Bumble Blogs
NATHAN BOWEN – STREET ARTIST
Nathan Bowen. British born, London based street artist commanding the graff world with his dynamic, bold and topical pieces.
I first spotted a Nathan Bowen piece when strolling around Camden Town. I was immediately captivated by the audaciousness of the work. It was unafraid, it had a commanding presence and knew it belonged exactly where it was painted. I think I was drawn to Bowen’s work because I had never seen anything like it before. It wasn’t a simple tag, but not photo realism; it was a genre in and of itself.
Studying art at Central saint Martins at just 17 years old, Bowen has a rich knowledge of the world of art. Underwhelmed with high school, Bowen took initiative and enrolled in CSM, getting in without a hitch. Yet he uses his education and talent and takes it to the streets… this I admire.
Unfortunately street artists still receive a bad rep due to the connotations of vandalism and unwarranted anarchy. It’s time we ditched the desire for pristine streets with vacant walls and all the shades of red brick one could imagine. It’s time to paint our towns and cities with works of art that inspire, motivate and most importantly facilitate. By this I mean facilitate the need for art and expand this availability to everyone, not just people who have access to prestigious galleries, not just people who can afford it, but each and every one of us. Bowen does just that. The process begins by finding abandoned buildings or dull, lifeless spaces with blank walls itching to be decorated. Sometimes though, Bowen will initiate a disguise. He has described that he can get away with working in public spaces in broad daylight under the guise of the high-vis, the ultimate camouflage.
I am a fan of this daring-ness as it preserves the adrenaline that comes from the element of illegality, an element so crucial in the origins of graffiti.
Bowen appeared as a guest on the renowned art podcast ‘Talk Art’ hosted by Russell Tovey and Robert Diament. It was during this podcast that I learnt a lot more about Bowen’s morals and motivations surrounding his work. As soon as I heard these quotes my face lit up; Bowen was saying exactly what I was thinking, and perfectly explained why I think street art is the most accessible and humble form of art. Firstly, he states that “I like to cater for all people”, which automatically earned a frantic head nod from me. He went on to explain how he felt about people stopping him whilst he is working to chat and take pictures, he says “That’s what street art does. When you do artwork in the streets, the streets are the gallery”. This factor makes the art “A communal thing”. When the streets become the gallery, it creates an unspoken sense of community, it removes the air of ego that haunts gallery walls; it invites passers by to observe, to absorb, without the expectation of an extensive knowledge of art. It brings the art to the people rather than expecting the people to come to the art.
Bowen also has an online shop in which he sells a plethora of original artworks such as the ones shown above. After looking through his website, I was pleasantly surprised at the affordability of his work. He mentioned in Talk Art how he wants to keep his work affordable and accessible to everyone, and this is very evident. Keeping prices low helps to bridge the gap between public and private art, allowing people who don’t have the luxury to spend upwards of thousands of pounds for a piece, to still participate in the commercial art world.
I distinctly remember sitting in a café, opposite a white wall, writing a piece on the history and origins of graffiti. However, it wasn’t any old white wall. Underneath the translucent paint were three ‘Demons’ – signature characters of Bowen’s creation. It was sad to see them covered up as this was around the time of Banksy’s Oscar Wilde piece on the side of Reading Gaol that was framed to protect it. It didn’t make sense then and still doesn’t now; the disparity in censorship of street art is unfair and deeply saddens me, but I digress. I am still very pleased that Reading Town got to see a piece of Bowen’s artwork for whatever fleeting time it was allowed to be there.
Each time I see Bowen’s work out and about an overwhelming sense of joy rides over me. His pieces light up the streets and are somehow ubiquitous as well as inconspicuous. He cleverly blends his work into the urban environment, showing a deep respect for the cities he works in, yet maintains his striking style that is sure to capture the attention of anyone who wants to see. So, next time you’re wandering aimlessly or running an errand, keep your eyes peeled for a Bowen… you wont regret it.
You can follow Nathan Bowen on his socials below
Instagram @nathanbowen
Facebook Nathan Bowen (street artist)
Twitter @NathanBowenArt
BILLY BAGILHOLE – A PINT AND A RITUAL
Using the pandemics mandatory isolation to his advantage, Billy Bagilhole has worked tirelessly on an up and coming series of work that showcases his thoughts and feelings from the past two years. During the pandemic a plethora of emotions were left to marinade and stew, resulting in this cathartic outburst of creativity entitled A Pint and a Ritual.
This invigorating body of work acts as a visual time capsule, eloquently telling the story of how Bagilhole experienced the many lockdowns and difficulties that came with the pandemic.
Exploring mundane themes and transforming them into magical depictions of the everyday, Bagilhole has a natural talent for storytelling. Using repeated symbols throughout his work he effortlessly ties each individual piece together, yet still manages to posit each artwork as its own entity. Recognising recurrent motifs such as wilted flowers, the sun and moon, match boxes and pints of Guinness allows the viewer to form a sort of familiarity with the pieces, creating an atmosphere of security. In this case familiarity breeds safety. When I discover an echoed symbol I feel rewarded, as if I found something that wanted to be found.
A Pint and a Ritual advertises a variety of Bagilhole’s unique, stylised and technical skills. It is obvious that he is well aquatinted with the medium of painting, yet he manages to elevate this timeless medium; commanding the material and developing a distinctive style. I am particularly fond of the way he paints the human form. In Motherhood, two dainty hands with a bird attached to each point in opposite directions, affixed to a mellow yellow background. There is such a tentative and soft way in which these are painted. Upon closer observation you are able to see the human relation between the brush and the canvas; where he has stopped, started and repeated lines. The form is simple yet completely legible, it feels genuine, it feels warm.
When I saw this next piece a wave of nostalgia and romance completely engulfed me. I was nearly brought to tears by the sheer elegance of the composition and possible connotations behind the imagery. Dead Flowers, a beautiful harmony of colours dancing across the canvas along with the lobster red couple in the centre. Hand in hand the couple waltz peacefully with each other, the mans hand placed tenderly on the woman’s back pressing dead flowers, devoid of colour, against her body. He seems to stare at her with both love and contempt. It appears difficult to fully read his intent. The small glimpse of her side profile alludes to her reluctance as she gingerly places her arm atop his in their embrace. Surrounding them is a mixture of beautifully blossomed pale blue and bright red flowers, nestled between the solemn wilted flowers hanging their heads like a guilty child. Bagilhole’s infatuation with symbolism shines through here. We begin to ponder the validity of this couples relationship, questioning if the drooping bouquet is an obvious sign of their declining companionship; yet hopeful that the radiant blooms bordering them could be an indication that passion is still alive somewhere in their hearts. Perhaps the most glaringly obvious symbol is the broken chain hanging forebodingly above their heads. A section of the chain is black, before it morphs into white, atop a black background. This monochromatic contrast just adds that extra element of dimension to the piece, another Easter egg of analysis. Then all of a sudden it’s split in two. White speckles around the break almost make an audible ‘clink’ sound relinquishing any promise of reform.
Bagilhole invites the viewers to form their own story from his pieces. Whether they’re right on the mark, or miles from reality. These pieces feel like a welcome space for interpretation, void of judgement. Where imagination is free to roam. When looking at this body of work I feel like I have been given permission to be a child again, to speculate without the fear of being wrong. Bagilhole has successfully and beautifully captured what looking at art should evoke in a person.
