Last night was another one filled with openings including one by Tracey Emin. It’s strange to consider her as someone that has caused so much controversy and whilst viewing works which are in no way similar to the notorious ‘My Bed’ or ‘Everyone I Have Ever Slept With 1963-1995’. For us, it feels like a step backwards; there’s far less to engage with in her bronzes and paintings. Her previous works debunk the artist as this untouchable, perfect being and tell a very human story. There’s obviously the fact that the gallery showing the works are in the business of making money, and therefore works that look better on a mantelpiece, between aunt Bertha’s urn and a vase of Peruvian Lilies, are far more likely to make an appearance. This is a only a shame because of the potential she’s shown, if this was all she’d ever produced then we wouldn’t think twice about the mediocre paintings but as it stands, it’s just disappointing. Park Chan-kyong was showing a variety of works, all addressing the notion of ‘traditions’, due to them being repressing during the hyper-modernisation of South Korea. There was a photo sound installation titled ‘Three Cemeteries’ and it was composed of photographs accompanied by sounds reflecting or illustrating the places. The three sites were all burial grounds reserved for people ‘neglected by history’. Even though these are sites with huge historical importance, the sounds appear to be nothing more than field recordings, birds, the whistling of the wind etc. If anything this is replicating the expressionless nature of the sites; no body cared then, and nobody cares now.
The next exhibition was by a guy called Desire Obtain Cherish. We’re unsure whether this is his real name, if it is, hard luck, if it’s not, it’s a fairly cheap promotional tool. This continues in the names of one of his paintings; if the press release is anything to go by, ‘The Feast Of 1,000 Likes’ has nothing to do with Facebook or the Internet at large. He’s merely exploiting the fact that these things exist in order make himself sound more thorough in his research. Juan Usle was showing a selection of big, abstract paintings that supposedly ‘evocative of the colours, light and space of his Northern Spanish homeland and the density, energy and unpredictability of New York City.’ Below is an image of one of the works on show and we don’t think we’re alone in thinking that his statement is entirely subjective and personal. This tends to be the case fairly regularly but we feel that acting in this (selfish) manner will only alienate ones audience, but he’s the one with a solo show in Chelsea so maybe we should be taking a leaf out of his book!
However, it wasn’t all so disappointing, especially since we were inundated with drinks on this occasion. Duane Michals has an exhibition, which featured his portraits. They were simply framed prints and included these handwritten notes, a lot of which were pretty funny! Dustin Hoffman ‘before he graduated’, James Coburn ‘was a bullshitter. He talks too much, too much, too much’. However, it is not all light. There is a sense of sadness in the image of Maya Angelou behind Venetian blinds ‘The angel Angelou singing in her white cage’ and a sense of loss in images such as ‘Mother after Father Died’ and ‘Jack Died of AIDS’ and the sequence ‘Robin Williams and friend.’ A diverse range of ideas and feelings felt by both the viewer and the maker alike.
