Seven artists at the Jerwood

The Jerwood Gallery is currently exhibiting work by contemporary and internationally recognized artists with a close association to Hastings. The exhibition has opened alongside a new hang of the Jerwood Gallery’s permanent collection rooms.

Hot reporter Joe Fearn cast his eye over the exhibition Knock Knock: Seven Artists in Hastings, which showcases work by artists Fiona Banner, Becky Beasley, Professor Stephen Buckley, Jane Hilton, Martin Maloney, Alessandro Raho and Mario Rossi.

Artist, Professor Gerard Hemsworth, a relatively recent resident, having moved his studio to Hastings in 2010, curates the show, and he spoke of the impressive local artistic talent available for the exhibition, a testament to the cultural richness of the area, and the way that Hastings continues to be a source of inspiration and a magnet for artists.

Hemsworth explains his concept behind bringing the works of these artists together:

What is common in the works is a curious absurdity and a delightful awkwardness, where the artists manipulate both the language and the concepts they employ. The viewer is invited to go beyond their expectations and address the complexity of these works, which are both disconcerting and haunting.

The visitor would do well to heed the above explanation as they eagerly step inside the galleries. For example, the first work to confront the viewer is by Fiona Banner. It is two palettes of silver coloured ingots, entitled Metal from BAe Sea Harrier aircraft, ZE695 and Sepecat Jaguar aircraft, XZ118. Curiously absurd indeed, melt down two aeroplanes into ingots, place them in an Art Gallery and there you have it: planeness. These ‘trophy objects’ do at first, as Hemsworth suggests (discussing the whole show, not specifically this artwork, see above) seem awkward, but eventually, they manage to communicate a disconcerting feeling of loss, a stark recognition leaving a haunting memory of a previous life before ignominious reduction realises the inevitability of entropy. The work has a Zen-like feel to it; I was reminded of the Scottish philosopher David Hume’s ‘bundle theory’ of personal identity as a collection of aggregates.

While observing the photographs of American Cowboys by Jane Hilton, I was lucky enough to talk to the artist, and she explained that the paradox of photographing cowboys at home, and showing their obsession with the lifestyle, was more fascinating to her than depicting them on a horse. She found it extraordinary that they seemed to bring the outside inside. You can see this clearly in their portraits, each looking awkward in their oversize cowboy hats, in photos taken in the Cowboys’ bedrooms, where they spend the least amount of time. The bedrooms appear immaculate despite their harsh working environment, while a window acts as a constant reminder of the world outside.

Mario Rossi’s seascapes appear to be photographs, yet closer inspection reveals their true nature as paintings. The best description is possibly that they are photo-derived. Martin Herbert has commented on the difficulty and potentials of representation, in the way Rossi has somehow fixed an effervescent, by drawing attention to the way that Rossi’s seascapes point perpetually to their own constructed nature (M. Herbert: Wave Machines). There is present enough careful artificiality to suggest that the viewer must self-consciously reflect on the artifice, while simultaneously recognizing that they have noticed it and are thus partaking in the process. In doing this, the seer takes part in a restless mental shoogle-tide. Herbert highlights this process:

We watch; we watch ourselves watching, rethinking, and ideally rising above binaries.

So look carefully folks, there’s a wake on the wall!

Prima facie, these artists seem to have nothing in common, appearing hardly to share a concept or interest. It could be thought that presenting them together would do nothing more than undermine one another. However, the visitor should again keep the curator’s explanation in mind, for it is the differences themselves that incite a dialogue between and beyond the works. As Hemsworth insists:

The work in this exhibition needs no justification and the exhibition itself presents an opportunity to engage with these different strategies and agendas in the context of differing and challenging positions, which enhance rather than undermine the strength of the individual artists.

I could readily relate to Fiona Banner’s other exhibits, concerning Snoopy and The Red Baron. The work entitled The Complete Text of Snoopy’s Novel references the combative relations between Snoopy and his nemesis, but also the acrimonious copyright issues surrounding creative ownership, since Schultz historically sued after the song Snoopy Vs The Red Baron became a hit for Florida based band The Royal Guardsmen in 1966. Her accompanying artwork called The Complete Text of Snoopy’s Novel: Filed Under Greatness explores our tendency to mythologize ourselves, and our histories, and how we are seduced by the myths of our own creation. The image of the crest of The Red Baron and the overlying text of Snoopy appears defiled or erased, suggesting censorship or even destruction, but also alluding to re-drafting and the creative act itself. I’m not sure of the impact of putting the two works so close together. Banner’s other work, Dear Contributor, by itself on the far wall, depicts a humorous vitriolic reply by an irate publisher to a hapless author. The work is presented on a fire-blanket.

Continuing the literature narrative (among many other narratives) is the work of St. Leonards based artist Becky Beasley. Beasley works with sculpture and photography to ask questions about both, and she investigates what happens when photographic questions are asked of the sculptural. As minimal as the artworks appear, they unexpectedly open onto literature and engage deeply with creative writing. Take for example her exhibit of a book made of wood, painted black, which also references another shape (she told me it was the shape of her studio). This striking work is relatively small and tucked away on a shelf, and appears quite mute, and yet, the curator’s words directly apply here:

(The art on show)…manipulates both language and concepts, by exploring both image and the limits of language…

We might add, following the early Wittgenstein, that what cannot be said can nevertheless be shown.

To engage with this particular artwork by Becky Beasley, and with her other two exhibits, is to connect with a disposition infused in all the affecting artworks, like coming across the early morning footprints of a fox in the snow: language without words.

Many people at the private view enjoyed the remaining artworks, as will many of the visiting public. However, it would have been advantageous to talk with the three remaining artists about their work. I only managed an imprecise appreciation.

Alessandro Raho paints portraits of his family and friends. They stare out from a uniform background, isolated, as if posed in a Debenhams catalogue. However, these works are not clinical, because the artist has captured significance in their facial expressions, thereby conveying something of their mood.

Martin Maloney paints a couple of dogs that resemble Gnasher in The Beano. They take centre stage while Human presence is minimized to a hand or a leg. He also paints large abstract figures with multiple heads in sections, rather like the record cover of Split, the first album by ‘70’s rock group Groundhogs. The accompanying handout says it’s all to do with reconciling stability with change.

Stephen Buckley, the handout says, has for more than forty years, concerned himself with addressing the major themes of the twentieth century through a personal style oscillating between the métier of Kurt Schwitters, the dandyism of Francis Picabia and the intellectual rigour of Marcel Duchamp by deconstruction and reconstruction. Eventually self-reference was inevitable.

The Jerwood has a successful curatorial of an ambitious show of seven artists with differing narratives resulting in a denouement of productive dialogue.

Knock Knock: Seven Artists in Hastings

Jerwood Art Gallery, Rock A Nore, Hastings.

February 2 2013 until April 17 2013.

Also in: Visual Arts

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