Tuesday, 11 October 2011

George Shaw // "my attempt to be human being"



Looking at the nominations for the Turner prize this year, George Shaw is the artist that stands out for me, perhaps because his work is so strangely quiet and small. It also feels very human.



In an interview, he comments about when he was in art school how other students described a painting of his house as sentimental, as if it was an inferior emotion or concept for contemporary art. But, we are sentimental and nostalgic. I become attached to places and objects because they hold a memory or are symbolic of a time or place to me. I also make connections between a place and the narrative of my life. In many ways these paintings are are much more like self-portraits than the realistic representations they first appear to be.

Shaw's paintings should be dull, but I find them fascinating and evocative of a particular emotion that I can't quite describe. I think it's a combination of frustration, nostalgia, sadness and boredom.
I probably connect to them so much because they almost perfectly depict the atmosphere of some of the areas I live in. Some paintings even look identical to places I walk past every day. I suppose it makes me interpret them with the feeling of being trapped in a non-descript, provincial town and the sometimes suffocating nostalgia of having lived within it all of my life.

Art can be most affecting when representing a common feeling. It's the same reason I like some of Tracy Emin's work, like her wall hangings. They are unapologetically emotional and sentimental, but I can connect to them because of a feeling or thought I have shared with her. Shaw's paintings also present this. They also prove that small, subdued and banal can have an unexpected, complex emotional power.
















Monday, 10 October 2011

Newcastle // The Baltic


While I was in Newcastle the other weekend I had chance 
to go to the Baltic. They're starting to get ready for the Turner Prize so there weren't many exhibitions but there was however a small collection of work by Maurizio Anzeri that caught my attention. 

I'd come across his work before but not in real life. I hadn't realised how small the pieces are. It makes them strangely personal and intimate. 
His art seems to bring together a couple of fascinations we have within our society and media. Firstly, through his use of found vintage photographs, our obsession with the past; our constant nostalgia for times that seem alien to the world we live in, seen in the vintage style clothes we wear and the period dramas we watch. And secondly, being drawn to things that we find unnerving and that frighten us. 

The pieces, although very beautifully threaded and designed, are very unnerving. I think it's an instinctual fear; an obscured face is frightening to us. You can't read it or recognise it's features so it takes on a creature-like and monstrous appearance. But also comic, espeically in the complete juxtaposition between the often sophisticated poses and the obscure tribalesque pattern imprinted over the top.

At first I thought his art was about the way we read and interpret faces but after reading the interview I've linked to below, I've realised the concept is much more poignant and poetic. It's about the loss of identity which will happen to all of us one day. Even without their faces covered, they would still be unidentifiable.



Here's a quick sketch I did whilst in the gallery. It was interesting drawing directly from the pieces because of the different lines and shapes that now makes up the portrait.