Bagilhole leaves no stone unturned, even decorating the sides of the canvas to completely envelope it in paint. Mallorcan Eclipse demonstrates this marvellously as small ornamental tangerines border the edges of the canvas. This piece instantly evoked a humorous reaction in me as I immediately related the shirtless beer-bellied man with personal memories. Suddenly I’m transported back to my hometown in the heat of summer, listening to charts music being pumped out of boomboxes by the very same shirtless men in deckchairs in their front gardens. British summertime…
There is a limited colour palette used here. The majority of the piece is flooded with different hues of blue, then all of a sudden you are affronted with a bright tangerine floating in the ocean. Once again the contrast is gripping. Hidden inconspicuously in the background are silhouettes of dogs faces, peering through the blue blanket. Bagilhole’s placement of random replicated symbols may confuse you at first, but when they become a familiar sight, they start to make sense. Using painting as a way to express the monotony of lockdown, he integrates an ensemble of items and things he experienced to create a cohesive piece that transforms tedium into marvel.
An overarching theme in this body of work is pure passion. It is evident through the expressive brush work in pieces like Fire on the Whistling Sands that Bagilhole works with pure joy. Yet he also seems able to assert his professionalism through his exploration of difficult topics and calculated line work as displayed in Isolation.
A Pint and a Ritual, a storyboard documenting two years of uncertainty, immortalised in paint. Offering people the opportunity to relate, interpret, re-live and experience the challenging circumstances caused by the pandemic. But the beautiful thing is that each person will encounter these pieces in completely different ways, yet will be connected by the synonymous appreciation for the ancient art of storytelling.
Ann Chang – Quarantined the Thoughts While Being in Isolation
Lockdown. A word that when we read it, we wince. A state we have all been in at least once over the last year and a half. Cooped up in our houses repeating the same mundane activities everyday can becoming nothing short of grating; that’s when artist Ann Chang made the conscious decision to immortalise her lockdown blues and contemplations in a short comic series entitled Quarantined the Thoughts While Being in Lockdown.
Created in a time of strict lockdown in London, this nostalgic comic consists of seven punchy pages of bold colour combinations, bittersweet sentiments and relatable imagery. When you view this comic it’s as if your automatic reaction is to insert yourself into the page, replacing Chang’s representation of herself with your own. That is what Chang has conveyed so beautifully in this work; an overwhelming element of relatability. She is able to deliver such a sense of unity through this piece as she aptly exhibits the reality of lockdown for the majority of us.
The first page sees Chang afloat on an orange bed, gently munching on a box of doughnuts as three grim reapers hover forebodingly over her, circling her like vultures. Her belongings are bobbing in the ocean surrounding her, drifting ever so slowly away. Yet she is helpless. The third text bubble reads, “Death was hovering above me as I devoured my doughnuts”. This scene appears to be a gruesome depiction of the hopelessness a lot of people felt so strongly throughout lockdown. The anxiety that normality would never return loomed over us like the inevitability of death. Although something about Chang’s stature, as she is perched on her floating bed, is calm. Unbothered. As if she has accepted the morbid reality she is living in. There is a satirical element that leaks through this piece; the fact that Chang is seemingly so unfazed, she is able to consume baked goods in the face of demise and isolation.
Three grim reapers. Could this possibly be a representation of the deaths caused by the pandemic? Or could it be more cryptic, such as a depiction of the haunting fear spurred on by lockdowns? No matter what, Chang has invited the viewer to speculate, interpret. This comic is an open invitation to ask questions and subsequently form your own answers. It’s accessible.
Chang’s unique style shines through here too. The contrast between the crisp outlines defining important aspects of the piece such as figures, fit congruently with the hazy fuzz of the night sky and the reapers wispy cloaks. A strong opening page, a beautiful representation of the confused feelings brought up by lockdown; a powerful visual metaphor. Afloat at sea; a sea of uncertainty.
Page two adopts a more lighthearted, yet sickeningly bittersweet tone. Chang is seen reminiscing in the shower about times when dancing wasn’t dangerous. She “Imagines being back on the dance floor with my girls and it puts a smile on my face”. Forest green figures outlined in striking orange bop joyously in the foreground, transcending the curved boundaries of the comic. This exciting visual element keeps the piece dynamic and provides dimension to a two dimensional piece of art. Once again Chang hits home with this sentiment. She welcomes the viewer to think about what they miss about normality, conjuring a soup of emotions to bubble up inside of us. Each page of this comic acts almost as a visual question, a prompt to evoke a reaction within the viewer; and it works a treat.
Within the comic as a whole is a ‘reading’ series. Pages three though five see Chang struggling to concentrate on a book she is adamant to finish. However she resorts back to her phone. It seems she takes comfort in the fact that time in lockdown is slow, non-moving almost. The book will wait for her, and so will time. Compositionally, these pieces are the least busy of them all. Still, Chang finds little ways to spark interest. At the bottom right the sofa leg peeks out the frame, diagonally opposite in the top left corner the tip of a leaf peers over the orange outline. Again, these small visual elements captivate the viewer and showcase Chang’s immense attention to detail. An aspect of these pages I am highly fond of is the motif of the vase. Throughout Chang’s earlier work you can see the repeated image of the vase. With prior knowledge to the artist, this ignites a personable and familiar atmosphere within the piece, fostering connection even though throughout lockdown, we were far apart. In these pieces the fuzzy texture of the sofa, walls and floors resemble static; possibly representing the static within Chang’s mind as she rapidly loses concentration while reading. Despite the activities shown in this comic being mundane and ordinary, there is an overriding feeling of relatability. Using humour and artistry, Chang was able to create a piece that throughout the tumultuous times we have all endured, people could empathise with. She has wonderfully displayed the power of art and its healing properties, finding refuge in her own creativity and graciously sharing it with the world.
Page six. Chang stands fatigued brushing her teeth in the mirror. A tangle of thoughts appear in the bubble above her head. Compositionally this page is my favourite one. The inception-like aura of the work is mildly perturbing, and despite there being no speech within the page, the message is clear. She is tired. Fed up, and knows tomorrow will be no different.
The last page of the comic brings some lighthearted closure. It shows us that not every moment of lockdown has been solemn. Sometimes lockdown included allowing ourselves to finally relax and slow down properly for the first time in years. Because we were finally allowed to. We were ordered to. Subsequently the relaxed state of Chang reclined on her bed surrounded by her laptop, notebook, art and food, makes us question the toxic productivity narrative that is pushed onto us every day. For a lot of us, a deadly pandemic was the first real break we’d had in a while, allowing for deep reflection and contemplation. That’s what this last page said to me: rest is productive.
Overall, this dainty and concise web comic is simple, effective, =endearing and once again relatable. It displays Chang’s instinctual ability to capture emotion in a stylised and personable format – appealing to her audience and bringing people together. It’s a COVID safe display of solidarity. It’s unity and connection through art.
Max Middlewood – Organised Chaos
Organised Chaos, the debut show from 22 year old Bristol based artist Max Middlewood. The show that truly lived up to its name. Transforming the gutted out Art Club on Bond Street, Middlewood infested the space with his brutal, mind bending work. Art Club seemed a perfect fit for this debut show as it was humming with energy and oozing with character. From the partially painted walls to the exposed wires, this space was nowhere near to being a white cube expanse. It was far better. The rawness of the space matched harmoniously with the vulnerability exhibited in the work, there was no façade to break through at Art Club, no ego to squash, just a humble yet bustling place with an appreciation for creativity.
After close encounters with illness, Middlewood took up painting just two years ago. Reflecting on his progress, he states that his work is a narrative that tells the intimate story of his illness and how he coped. When viewing the work it oftentimes feels slightly invasive, as if I have trespassed into forbidden territory. The pieces are so raw and vulnerable that it feels inappropriate to relate my own turmoils to the piece; that would be a disservice to the message, to the individual challenges of the artist. I believe when observing Organised Chaos it is only right to be mindful of the reality the work is projecting. It’s bravery on canvas.
