Leamington Spa

The re-location of Gallery 150, the showcase of LSA artists, to Livery Street, where the Regent Court shopping area is positioned, next to the Town Hall, in Royal Leamington Spa has resulted in a blaze of activity. There is Andrew Christopher’s major exhibition supported by twelve other artists, all who are showing their work.

Andrew’s exhibition reveals him, yet again, seeking to exhaust a theme in order to discover himself as an artist. He seems to have refuted the axiom that ‘When domesticity enters the front door, art leaves by the back’ as in Maugham’s, ‘The Moon and Sixpence’, by depicting and embracing his family, wife, and recent child. He has explored his own childhood too, without the pain, for many of the images, with candy floss pink; celebrate birthdays, parties, and picnics. The figures of the children seem wooden or is the simplicity of representation in keeping with innocence? The soft focus effect seems appropriate for the nostalgia intended, achieved as it is by the saturation of paint on unprepared canvas, muting the immediacy and projecting the viewer back in time. There are subtle variations in style within this historical account, for the four paintings of himself, his wife and child have a lyricism, painted as they are in pastel colours. There is also a powerful piece ‘The Kids at Bernard and Jacie’s, (1984)’, date of photograph, where Andrew demonstrates his skill of foreshortening of three children lying stretched out, on cushions, absorbed, perhaps by television. This alone gives confidence as to his painterly and compositional skills. The paintings of an adult and a child stretched out in a park have a greater reality, with the trees, either intended or otherwise containing anthropomorphic allusions, adding an additional dimension, such as menace or protection. Andrew dives into a theme and out comes a whole litany of possibility as he seeks to find a vision which will absorb him. Once found, there will be no turning back, as he will be consumed by its overriding demands, as seen recently in the Gauguin show at Tate Modern. An honest if not a commercially viable exhibition, for who wants images of other peoples’ kids, unless you are a Millais or a Picasso? Or a family member or friend!

Of the other artists who are showing their work in Gallery 150, one has OKSE who paints his work in the gallery, and clearly fascinates the public. Many are intrigued and compulsively come in to see more. He has painted Lennon from one of Bill Zygmant’s photographs and it is a ‘tour de force’. His self portrait is strong and against a darkish reddish background, dramatic. He uses grisaille, which is a painting entirely in monochrome, in a series of greys, although he does slightly deviate from this as indicated above. It is good, well observed painting but his imaginative images of interlocking tubes and spheres are equally impressive.

Then there are Bill Zygmant’s iconic photographs, which catch the spirit of the Swinging Sixties, with some of the chief protagonists, including a charming image of George Harrison sipping tea, meekly and primly. Both Bill and the Beatles were young, and they liked each other sufficiently, for him to catch them in relaxed mode. The cover image of the current issue of ‘Artspace’ is of Lennon embracing Yoko Ono with tenderness. Bill’s photographs have the authenticity of intimacy. Looking at these well executed and unpretentious photographs, a whole era is evoked, and the air is full of many thoughts, especially for those who lived through that era. How many memories are brought into play, with the brightly coloured painting of the Beatles Apple Boutique shop on the corner of Baker Street, London, designed by Barry Finch and painted by three Dutch artists, known as ‘The Fools’. In the days of innocence, what more could you ask for, as the words and music, cascade down the decades, ‘Those were the days, my friend we thought they’d never end’, as do so many more, which are now immediately available, and so are these consummate photographs.

Damien Isaak has a range of imagery shown in seven pictures which are refreshing and a little intimidating. On the one hand you have abstract pictures with red grounds interlocking black verticals in a meaningful ways. With titles such as, ‘Nightmares’ and ‘Predators’, the mood is established, so viewers have ample scope to project their own narratives. Then there are pictures of street scenes, storms, winter parks, sweltering heat with marks denoting people of sorts, dissolving, altering the mind set, ever restless to be countered by a large sculptural form of either one figure embracing another or a woman with huge breasts, which one is looking up at, like some festive icon. This is a restless, ever searching mind attempting to find visual equivalences for hardly formulated thoughts, brilliantly lit up by intellectual impulses. There is no stopping this ever formulating pictorial energy.

Sueli Moreton was born in Brazil and although resident in the UK, for the last seven years, these three paintings are haunted by the power of the past. Figures play on the beach against a blue sky, touched with coconut trees, and there is a lovely simplicity and directness. The figure on a boat drenched in the light of a setting sun, with manifold reds vying with yellows, captures the exotic nature of the experience. This is pleasure painting par excellence and one warms towards it.

