
6. See more shows & write more reviews. Thinking about what we have seen, and writing about it is good for us.
7. More walking and talking with friends and colleagues, instead of sitting. Walking aids the thinking process and combines exercise and communication, and increases happiness endorphins. Why not walk and talk for a meeting, than sit down for a coffee at the end, and sum up the main points. 
8. Make more lists ... very satisfying, and can be ticked off!


Unmentionable but desirable
9. More paid art opportunities
10. More exhibition opportunities
11. More emerging [whatever that means]
Happy New Year, everyone!


www.annabeltilley.moonfruit.com

Monday, December 20, 2010

Message to Self

Drawing the likeness of Willow Pattern Shards, 2010. Ink and coloured pencil on cardboard. Lifesize.


I really enjoyed reading Emily Speed’s list of high and low points for 2011 on the a-n artists talking site. 
Here are mine:
High-points
Moving my practice to Deptford, albeit, on a temporary, experimental one-year-basis. Can I afford it? To be reviewed end March 2011.
Meeting new artists in Deptford who are really focussed and serious about their work.
Getting to know Deptford, and watching the art scene change and grow before my eyes. Deptford is the new Hoxton of twenty years later.
Having a studio space again where I can be alone, draw and be quiet [or listen to Mick Jagger singing Faraway Eyes with that cheeky southern lilt in his voice: see U-tube link below. It's addictive.
Getting work into the 2010 Oriel Davies Open, and the curator, Alex Boyd Saying she really liked my work. Artists need to be valued, rejection is bad for our fragile egos – which definitely need to be stroked from time to time
Taking part in Deptford X & winning a runners-up Deptford X award
Meeting Rosalind Davis, Core Gallery founder & manager
Seeing the Francis Alys at the Tate Modern
Joining the a-n blogging community – a great bonus.
Meeting Jane Boyer through an's artists talking and being invited to partner her in Relay, an exhibition at Core Gallery, Deptford.
Building a website and having 300 hits in 6 weeks
Being offered a tutorial with Graham Crowley. It has thrown my work up in the air, but given me much to think about, and new work starting to emerge as a result.
Thinking: ‘I completed an Open University MA in literature recently [in my spare time, and, of course, just for fun!] – and why am I not using that experience in my visual work? Realising, in terms of inspiration I might turn from fact [newspapers] to fiction [literature].
Having work in this year’s Discerning Eye Show, which is always quite mixed but several friends were in it, so we all enjoyed a glass of wine together, and it was a lovely evening.
Finding the artist Jo Wilton had a studio at the Old Police Station, and spending several hours, since, talking art etc
Amazingly, this week, received £58 from the payback dacs fund .... for doing nothing ... just having my work featured in a number of magazines and catalogues over the past two/three years. 
Thank you DACS!


Low-points
Being shortlisted for two shows I would have loved to have taken part in, so tantalisingly close but …….
The number of proposals, opens and exhibitions I entered work for, when you hear nothing. Not even a courteous email – just a PV invite a month later listing all the lucky beggars who got in …
All that waiting ……. to find out whether you have got into something
Jerwood Space – Had an interview in January. They loved a Fritzl piece entitled: 24 Years, [see my website, link below] which consists of 24 hand-made and drawn paper models of the Fritzl family residence. It was going to be shown on a long purpose-built shelf in the Jerwood Project Space [the cafĂ©!] and I was sooooo excited but, after a few months, I had a phone call saying: they had decided the subject-matter wasn’t  appropriate ….  I suppose I understood but I was disappointed. Then the next time I visited, and had a coffee in the Project Space, I noticed  there was a colourful array of painted magazine collages featuring … blood & guts.
Feeling a little estranged from my artist colleagues and friends in Hastings, now I spend more time in London
I looked back at my 2009/10 accounts and found I made £4,600 last year from projects and commissions. This year, £350 [!] after purposefully moving my practice 60 miles north from seaside to cityscape. 

To look forward to

Friday, December 10, 2010

From there to here


I like this time of the year because it is a chance to start again, or re-invent, finish the old and start the new.
I am beginning to look for inspiration from new subject matter; turning from newspapers to contemporary literature, moving from fact to fiction, and thinking of new ways of making work.
And of course, new ways to emerge?
This follows the crit I had three weeks ago with, artist, Graham Crowley. Two things have stayed with me since then: the observation [made about my drawings] that 'you hold our attention with something fragile and sensitive,' and the simple phrase: 'move closer to home'.

fade away
Yesterday I saw fade away at Transition Gallery, curated by Alli Sharma. Very much a show about painting today, and subtitled: 'painting between representation and abstraction'.  A carefully chosen cluster of new, emerging and emerged artists, and hung in a charming sing-song, up and down motion, that leads one eye from work to work, giving them space and rythm. I enjoyed Kaye Donachie's 'Under my hand the moonlight lay', Jo Wilmot's 'Burn', and Mahali O'Hare's 'Mickey'. As well as Clem Crosby's glorious, 'Picabia'.
So much of the works here, and later, at the Crash Open salon show at the Charlie Dutton Gallery were ambiguous. Seeing the two genres together was helpful, suddenly there seemed less distance between these two opposing positions, making one see new connections, and possibilities.
The idea that this new generation of paintings could be meditations on an uneasy world, might seem rather trite. However, coming in the wake of this summer's Jerwood painting show, which similarly presented the ambiguous, and the un-obvious, the purposefully ugly and uninhibitedly grim for us to puzzle over, it would seem there is something in the air and leads one to consider if, and how, this work might reflect the uncertain times we live in?

Saturday
On that theme, I have been re-reading Ian McEwan's prophetic and quite brilliant [if one is interested in the universal] 2005 novel Saturday. Set in February 2003, it tells the story of one day in the life of Henry Perowne, a mid-forties, well-off, happily married neurosurgeon who lives in central London. When, in the early hours of one Saturday morning, he thinks he sees a burning plane flying over London, it sets off a series of thoughts and feelings about the times he is living through. From the safety of his Georgian home, in an affluent London Square, Henry Perowne stares out from his bedroom window, and thinks:
'And now, what days are these?'
Reading those words in 2005, when the novel was first published, was for the reader, an instant and recognisable reference to a post 9/11 society, and the global fear of terrorism. The War on Terror was at its height etc, and 7/7 was still to happen - yet the novel, highly prophetic in this respect - still acknowledges the daily fear city-dwellers felt, then, about the threat of a terrorist attack.
However, today, in the wake of a new global crisis and one that is financial, on reading those words: 'And now, what days are these?' It seems our anxieties have moved closer to home, and, quite literally, as cut-backs, retrenchment and the age of austerity take hold, people fear losing their jobs and their homes, and with it, a life-style that they have become used to.
If Ian McEwan were to continue the story of Henry Perowne and he was to stand him once more at that tall sash window overlooking Fitzroy Square, that John Adam designed in the eighteenth century, the question could be the same:
'And, now, what days are these?'
but rhetorical it wouldn't be, because five years later, Perowne would conclude that as a nation we have moved closer to home, and from the global to the personal - global anxiety to personal fear - from abstract worries about terrorist attacks to doubts about financial security, and the future of home.

annabeltilley.moonfruit.com