As I entered the space I was confronted mercilessly by the piece Fear of Death hanging ominously above my head. Swinging rhythmically by a copper wire, taunting me, yet sinisterly gesturing me inside. Embodying the punk ethos of DIY, Middlewood curated, and executed this show using pure intuition. The placement of the pieces were extremely complimentary to the space, and there was clear evidence of careful consideration for the installation of the show. But not without unconventionality. Akin to Fear of Death, Alchemy was also suspended from a copper wire attached to a copper railing. Little touches such as these demonstrated the calculated approach Middlewood took to take full advantage of the space. It paid off, every available wall was filled, promoting an organic flow of traffic through the gallery.
As I waltzed through the gallery I was stopped in my tracks and paralysed by the equally humorous and savage piece Satan on Tren. Looking at this piece I felt as though I was having a stand off with said Satan on trenbolone, his bulging muscles making my meek arms twitch…I am particularly fond of the absence of any discernible structure in this work. The placement of symbols, materials and words are definitely thought out, but due to the sheer volume of content on the canvas, structure is nigh on impossible. It’s refreshing, a finger up to the traditional laws of composition. Middlewood has a knack for materiality, with all the artwork in this show being mixed media. Satan on Tren sports two additional smaller canvases that have been mounted upon the original, integrating a three dimensional, sculptural element to the piece. The sheer display of versatility in technical skill is so evident here. Satan himself is fleshed out with perfectly blended tonal values alongside his meaty counterpart to the left of the canvas; yet littered throughout the piece are scribbled drawings of demons, wonky stars and flat two toned snakes. As well as the contrast in painterly skill, Middlewood incorporates text into his work. In this particular piece the text employs a lighthearted and comedic aspect with phrases such as “Brutal slamming death metal”. This is probably an excellent place to start your journey in the gallery before getting wrapped up in the harrowing narratives that await you around the corner. I was especially enamoured with the delicate background used in this piece. A beautifully blended gradient of peach, yellow, blue and grey that envelope the canvas yet do not clash with the palette used in the foreground. There is no sign of visual dissonance here, despite the chaos.
Rounding the corner I entered the biggest space in the gallery. A space that despite the buzzing atmosphere caused by the chattering people and lively tunes bumping, was dampened by the despair communicated through the harrowing piece Personality Disorder. Here language takes centre stage; despite the powerful imagery, the words scream louder. In the top left of the piece the words “Personality Disorder” are painted delicately in chirpy juvenile colours, the letters creating a wave as they sprawl across the canvas. This approach resonated with me. The tendency to veil serious topics with irony and humour, a futile attempt at masking reality. However after pondering over this for a few minutes I considered how this could be a clever commentary on the stigmatisation of mental illness; how people glamourise it, make it ‘trendy’. By implementing this effervescent approach it seemed to make the topic more digestible. In contrast however, there are phrases nestled in amongst the repeated motifs of demons, bubbling clouds and checkerboard varieties that are straight to the point. Phrases such as “A real shift in perception when you forget what’s really happening.” There is no sugar coating here, its honest, exposed and real. It is harder to hide behind language than it is paint, and that’s why I think incorporating both into the work is such a courageous approach. A journal on canvas. The background is once again entirely gripping. Watered down paint weeps down the canvas, as if falling from the clouds situated above it. Aerosol paint loops from left to right, the words “Mood swing” morphing into the curvature of said loop. Middlewood seems to build from each layer, putting together each piece like a puzzle. There is always so much to discover in a single artwork, so much to decode. Symbolism runs rife and leaves the viewer scrambling for an explanation. The work is highly provocative, and it gets the people going.
The juxtaposition continues in the equally erratic piece Human Sacrifice. Once again utilising ironic imagery paired with on the nose barbarous language, this pieces main attraction is the bright rainbow situated in the top left of the canvas with the words “Human Sacrifice” balancing tentatively atop the arch. When standing in front of this piece it felt as though my eyes were being pulled backwards and forwards, as if I was in a game of tug of war with depth perception. It is all consuming. I felt as if I got sucked in and trapped in the universe created in the piece. Through technical displays of skill and raw and honest storytelling, Middlewood is able to command the room with his work, holding no prisoners and keeping no secrets. Every last detail appears to be a window into the mind of the artist; every point of contact on the canvas an opportunity for vulnerability that has been seized enthusiastically.
My favourite piece in terms of materiality has to be SICK/TIRED. The amalgamation of materials used here shows that sometimes less is not more, brilliantly displaying Middlewood’s affinity for mixed media. From traditional media like paint and pen, to unconventional items such as furry material, wooden pegs, string and tissue paper. SICK/TIRED is busy, and it guarantees you will not get bored looking at it. An eerily chiselled jester stares vacantly from the canvas surrounded by desperate scrawl. This is another text heavy piece that oozes with anguish. Phrases such as “The cloud hangs over me until death” sting to read. The metaphors begin to make sense and repeated symbols unravel, revealing their harrowing meanings. However, despite this piece being a consolidation of pain, it confidently asserts Middlewood’s style. It demonstrates that even in the short space of two years, he has been able to discover, nurture and develop his practice which has blossomed into some of most unique art I have ever seen.
Organised Chaos, the unbelievably visceral debut show by Max Middlewood. A confident and brave display of struggle and recovery and a beautiful depiction of how art can be such a vital component in healing.
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This exhibition was hosted by No Entry (@noentrystore) and held in Art Club (@artclubmrkt). Find Max Middlewood on Instagram (@maxmiddlewood).
Comparative Review – The Loneliness of the Soul
Infatuated with the Norwegian painter since her teen years, Emin finally got to embrace the spirit of Munch in their joint exhibition ‘The Loneliness of the Soul’ exhibited at the Royal Academy in London; publicly displaying their unrequited love affair through the resonant dialogue of both artists work. This exhibition features more than 25 pieces from Emin and 18 oils and watercolours of Munch’s, drawn from his collection and archives in Oslo, Norway.[1] Although a time period of 100 years sets them apart physically, Emin has managed to conjure the soul of Munch through the careful selection and arrangement of his artworks, that hang congruently among her visceral and oftentimes confrontational pieces.
Throughout this exhibition it is not difficult to recognise the subject matter both artists focus on. Emin in her confessional style paints mostly herself, in compromising and vulnerable states. Whereas the selection of Munch pieces are centred around women, excluding the intimacy of self-representation. That is not to say that these works lack an element of Munch’s soul. Quite the contrary. It is the case however that Munch adopts a quieter method of expression, his work appears subdued compared to the fervour oozing from Emin’s paintings. His gentile nature shines through in these pieces.
Born in Oslo, Norway in 1863 Munch, like Emin, had a childhood filled with grief. Losing his mother to tuberculosis in 1868 and his sister from the same disease when he was just 14, he was no stranger to loss. Thus he was raised by his Christian Fundamentalist father, who also suffered from various mental illnesses that would subsequently impact how he was raised. Never marrying, he lived a life of solitude, harking his paintings as his children and continually lacerating his soul and pouring the contents straight out onto the canvas, for he did “not believe in art which is not the compulsive result of a mans urge to open his heart.”[2]
Similarly, Emin had a tumultuous childhood that forced her to grow up too fast. Raised in Margate, Kent, she lived with her mother, and her father lived with them for half the week until he left completely to take up with his second family. This forced Emin and her mother into poverty. Emin was raped at only 13 and suffered two traumatic abortions. From so young she learned how cruel the world could be, but she never let it stop her, channelling her anguish and pain into the work she creates today.
Navigating this exhibition I was captivated by two pieces. Emin’s brutal ‘I never Asked to Fall in Love – You made me Feel like This’, 2018, Acrylic on canvas, and Munch’s delicate ‘Reclining Nude’, 1914-15, Oil on canvas. Both pieces depicting a nude woman lounging backwards. While similar in subject matter, the intentions differ, the use of materials wavers between the two and the resulting tone of each artwork exude distinct qualities.
