12th August - 10th September 2010
VIP and Press - 12th August 2010 6 - 9.30 pm
FOREWORD By Garry Hunter
‘PAGE’ draws on the first letters of the names of the three painters with the added suffix ‘E’ for exhibition. Here curator Daniela Bianco presents the second installment of this gripping series at 203 Brompton Road, SW3 1LA where we are invited to turn over the page and ‘GAPE.’ This collection of all-new work marks a shift in gear from all three of the artists, who have been intensely active in recent weeks bringing their constantly evolving practices to new levels, since the highly successful PAGE 1 exhibition in Spring 2010.
Hope drives a sleek yet rusted Cadillac in the vision of Graham Carrick, as he delves his mental hinterland with the volume turned on full. Soul flailed and honesty a naked flame, he drinks deep from the vessel of his age, gently hand-washing his psyche in the kitchen sink of art, referencing the drama of spectacle and the fascination of audience. He caricatures celebrity by deconstructing definitive rock star iconography, distorting their legend by peeling away the veneer of a carefully constructed public image. Carrick’s more recent forays away from the figurative have produced jagged abstraction, lines looking for a route that could be of any scale; the micro-universe inhabited by human stem cells or the seductive geometry of a spider’s web. We can all imagine what is represented by this short-circuiting of form, where the language of colour and shade demands the most personal of translations.
‘How clearly doth he expose the emptiness and vanity of that phantom, reputation !’
Page 2, Chapter 1, Book 1, from Joseph Andrews by Henry Fielding 1742.
Attention to minute detail within systems of chance mark the process of development in the paintings of Ansii Sojakka, where expansive chains represent subtle ties to his family and a malleable link to the concept of ‘home’ in his land of birth, that is not just a physical location, but a deep sense of belonging. For PAGE 2, Sojakka forensically investigates remnants of home life, with evidence exposed and documented; domestic skulduggery, perhaps even pyromania. The gothic shell of Who Lives in a House Like This resembles a burnt film negative, its emulsion reticulated almost beyond recognition within the shock of intense heat. His work inhabits the night, with Nocturne lit by candlelight, spilling across the canvas, the focus of the painting the very illumination that seeks out dark corners and ravages the room, paralleling the endeavours of a 17th Century physicist trying to prove a scientific truth, demystifying legend.
‘The idea that scholars of the Middle Ages believed the Earth was flat is, in fact, a myth created
in modern times.’
Page 2 from Measuring the Universe by Kitty Ferguson 1999.
The change of seasons blow fragments of memory and longing that meet at Fate’s crossroads, enveloping personal experiences absorbed over the passage of time, ranged in motifs of graphic plunder. Here the bark is flesh while the foliage is both the entrapment and theft of the heart, as Paul Robinson observes the blending of nature and human bondage. For this exhibition, Robinson places a confidante of lost childhood in an apocalyptic nuclear Spring, from whence this character explores the raw materials of this artist’s palette – trees. As the bear appears to grow in stature
he seems to gain confidence, as his solo adventures are documented through photography. This benign ‘Cartoon Head’ references the prevalence amongst audiences of the Oklahoma band Flaming Lips, who are partial to dressing up as animals - and nostalgia for the days before digital, where the cast of children’s TV programmes would adopt such costumes. Comfort and joy in a second skin especially recalls Fleagle, Bingo, Drooper and Snork, those bumbling, fumbling fuzzy friends The Banana Splits. Tra la la…
‘The vanishing middle; the collapse of entitlement; the rise and dominance of irony; extreme
social upheaval brought about by endless new machines…and the sense that even a place in
time as recent as last week can now feel like it happened a decade ago.’
Page 2 from Polaroids From The Dead by Douglas Coupland 1996.
July 2010 Random quotes and original text by Garry Hunter, independent visual artist and curator.
Exhibition supported by Brompton Design District