Showing posts with label comptemporary sculpture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comptemporary sculpture. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Beneath the Blue - Joanna Langford



Just fresh from the NewDowse where she has installed a work for the exhibition Under Construction, Joanna Langford moved into our space for the weekend to hang and construct Beneath the Blue.

We talked to Jo about the work and possible new directions for her 'architecture of the fantastical'.

MNG: Someone said something interesting about your work recently in the context of your use of skewers. They said that traditionally that was how sculpture and spatial relationships were taught at art schools, using skewers to delineate space and as the basis for forms. Which makes your work as much as sculpture as it does about architecture... any thoughts on that?

JL: I think of my work as installation or sculpture or paintings in real space. In a way I think it's all quite similar - there is an interest in materials, form, space and illusion.

MNG: These latest wall works also seem to be about some kind of expanded painting or drawing, would you agree?

JL: I do a lot of photoshop drawings when I am working towards an installation. This allows me to play with the materials and motifs in virtual space. The wall works that I made for Beneath the Blue originated from these drawings. I had also painted a wall in my studio blue to create a ‘blue screen’ for an animation I am making (a blue screen of green screen is often used in film so you can film action in the foreground and add a back ground later). I started to adopt this screen for the background for my drawings.

MNG: With the floor works we are back in familiar Jo Langford territory, except that the view has shifted to Iceland or the Antarctic...

JL: Imagery of Iceland has been lurking in my consciousness since I did a residency there in 2008. I am interested in landscapes that exist in the real but that have a feeling of the fantastic. Iceland is one of these places. The expansive lava fields and smoky geothermal happenings in the snow-scape makes it feel otherworldly. There is also a sense of unease in this landscape that hints at the drama that is going on beneath us - a mass that is in flux, a gurgling and surging up.

MNG: In earlier work you have used liquorcie allsorts and wafers to build your constructions and in the Any Dream series you have used icing sugar. How do you connect confectionary and the landscape/urbanscape (the delicacy seems perfect)?

JL: I am primarily interested in the formal qualities of these materials - the color and texture.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

From the stairway to the heavens - Joanna Langford


Joanna Langford's Beneath the Blue series moves away from her 'stairways to heavens', and finds us up above the streets amongst the clouds in an urban skyline clutterd with aerials, and cell phone towers.

Delicate threads 'draw' silhouettes of masting lit by tiny LED lights that glow from their uppermost tips.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid Daddy

We talked to Scott Eady about his recent exhibition Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid Daddy.



MNG: In the past your work has taken a humorous look at masculinity as it manifests locally. This new work seems to be about the anxieties of parenting, but there are some tongue-in-cheek references to 'child prodigies' and 'o my child could do that' attitudes to art. The humour of the small bronzes off-sets that very sad clown. What was your thinking there?

SE: Parenting has to be the toughest yet most rewarding job in the universe. But it comes with enormous responsibility – a responsibility that translates to a universal anxiety which I can only imagine all parents must experience. We want to protect our children from all dangers but realise the need to instil them with the skills and tools necessary to negotiate a not-always friendly world.

Apparently children laugh on average 300 times a day. Adults laugh on average only 15 times a day. Why is that? I guess for adults, it is RESPONSIBILITY and the knowledge that innocence is only short-lived.

Give a child a few blocks of ‘Dukit’ (bakeable modelling plastcine) and within minutes the baking tray will be full with playful, colourful forms. Give an adult the same material and they will likely over-think the process, the material and the expected outcome until the whole exercise becomes unproductive or silly.

The reference to ‘child prodigies’ is intentionally tongue-in-cheek. Yes ‘one’s child could do that’, they could make the ‘Dukit’ marquettes - they take only minutes. But to then employ the complicated and costly process of enlarging the marquettes, making silicone rubber moulds and finally casting in bronze and painting them, is just absurd, stupid even.



We are so accustomed to seeing the bronze uber-monument, so a tiny brightly painted bronze on a narrow plinth, a scaled-up figure by one of your three children - actually a whole series of painted bronzes - is quite another experience.

Why paint the bronzes? Why scale up children's marquettes? So many people seem to take offence at the idea of painted bronze. I don’t understand why. Traders of scrap metal value bronze quite differently to the art world even though many of the industrial scrap forms found at a yard could well have come from the same furnace used to produce a bronze sculpture.

Bronze is not a precious metal, yet to my children it represents treasure. They would often sift through the foundry sand in search of small bronze spills. We would polish the small pieces and they would trade them like gold at school.

The colour (paint) applied to the finished bronzes brought all the joy back to the forms. Unpainted, the sculptures were bronze forms first and foremost. They spoke of the material and it’s history. By painting the objects the material and the history remained but came second to form and colour. The glossy paint finish heightens the desire to touch and hold the objects at which point the weight also revealed the material.



The huge drawing also looked fantastic as bare aluminium, however the material once again dominated, diminishing the importance of the line. By powder coating the drawing black the line became all important and the aluminium all but disappeared. By scaling-up my children’s marquettes in bronze I was effectively monumentalising their work - making permanent things that would otherwise eventually disappear into the ether (trash).

MNG: You have written about wanting to give your children a positive experience of having an artist as a father? How did you do that in relation to this exhibition?

SE: It is really important to me that I spend loads of quality time with my family. Like most parents, this requires juggling work commitments and domestic duties in order to create that time. I want my children to remember me as a good family man. By including my children in the process of making the exhibition Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid Daddy, we got to spend lots of time together and rather than my work be something foreign to them they took ownership of the forms, the ideas and even the titles.

MNG: Dubuffet and other Modernists were of course interested in the drawings of children, and you have mentioned Modernism in the context of the exhibition. What was your thinking there?

SE: Give a young child a pencil and paper and they will immediately produce marks/images. They do not hesitate. It was the freeing from intellectual concerns that affected Jean Dubuffet’s interest in ‘Outsider Art’ and art produced by children. He recognised in the work, an unlocking of the artists’ most basic creative instincts, a strategy he employed in the production of his own work which he chose to term “raw art”(Art Brut).

Personally I am not sure it is possible for an art-schooled adult, to free him/herself completely from intellectual concerns. I had great difficulty making and justifying the making of my own abstract clay forms as they were not honest. My children made them honest.

That said, I cannot help but be impressed by Urs Fischer’s recent hulking, lumpy cast aluminium sculptures which are simply scaled-up handfuls of squeezed clay. Despite their fully abstract forms the sculptures are still humanlike; in fact, they remind me a lot of the figurative bronzes produced by Willem de Kooning in the 1970’s. It seems it is difficult to escape the figure. Even my children found it necessary to give most the works human or animal related titles.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Lonnie Hutchinson & Hand Maid in Mt Albert













Lonnie Hutchinson's work often carries a sub-text. It's only apparent here in the title - Hand Maid in Mt Albert - and perhaps in the doily like shapes of some of the cut-outs that make up this installation. It's a subtext about the place of Polynesian women in contemporary society, about 'craft' (that much disputed word), about sculpture, about applied art. In this work, the notion of sculpture is ephemeral and fragile - with implied movement and a lightness of touch.