‘I never Asked to Fall in Love – You made me Feel like This’ is wicked. It makes my stomach turn upon observation. When seen through the online tour, viewed comparatively against the clusters of Munch paintings, this piece is large. It is sizeable and confrontational. In the centre of the piece lays a nude figure, presumably Emin in her confessional tone. She is slouched back, defeated, leaning exhaustedly on an impression of a bed. Scrawled in a deep red, the figure is shaky, the quality of line is sketchlike, it’s nervous. The majority of the canvas is flooded with a bold hue of red, consuming the canvas slowly. Drips ascend to the top of the canvas defining gravity. To achieve this outer-dimensional effect, Emin rotates the canvas and allows the watered down acrylic to run freely off the edge of the canvas, giving liberty to her materials. This creates the illusion that the figure is also trying to ascend beyond the confines of the canvas. Behind the figures head lies a translucent white form, that could be perceived as a pillow, that also melts into the sea of red. Underneath the torso of the figure sits a black mass, that forms like mould, propping up the figure, grounding it in the piece. The harsh contrast between the bold red and black tones makes this piece all the more viscous. There is no let up, we are constantly confronted with brash colours, gestural mark making and uncomfortable emotions that are tied to this piece. To me, this is an image of a women in despair. A women that feels as though she has lost control of her emotions. To lean into the uncertainty of love is a terrifying thing to do, and that is what this piece does, bleeds fear. Interestingly the facial features of this figure have been obscured, yet a face is still somehow portrayed. Using wide, expressive strokes, Emin has managed to capture the disparity of the subject as it stares vacantly, exuding an aura of hollowness and yearning. Yearning for peace, for freedom from suffering. With red being the dominating colour of this piece, it is interesting to note the connotations of such colour. More often than not, red is associated with love and romance, which is alluded to in the title ‘I never Asked to Fall in Love’. However, Emin has fallen victim to a love she did not consent to, possibly causing more damage than euphoria. As well as implications of love, red insinuates danger and bloodshed, which is much more apt to the aura of this painting than love. The broken line work and untamed painterly trickles of acrylic imply an overt lack of control, a seemingly obvious nod to Emin’s lack of control over her emotions.
The gallery subverts the traditional ‘White Cube’ aesthetic, adopting muted navy walls, polished beige flooring and dim brooding lighting, giving the space a ‘homely’ feel, making the heavy atmosphere all the more disconcerting. It’s almost as if the viewers are lulled into a false sense of security, only to be affronted by the emotionally charged pieces hung within the façade. ‘I never Wanted to fall in Love – You made me Feel like This’ is not framed. In a literal and metaphorical sense this piece is raw. The absence of a frame implies exposure, vulnerability, both reoccurring themes in Emin’s work. The dominant red hue works well against the dull navy walls, highlighting the brutalism of the piece. There is no conflict between the gallery wall and the painting, the scale and ferocity of the piece alone sets it in place, unable to be rivalled with.
Comparatively, Munch’s ‘Reclining Nude’ embraces a more subtle approach to the nude, emitting an air of complicated tranquility, or maybe numbness. This piece is significantly smaller than Emin’s, and it is is encapsulated by a lustreless brown frame that amplifies the somber tone of the piece. While inspired by the greats of Impressionism such as Monet and Manet, and post-impressionists like Van Gogh, Munch’s work is known as symbolist. This led him to focus more on the internal view of his subjects rather than what the eye could see. Symbolist painters believed a piece should reflect an emotion or idea, rather than represent the natural world in an objective manner.[3] Created with light pencil sketching and sparse application of oil paint, this painting is demure. The limited colour palette and subsequent sparse application, consisting of reds, nudes, pinks and purples is a stark contrast to the heavy exertion of materials used by Emin. Thus the figure takes on a more elegant demeanour, as opposed to the harshness of Emin’s. However, like Emin, Munch has utilised a significant proportion of negative space, leaving the figure to hover delicately upon the faint pencil outline of a bed. This could allude to the emptiness Munch was experiencing at the time, transposed so directly into his artwork. It is vital to note that Munch, while suffering greatly with mental anguish his whole life, became more stable in his later life. After a nervous breakdown in 1908 resulting in admission to a psychiatric hospital in Copenhagen where he stayed for 8 months, Munch returned to Norway to lead a life of solitude; in which he began to experiment with a lighter colour palette and negative space[4] as seen here. With this knowledge we can assume that this piece was not fuelled so much by his crippling anxieties, but maybe the result of isolation and loneliness from lack of a companion in his later days. I think the main difference between these two pieces is intention. While both pieces focus on the same subject matter, use similar colours and composition, Munch’s does not come close to replicating the unbridled torment portrayed through Emin’s piece. It instead sings a melancholic lullaby, one that carves out a space in our hearts, but doesn’t fill it back up. Emin is visceral and charged, shears Munch is slow and lethargic. In situ, ‘Reclining Nude’ is enveloped by the vast navy walls, as thought it is being consumed by a great wave. It’s unassuming size serves it no favours here. However, when up close and intimate with the piece, you forget about the waves, and your eyes are locked inside the box that the subdued frame creates, focusing only on the corpse-like figure portrayed.
The artists relationship to the female body is imperative here. Emin, representing herself, quoted ‘I’m not happy being a feminist. It should all be over by now.”[5] Although the majority of her work aligns with the ideals of third wave feminism. However, what Emin does is that she forces viewers to encounter the taboo of the female experience. Her blunt and raw narratives surrounding abortion, rape, and loss captivate the viewer and compels them to address their own thoughts and feelings about a particular topic through the vulnerable depiction of her own female form. Munch on the other hand, was more preoccupied with matters of human mortality such as chronic illness, sexual liberation and religious aspiration. What he lacked here was the first hand experience of being a woman, yet he painted them frequently. Although, observing ‘Reclining Nude’ there is no aura of objectification or over-sexualisation…Munch has managed to capture his subject in a natural and modest way, and Emin would agree. She quotes “Munch had a deep respect for women…he was good friends with the women he painted”[6] We must also note that in no way is Emin objectifying herself either. Both artists have a firm grasp on secure femininity, but Emin uses this to express the pain and suffering she was exposed to personally, while Munch laments in his suffering through the depiction and symbolism of a subject distant from himself. To summarise, “Munch’s women are not vulnerable. They are too removed for that…they do not plead for sympathy.”[7]
The Loneliness of the Soul, of Emin and Munch’s souls. ‘I never Asked to Fall in Love – You made me Feel like This’ and “Reclining Nude’ at surface level both depict a nude woman, lying bare on some semblance of a bed. While parallels can also be made in accordance to palette and composition, the real connection is between the unseen. Both artists use(d) painting as a means of expelling their inner most turmoils; Emin, a tortured woman who’s inner child still seeks nurture and affection, and Munch, a solitary man who’s battle with anxiety and mental illness fuelled his creative desire. Turning pain into art is what connects these artists ultimately, without this crucial ingredient, would these pieces have the same weight?
Bibliography
- Royal Academy, “Tracey Emin/Edvard Munch – The Loneliness of the Soul”, accessed March 2021, https://www.royalacademy.org.uk/exhibition/tracey-emin-edvard-munch
- The Art Story, “Edvard Munch”, accessed March 2021, https://www.theartstory.org/artist/munch-edvard/
- Edvard Munch: Paintings, biography and quotes, “Edvard Munch and his Paintings”, accessed March 2021, https://www.edvardmunch.org/
- The Art Story, “Edvard Munch”, accessed March 2021, https://www.theartstory.org/artist/munch-edvard/
- The Art Story, “Tracey Emin – Biography and Legacy”, accessed March 2021, https://www.theartstory.org/artist/emin-tracey/life-and-legacy/
- Art Fund, “Tracey Emin on her 40-year Relationship with Edvard Munch”accessed March 2021, https://www.artfund.org/whats-on/more-to-see-and-do/features/tracey-emin-on-her-40-year-relationship-with-edvard-munch
- Hyperallergic, “The Melancholy Marriage of Tracey Emin and Edvard Munch”, accessed March 2021,https://hyperallergic.com/615601/tracey-emin-edvard-munch-royal-academy-of-arts/
Jo Kitchen – OFFICE
After graduating from Central Saint Martins with a degree in fine art, Jo Kitchen moved to London where she now lives and works. While Kitchen focussed on sculpture during her degree, she has recently made the seamless transition into painting; working with collage to integrate a sculptural element that pays homage to her artistic roots.
Kitchen’s work dances with the idea of romanticism and memory, capturing moments in a visual time capsule. Working from recollection also, Kitchen’s paintings are an authentic anamnesis of her purest and most treasured memories. Subject matter can include mundane everyday objects such as chairs, lamps and fruit, as well as considerately abstracted human forms that capture the fluidity of the human condition. Kitchen is able to seize a moment or object and elevate it to a hyper-romanticised state, morphing drunken escapades or prosaic activities into magical and enchanting stories through the medium of painting.
Tucked away inconspicuously in the grandiose Landsdown House, OFFICE is Kitchen’s second joint show with fellow artist Emmely Elgersma. Despite such a small exhibition space, the artwork is certainly not small in presence. Entering into the space is quite surreal; you are greeted immediately with an unusually homely purple carpet that actually compliments the pieces very well. Bouncing off of the bold colours in the artworks, the carpet almost acts as an extension of the work. This room was made for this show.
Hung on opposite walls from each other are Kitchen’s biggest pieces. Made during lockdown with limited space and access to materials, both Dancing with Our Shadows and Blacked Out convey a narrative of adaptability in regards to circumstances. Both pieces are painted onto un-stretched canvas, pulled taught using bright orange wooden bars. Hung like a tapestry, these pieces evoke comparison with ancient artefacts. Artefacts with stories embedded onto scrolls and wall hangings. This unconventional method of mounting sparks conversation around the portability and accessibility of artworks. Kitchen has shown us here that art beyond the confines of the canvas can be equally effective and convenient.
Dancing with Our Shadows is a joyous depiction of the carefree nature of the intoxicated state. In this piece, bulbous figures intertwine with one another in choreographed fluid motion. In true romantic fashion, this piece is able to display the importance of human connection regardless of the context, and shows us how valuable it is to capture these moments. Pastel blue, pink and yellow flirt with each other, whilst brash orange and harsh black penetrate the peace attacking the eyes as they scan the work. Pops of white provide respite from the chaos and break up the oceans of solid colour between the figures. It is almost as though we are invited to go on the journey depicted in the piece, and naturally we begin to recall similar instances in our life that correlate with Kitchen’s memory.
Blacked Out navigates the more extreme consequences of intoxication, yet still demonstrates these experiences in an elegant manner. Kitchen’s use of collage acts as a tangible act of piecing together fragmented memories to create a cohesive piece and recollection of the nights events. Acrylic paint coagulates around the edges of the pasted on paper, giving texture and grit to the painting. Layer after layer has been applied to these pieces creating a thick and stiff surface implying mimicry of the depth of her memories.
After talking to Kitchen more about the process she goes through when creating her work, it was clear to see that collage has well and truly engrained itself into her practice. After trying to move away from it and inevitably returning, Kitchen has found a niche that continues to give her work a unique edge that is specific to her. She has successfully pioneered her own style doing what she loves and does best.
Tucked away unassumingly in the corner of the space hang two small but mighty pieces, The Dance and Unconscious. Like the offspring of the former works, these pieces display Kitchen’s ability to navigate scale. In a more up close and personal context, The Dance and Unconscious allow the viewer to observe the intricacies of collage. Each individual piece of paper has character. It has been cut or torn in a way that is specific to it and it only; such a tactile method that displays the emotion that has gone into every rip. Tracing jagged lines and uneven tears it is refreshing to see imperfection intertwined with beauty. In the spirit of this, Kitchen even allows some collage to breach the surface of the canvas, hanging haphazardly off of the edge. Such precariousness is invigorating. Once again the rippling waves of dense paint flows across the canvas, harking back yet again to Kitchen’s humble beginnings in sculpture. The acrylic wraps around the canvases, giving them a much bolder appearance. This helps enormously to situate them on the vast white wall, granting them a significantly more confident status. Whether working large or small scale, it is evident that Kitchen is familiar and comfortable with her materials, commanding them in whatever way she pleases.
In the centre of the room stands a table adorned with eight lamps. In close collaboration with Elgersma, Kitchen dressed up three lampshades with her quirky designs. The addition of light to these designs is magical. Bright white light seeps through the cracks in the collage, illuminating the abstract shapes and elevating the vibrant colours to another level. An interesting exploration into practical art and how it can be incorporated into everyday objects.
From the first step in the door to the last, OFFICE was an intensely energising experience full of passion and of course, romance. It is clear to see that Kitchen has a pure unadulterated desire to create, devoid of ego or pretentiousness, fuelled not by commercialism but by purity and emotion. Flooded with nostalgia, I left the exhibition in a blissful state of reminiscence, learning one integral lesson from Kitchen: romanticise your existence, and hold onto your memories for dear life.
Jo Kitchen Instagram – @jo.k_
FatMum – Ignorant Tattoos for an Ignorant World
With a passion for art and tattoos void of ego, FatMum has successfully created an ignorant empire within his recently acquired studio She.fat Studio in Hackney Downs, London. After working from his home for many years, the studio is the next chapter in FatMum’s artistic journey.
I was recently lucky enough to bag a slot for a tattoo in early June after falling in love with a flash of a pair of cowboy boots. The design sold out, but not to fear, I simply enquired about a re-design and soon FatMum’s creativity presented me with the cowboy boots of my dreams.
Upon arriving to the studio I was greeted warmly by FatMum and immediately the atmosphere was relaxed and inviting. She.fat Studio was quaint and unassuming yet bursting with character. Walking in I was met with groovy tunes, smiling faces, funky décor and instantly I knew this experience would be unforgettable. In true FatMum fashion, ego was left at the door and there was not one ounce of pretentiousness in the air, just pure unadulterated passion for the craft.
FatMum began tattooing at a young age, starting out by tattooing himself and eventually his friends. Learning solely from the likes of others and with guidance from the internet, he proves you do not have to follow the traditional route of an apprenticeship, and it is in no way necessary to adhere to the formulaic pathway into professional tattooing.
The undoubtably recognisable style FatMum has adopted displays an array of unique designs, ranging from bouncing baby cherubs, to re-imagined renaissance images, to the downright spooky and humorous. His carefully considered line work is also endearingly shaky, eradicating the notion of perfection. Instead precision is replaced with humanity, his lines show evidence of human involvement and make it so we can almost see where his hand traced the paper. However, despite the tremulous line work, the form of the piece is not compromised. FatMum manages to create an image that is pure in its completion, but devoid of the somewhat paralysing accuracy of traditional tattoos. In one word, these designs are genuine.
These authentic designs all fall under the name of ‘ignorant tattoos’. Originating with the work of infamous French graffiti artist, turned tattooist Fuzi UVTPK, ignorant tattoos are tattoos that go against the grain. They’re usually simple, dealing with basic line work and minimal colour and oftentimes they are administered in less traditional spaces such as at home, or outside the conventions of a studio. Fuzi was active during the 90’s and began tattooing as part of his street culture, slowly moving away from tagging trains, bombing walls and getting into trouble. Involved with the gangs UV and TPK Fuzi began channeling his violent temperament into his art. Ignorant tattoos are all about challenging convention and cherishing the experience rather than focussing on the polished outcome. Fuzi quotes:
“I don’t give a shit if it’s perfect or not and I don’t want a photocopy on the arm made by some art school guy! A prison tattoo or an image made with only a needle in the garage of a stranger will have much more beauty for me.”[1]
This mindset is clearly evident in the work of FatMum. Sharing his thoughts on his Instagram he frequently expresses his disdain for the elitism within the tattoo community. Ignorant tattoos became a way to escape this arrogance and allow passion and love to prosper. He comments that this style “holds artistic credibility due to love and purity rather than skill and craftsmanship.” This way of thinking was amplified through my experience of the studio. Instead of finding myself lying on a cling film wrapped bench for a couple of hours making small talk with the artist, I found myself relating to FatMum and having deep and meaningful conversations where our views coalesced. The zest for art was flooding the atmosphere, and when I saw the final result I knew that this was not just going to be a tattoo, it was going to serve as a physical reminder of a day where my perspective on life changed, where I learned so much from such a short interaction. It is now clear to me that ignorant tattoos are the way forward and the key to unlocking a more inclusive and accessible realm of tattooing and art. It is blindingly evident that FatMum has immense talent in this field. My tattoo, a basic pair of cowboy boots were transformed into such an original and aesthetic piece of work. Despite the simplicity of the ignorant style, he still manages to employ artistic techniques that enhance these designs. The balance of tentative line work alongside bold black work creates an equilibrium within the piece that makes it all the more appealing, giving it dimension and form. Despite the lack of colour, the sui generis design remains punchy and eye catching.
As well as tattoos, FatMum has recently branched out into the world of painting: the ‘fine’ art world, another domain which desperately needs to be shaken up and humbled. Setting up a makeshift studio in his bedroom FatMum freely explores the flexibility of paint, using visceral movements to apply layers to canvases in an almost choreographed fashion. One of the newest paintings briefly shared with his audience was of a pink baby head idly smoking a cigarette. The background is a dusty pink, appearing rough as though the paint has been vigorously applied in a dry brushing fashion allowing for some canvas to peek through. The baby’s head floats eerily in the centre of the canvas, painted in a slightly deeper pink so as to make it stand out. Faint black outlines trace the head and features of the baby, situating it in its position. The baby seems to be in a state of undisturbed bliss with its eyes closed as it puffs on a cigarette that juts out between its gapped teeth. Initially this sounds in bad taste. However the humour immediately shines through as soon as the absurdity is realised. The limited colour palette in this piece may come across as restrictive: however it is actually highly effective in demonstrating FatMum’s ability to create depth and dimension under such limitations. Although to provide some gentle contrast to the sea of pink, there are two pastel blue hearts that perch elegantly upon the baby’s cheeks, implying an aura of purity as opposed to the destructive nature of the cigarette. Just like his tattoos this painting exudes creativity and nonconformity. It doesn’t appear forced or overthought, it exists as it is and was brought into fruition through rapture rather than obligation. One thing I learnt on my excursion to She.fat Studio is to always create for yourself, never the gallery. FatMum considers himself an artist that tattoos rather than a tattoo artist, and with his latest expansion in disciplines this fact cannot be disputed.
Ignorance may not always be bliss, but in the case of ignorant tattoos that is their sole purpose. FatMum is an excellent example that ego can be dissolved and that art can return to its purest most untouched state, free from commodification and commercialisation. Life is futile but art is forever.
FatMum Instagram – @_fatmum_
Studio Instagram – @she.fat.studio
[1] ‘Fuzi UVTPK The Brutal Tattoo Artist’, Mega Laser Magazine, accessed June 2021, http://megalaser.se/artiklar/fuzi-uvtpk/
CATALINA KING – FEMINISM AND ABSTRACTION
With a burning passion for feminism and a hunger for inspiration, Catalina King channels this powerful energy into her practice; creating large scale abstract expressionist pieces, impactful feminist prints and tender photography that balances the edge of her painting style.
King has an eye for all things art. Catching a glimpse of a cohort of colours, a beautiful composition or atmospheric light, she is able to absorb these elements and translate them into her own work. She quotes that this fact “made me want to create what I loved looking at.” From visiting a plethora of galleries throughout her studies and independently, she has been heavily exposed to the vastness of the art world. But how much does this fascination with the external art world have an impact on the work produced internally?
King discovered feminism about three years ago, before that being unaware of the movement. Once this entirely new world was opened up to her, she began noticing things that infuriated her, using this new found frustration to fuel a series of feminist art projects. One particular piece that I think really draws on this desire is her A4 lino-print ‘Love sex hate sexism’. This simple statement holds weight. Weight that it should no longer have to hold. However as women we are still battling to see equality in many areas of our lives. As demonstrated in this print, sex is still a hot topic in the feminist realm. The blatant expression of ‘Love sex’ is an empowered move alone. As women we have been conditioned to believe that sex is something that is done to us, rather than something we are an equal and enthusiastic participant in. Re-claiming our bodily autonomy through the assertion of our sexuality is powerful and affirming. This lino-print sees the words ‘Love sex’ perched triumphantly atop the statement ‘Hate sexism’almost as though it is squashing it down, in a brash attempt at diminishing the oppressive nature of the word. Printed in two instalments, the first print being in a vibrant red, layered secondly with a deep navy, creates an almost psychedelic three-dimensional effect. The font is bubbly and inflated, harking to the groovy fonts associated with the 60’s, aptly a time where peace and free-love was rampant. Encroaching in from the right side of the piece is a breast that moulds the text around it’s natural form. The nipple tapers off making direct contact with ‘Sexism’ also appearing as though it is crushing the word, expelling it from the page where it has no place in ripping the enjoyment away from the pleasure supposed to be derived from sex. The inclusion of the breast, an organ that has undergone wrongful sexualisation, again points to the reclamation of the female body. Gaining inspiration from female artists such as Tracey Emin and Carolee Schneemann, King has materialised her morals into a small yet mighty print. It’s to the point and self explanatory, after all there’s no need to dress up or play down our distaste towards sexism, gone are the days of being palatable.
Still in line with her feminist beliefs but employing a different medium, we shift our focus to one of Kings most recent paintings, entitled ‘What I think think the inside of my uterus might look like.’ Littered with scribbles and scrawls akin to the late Cy Twombly, this piece leaves little to the imagination. As I entered the studio for the first time in months I began to stroll around the space catching a glimpse of the re-animation of the studio. Admiring the work people had created in their homes, now finally able to occupy a dedicated art space. When I entered the largest room in the department, I spotted this piece in my peripheral and my heart sank. I was scared. I felt intimidated and affronted. But then as I got closer, as I confronted it, that feeling went away and never came back. What initially struck me was the size of the piece. Perfectly square and dominating. As I scanned the piece I could see the level of materiality involved in its production. Paint, pencil and ink meld together, yet also resist each other to create an equally dissonant and harmonious symphony on the canvas. A forest of white and red drips cascade vertically down the artwork, running over clusters of frantic pencil markings and sweeping movements of other various materials. The colour palette lends itself to the depiction of a uterus, it’s quite on the nose. This piece is rather bodily, as though the uterus has been inverted and smeared onto the canvas.
However, as I previously mentioned, I felt sudden dread when seeing this piece for the first time, and then it vanished; and unfortunately so did any further speculation into what meaning this piece could hold. After feeling one intense emotion, I was left hollow. I couldn’t seem to re-conjure that initial feeling no matter how long I looked at the piece. Instead I was left analysing the materiality of it, finding new lines and brush strokes that eventually left me unfulfilled as I had experienced what there was to experience all too soon. Undoubtably I admire Kings fervour to expose her intimate connection to her own body, that I will always respect. But maybe I am too external to feel the intensity of the piece as much as she can.
Overall, Kings practice is clearly and heavily influenced by the interaction she has had with artworks throughout her life, and the inspiration she garners from studying particular artists. This shines through in her work as you begin to assimilate her pieces with known artists of similar discourses. Perhaps this fact limits Kings ability to assert herself in originality in some regards, but it is not possible to make this claim while also recognising the unadulterated passion for art that King possesses. One overarching theme I take away from Kings artwork is joy. Her love and joy in art making shines through in her work. The speed in which she makes her pieces, the dynamism, and dedication. She has found her passion and she has latched onto it, creating bold and lively pieces that breathe materiality while also integrating her values and beliefs. King has something we all crave, pure creative drive.
Instagram: @cats.vis
Website: http://catalinakingart.com/
Tracey Emin - A Fortnight of Tears
Tracey Emin’s powerful 2019 exhibition ‘A Fortnight of Tears’ exhibited at The White Cube Bermondsey, in London, takes you on an emotionally charged journey through trauma, grief, insomnia and self-reflection. The title of the exhibition remained dormant in Emin’s mind for 15 years, waiting patiently for the appropriate opportunity to be launched into the world. She quotes, “It’s the longest I’ve ever cried for, I think, a fortnight.”[1] Installed throughout are an extensive variety of works; ranging from large scale expressive paintings, sculpture, film, neon, photography and drawings; taking you on a tumultuous journey through the inner workings of Emin’s troubled mind and damaged heart. Creating an atmosphere of vivid evocation, Emin successfully brings to light the trials and tribulations of the human condition.
Born in Croydon, and raised in Margate, Kent, Tracey Emin is world renowned for her deeply personal, confessional and autobiographical artworks; heralding the previous title of ‘enfant terrible’ of the Young British Artists during the 1980’s, likely due to her unconventional, yet captivatingly bold nature. Now a Royal Academician, Emin continues to push the boundaries of art and of herself. She shook the world in 1999 when her provocative piece ‘My Bed’ (1998), was first exhibited at the Tate, later to be shortlisted for the Turner Prize. No stranger to tragedy, Emin uses her practice to process and heal from her traumas. Having experienced ordeals such as rape and abuse, two botched abortions and the loss of both of her parents, her artwork is a visceral display of anguish that leaves the viewer with a heavy heart and racing mind. ‘A Fortnight of Tears’ allows us to tentatively step into the battered shoes of the brave and tortured artist, Tracey Emin.
Entering the gallery space is like leaping into another dimension. The polished concrete floors allow you to glide through the conjoining rooms with ease. Each space bathed in a bright light that reflects off of the brilliant white walls, whilst also simultaneously being seeped up by a select few dull grey walls. However, despite the vastness of the gallery, Emin’s work commands the space. With large scale pieces such as ‘Insomnia’ dominating entire rooms. 50, 198 x 152.4cm giclée prints hang triumphantly in a large room. Arranged in a formulaic manner, the photographs are stacked on top of each other in two neat rows, almost akin to a salon arrangement. The scale of these prints is almost oppressive, as Emin’s exhausted face looms over the viewer as they join her in her most vulnerable state: tired and lifeless. On the contrary, we also join Emin in an incredibly intimate moment. She is clad in her nightwear and we get a very personal insight to the artist’s very human life. Momentarily it feels as though we are lying next to Emin, sharing her frustration in the early hours of the morning. We are exposed to the raw realities of her insomnia, observing heavy bags under her tired eyes, bruises and wounds to her restless face. It all seems rather intrusive. But that’s the point, Emin is allowing us, for a brief moment, to step into her private life, to experience her soul-sucking bouts of insomnia alongside her. Varying degrees of light bathe her face in each print. Illuminating the creases of her pillow, and face, differently each time. From warm yet somber yellows, to deeply melancholic purples, all the way to the clinical hue of dazzling white, the wide array of tones almost take us through the stages of the night; possibly mirroring the mood of the artist as she snapped the photograph.
In a tormented wall text, Emin describes her insomnia as “My painful journey to sleep… it’s like dying from the inside.”[2] This utter disparity, whilst being alone, fatigued and utterly defeated lying in her bed, is captured perfectly in the prints. They are like a cry for help, with Emin silently screaming from within the photograph. Although, I’d like to think of these portraits as a rebellion against said insomnia. A process of recognising and documenting a problem so it no longer holds so much power over you. Maybe, the persistence of Emin’s artistic practice is strong enough to duel the nagging ferocity of her insomnia.
Scaled up from small clay models, ‘The Mother’ (2017) is part of a trio of bronze cast sculptures that plant themselves firmly and assertively in the gallery space. Among her many influences is the iconic Norwegian painter, Edvard Munch. Drawn to his highly emotive artwork and gentle demeanour, Emin demonstrates her admiration for the painter through her own interpretation of expression. Like Emin, Munch had experienced the loss of his mother. In a generous and heartfelt gesture, Emin created ‘The Mother’ as a gift to the deceased artist, an offering of a mother that he lost at such a young age. Kneeling naked, cradling an invisible child, this piece demonstrates the unadulterated love a mother has for her child, something that Emin and Munch alike, were robbed of. The fingerprints of the artist are engraved into this piece, creating a mountain range across the surface. Light cascades onto the figure, flowing like miniature waterfalls over and in each individual crevice. There is an atmosphere of grief and loss that hovers around this piece like a thick fog. It sucks you in and forces you to feel the pain that the two artists have experienced. The figures arched posture communicates a feeling of despair that surges through the piece. Resting heavily on her knees ‘The Mother’ is a figurehead for that unique bond between mother and child. However, the ‘invisible’ child reverses the roles here. It is not just the artists without a mother now, but the mother lacking the child to cradle gently in her arms. An expression of anguish waves over the figures face, reflecting what both Munch and Emin were likely feeling as they lost their own mothers. Brooding, honest and immense, ‘The Mother’ is a statement in itself, conjuring deep emotion and careful speculation.
It is impossible to ignore the invigoratingly expressive paintings that are littered throughout this exhibition. Explosive brush strokes dance across the canvases, telling harrowing stories from Emin’s life. Most notably to me are the paintings documenting her tragic abortions she endured when only a teenager. ‘The Abortion Waiting Room 1990’ (2018) is one of these powerful pieces. Acrylic paint bathes this neutral toned canvas with pure dread. A limited colour palette is used, but this does not retract from the intense sentiment of the piece. The piece is split down the middle into two ‘separate’ figures by a wavering deep red line. Both have been painted using that same deep red, the use of line is simple, yet it seems shaky, drawing homage to another of her major influences, Egon Schiele. It is as though feelings have travelled down Emin’s arm like an electric current, diffusing onto the canvas through her brush. A transparent white wash of acrylic glazes over the two figures joining them together giving a sense of continuity, almost acting as a protective film from the horrors that Emin would endure once she leaves that room. The left side of the canvas sees a figure sitting tentatively, its bold red outline filled in with a soft pink, then obscured by the thin layer of white acrylic. It’s counterpart lacks this subtle pink hue, and is stripped back to the red ‘bones’; above its head hovers a large circle, mimicking that of a halo. Emin herself is not affiliated with any religion, however she makes it clear that she believes in the ‘soul’, introspectively reflecting on her life and achievements, she reveals “I felt that, in return for my children’s souls, I had been given my success.”[3] There is an element of guilt exuded here, as though she was given the most difficult ultimatum that was completely out of her control. However, over time, Emin has come to terms with her reality and now feels proud of her accomplishments, stating that she is “The kind of mother that gives birth to a creative notion”.[4] Adapting from her grief and reframing her life, Emin finds strength in art.
The fragile separation between these two figures harks at the idea of Emin ‘before and after’ her abortion. The left figure depicts a woman who is shrouded by guilt, possibly represented by the white film engulfing the figure. Whereas the right figure, void of most of this white film emits more of a ‘heavy’ atmosphere. The harsh red line work is jarring, the figure appears weighted, I get the feeling of rapid ageing… the sense that Emin grew up significantly quickly after this traumatic experience. With the recent legalisation of abortion in Argentina, ‘The Abortion Waiting Room 1990’, despite being a depiction of a painful memory, is also a comforting reminder that as women, we should have and are still fighting to have, safe access to these services, to remain in control of our own bodies.
Waltzing through the gallery, I was suddenly transfixed upon one particular painting. Lured in as though I was in a trance, I was unable to peel my eyes away from the piece. Once again referencing the devastating death of her mother, ‘I Was too Young to Be Carrying Your Ashes’ 2017-18, is doused in a gut-wrenching ambience. The delicate pencil work buried beneath the brutal red acrylic acts almost as a harsh reminder of the age and innocence of Emin at the time of this tragedy. It’s infantile scrawl is overpowered by the alarming red that is frantically applied to form the figure. With connotations of a plethora of negative emotions…red seems appropriate for the occasion. The simple line work of the box in which Emin’s mother’s ashes reside is depressing. There need not be any sugar coating, it is what it is. However, the thick and brash application of the paint onto the figure, compensates for this. The application is dense, there is evidence of dry brushing, resulting in faded strokes that melt into the beige background. The fervour in which this piece has been created is indisputable. Even the title is highly evocative. I admire Emin’s ability to recognise her trauma, ‘I Was too Young’, I believe her capacity to become acquainted with her hardships aids her creative ability. By not running from them, she allows her unbridled pain to be translated onto canvas.
A welcome break from the intensity of her brutal paintings and enormous sculptures comes in the form of neon. ‘I Longed For You’ (2019) comprises a poetic piece of writing mounted on the gallery wall, shaped daintily into cursive font. Installed on a central wall in the middle of a vast room, measuring 308.6 x 470cm, the winding letters lure you in, inviting you to read the inner thoughts of the artists mind. Emin views text as a stream of consciousness, and here she touches on themes of love and yet again, loss. The random capitalisation throughout is abrupt and disturbs the flow of the text, however she is not focussed on perfect English, merely getting her message across. The soft glow of the neon is comforting, lulling the viewer into some sense of security, that is ultimately destroyed while walking through the rest of the harrowing gallery.
‘A Fortnight of Tears’, a lifetime of misfortune, has all gone into the careful curation of this groundbreaking exhibition. Entering the gallery with an open state of mind, and leaving with your head whirling and heart hurting. Conjuring up the deepest emotions, Emin has successfully lived up to her ‘confessional’ title, navigating difficult and traumatic topics with elegant ferocity. Emotionally exhausted yet artistically fulfilled, ‘A Fortnight of Tears’ has it all.
[1] Wallpaper.com – 9/02/19
[2] Wall text, White Cube Gallery, Fortnight of Tears, Tracey Emin, 2019
[3] The Independent, ‘Tracey Emin’, 29/01/09
[4] The Independent, ‘Tracey Emin’, 29/01/09
TOM MCINTYRE – SHAPE IN PERSPECTIVE
25 year old up and coming artist Tom McIntyre has confidently and creatively asserted himself within the expansive world of abstraction. Currently studying for his BA in Art at the University of Reading, while also gaining increasing success with commissions, McIntyre already has an extensive variety of work to show for himself.
Working intimately with mixed media and pushing the boundaries of abstraction, McIntyre’s artwork takes you on a psychedelic journey through colour, shape, form and existentialism. Guided by his intuition, it is clear that each and every decision put into a piece of work is highly calculated, emotionally and materially. He quotes, “My personal belief is there is reason and meaning behind everything we do”. Purely driven by the guttural urge to create, McIntyre is able to conjure up pieces of art that stimulate the human sensorium, capturing his audience with a carnival of colours, sharp lines and a looming sense of mystery…
In the midst of the uncertainty of 2020, creativity has been a crutch for a lot of us. Something we can use to express our frustrations, anxiety’s and emotions. In a recent series entitled ‘All Consuming’ we see McIntyre’s interpretation of the torrid year we have all endured. Consisting of 5 captivating paintings, titled individually with the names of various narcotics, this series appears as a commentary on the rise of suicide and substance abuse rates in 2020.
‘C21H30O2’ (Tetrahydrocannabinol), is an astonishingly vibrant piece that induces the viewer into a trace like state, much like the narcotic it is named after. Perfectly square, the symmetry creates a false sense of security before you are sucked into the diagonal gradient that brutally slices the piece in half. One smaller square in the centre of the piece provides refuge to the viewers eye after tracing the hypnotising terrain of the rest of the piece. McIntyre creates perfect borders of paint around the central square, using masking tape to ensure these crisp edges are consistent. It seems as though this piece harks at two alternate states of the brain, demonstrating the slow slip into inebriation. The top right side of the canvas utilises a mostly monochrome palette, complimented with the green and orange hues that plague the left side. These colours seep into the sober mind, the catalyst for intoxication. Whereas the left displays a mind in bliss. With only hints of the neutral black, the canvas is enveloped with the orange and green gradient that mix so effortlessly together through the careful use of aerosol paint. Having discovered his passion for painting through art therapy, it’s seems that McIntyre has either consciously or subconsciously applied this fact to his own work. ‘All Consuming’ exudes a therapeutic aura in itself. Informing the viewers of the rapid rise in suicide and substance abuse, while confronting them with mesmerising art seems a tactical way to promote the severity of the situation at hand, all the while providing solace through art.
From the same series is ‘C11H15NO2’ (MDMA). A symphony of colours explode on the canvas before you. Once again integrating the shape motif, this time in the form of rectangles. McIntyre creates a vortex in which it is all too easy to lose yourself in. As you stare more intently at the piece it almost feels as though you are falling into it. One trip and you are being sucked into the alternate universe the painting holds. A soft yellow strip separates the dominating pink and purple tones, providing relief to the eye, not ignoring however the
diffused pink/purple splatters that encroach onto it. Perhaps the most meticulous aspect of this painting are the formulaic outlines that border the black rectangles. These strategic lines cause the eye to bounce around the piece, sending the viewer into a state of dazed confusion, having to recalibrate their vision when they finally peel their eyes away.
Self proclaimed as a ‘Mixed Media Artist’ McIntyre manipulates the materials he uses and commands them to work for him. Controlling aerosol paint in such an effective way is evident throughout this series, creating even diffusion and seamless gradients.
On the contrary, McIntyre is no stranger to the element of chance. Embodying the spirit of Jackson Pollock, ‘UNTETHERED’ sees black acrylic hauled mercilessly at raw canvas. The paint detonates upon impact, sprawling across the canvas creating splatters and drips that consume the negative space as though energy has surged through McIntyre’s arms and into the paint can. All the while the neutral hue of the canvas peers through the forest of drips. Of course it it impossible to ignore the intrusive ‘target’ positioned just right of the centre. Three bold red rings sit firmly upon the coated black background, providing beautiful contrast. Inference points to the ‘target’ as being some sort of goal that the artist or viewer is trying to achieve. Or possibly the red rings could imply being tethered and caged, while the free flowing black paint represents the unhindered state that is just beyond the constraints either you or the world around you sets. Wherever freedom lies, whether that is within the confines of the rings or beyond them, the juxtaposition of techniques in this piece shows no restraint whatsoever. The scrupulous precision of the ‘target’ against the brash application the black acrylic is truly a visual depiction of indecision. To tether or not to tether?
From his innate urge to create as a child, to his successful application of that today, Tom McIntyre is bringing new and interesting artworks into the world; paired with spiritual and philosophical theories to accompany the mind-bending pieces he makes. Drawing inspiration from the people who support him the most, McIntyre’s work positions itself as true to themselves and to him. Derived from the genuine pleasure of making, his artworks embody sincerity, spurring on enchanted viewers to pick up the brush and create.
Tom McIntyre is continually looking to exhibit work, and is currently looking for an opportunity to possibly exhibit in his first solo show when possible. If you would like to contact him you can do so via email or his Instagram account.
Email: Shapeinperpective@outlook.com
Instagram: @shapeinperspective
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