Paul Guff had an idyllic childhood, in a small village, enraptured by the countryside. Armed with a camera to remind himself of his experiences, and a longing to depict, through paint, he has presented us with three ravishing images. In one a curving path, edged with shrubbery and by trees, which virtually kiss each other across the divide, contrasting the green against a brilliant blue sky he has excelled himself. Yet, from talking to visitors the painting which seemed to be the most popular was the sunlit glade, hosting a carpet of bluebells, creating a magical effect. The mark making has verve and although the detail lacks Constable’s attention to detail, it is well within the contemporary mode of actuality, bringing life and nature to bear on our sensibilities. To prove he is not encased by vegetation he has painted a spatial, open ended seascape where the colour temperature of clouds, sea and sand dwarf tiny human figures, and give us a glimpse into space and a shiver.

Gerry Smith is not only the resourceful and energetic Chairman of LSA but a painter in his own right, aided and abetted by use of the camera. His two works are very different revealing on the one hand his fascination for Monet’s garden, with its water lilies, capturing the colour variations, and on the other hand his Manhattan skyscrapers, turned into lyrical abstracts. He manages to translate the seeming inhumanity of the soaring landscape of glass buildings of the city, through deft artistry into poetic images of humanity, enclosed in translucent glass, bewitched by impossible dreams.

Michael Lightbane is showing photographs where contrasting tonality is king. He creates mystery through night scenes so the familiar becomes unreal. He enquires as to what is happening when we are surrounded by darkness punctured by pools of light. How dark can an image get before it satisfies him. Is he revisiting Malevich and Ad Reinhardt and where lies his conceptual centrality? From night to day capturing an avenue of gnarled trees, majestic in their age and positioning, where sculptural forms like carved icons, greet us as we enter their protection. Yes, intriguing and viable images that capture the eye, and make us question what we see.

Dominica Vaughan’s series, ‘Beyond the Skin’, is a series of seven paintings which immediately demand attention, for they are so unusual. The largest presents two alluring female figures, whose clothing seems to be slipping off them, in an ambiguous manner. It is not overtly sensuous but somewhat disturbing, as if we are seeing a transformation happening before our eyes. The rusty red brown colour combinations enhance the spectacle as if the warmth of location is melting the feather like garments to reveal the flesh beneath. There is an enigma here for the figures present themselves, self-absorbed, tantalising beyond touch, alive, taut, thin framed with hair like forests. The gyrations are not rapid in intent and the sideways turn of the heads give recall to the slow still murmur of humanity. Unusual in character these paintings have a presence, which make you ponder, as you search for meaning.

Libby January has turned back to colour in these three 2010 crayon drawings, which confound our normal expectations for this medium. She has given bulk not only to the creamy ground but to free flowing mark making of the flowers and their containers. She revels in reds, blues and yellows and her sensibility is such that accidents become virtues. It has the directness of children’s art combined with the aesthetic sophistication of an artist willing the image to be replete and satisfy our need for joie de vivre. She is reminding us all what can be done with crayon, and takes us from earthiness to lyricism.

Samantha Partridge is showing four images revolving around Alice in Wonderland, which are full of wit and ingenuity. They are concerned with the playing cards and provide variations on a theme such as the Cheshire cat. What, though, is more eye catching is a larger picture of Alice, which has macabre elements. She is posed standing in a ballet tutu, with pink being the dominant colour, which is disarming, considering she is wearing a mask and is surrounded by flying bullets with butterfly wings attached. The dislocation of our expectations is such, one could argue, to be expected, in the tipsy turvy world of Alice, for she is in Wonderland, after all, even if this means, bindings on her left wrist, and other sinister features! It does seem a new perspective and one with many possibilities.

James Callaghan has some very powerful photographs on show. Two of a black thoroughbred horse which has recently been groomed and is pulsating with life. The sheen and sinewy quality of the skin and muscles is caught by the artist in such a way that we understand why those who love horses do so. Other works are portraits of different sorts of people, so there is a woman who seems quite demonic and quite frightening, her face contorted as she reveals her teeth and hair asunder, her eyes lit in reaction to the mood by which she is possessed. Is she surprised or frightened? Various responses were forthcoming from spectators but all agreed this was a memorable image of intensity of some kind. Then there was a poetic image of a young man, whose eyes and face seem to engender, approval from female viewers. He epitomised the strong, dark, handsome, male of romantic legend. All the remaining images had very different messages but what made them a whole were the quality of observation and the sincerity of the presentation. 

By some extraordinary feat of forgetfulness, or even purposeful Stalinist censorship, John Yeadon’s challenging exhibition of food in all its varieties, called ‘Fat’, with additional minuscule images of fat bodies, illustrating obesity, has been obliterated from our consciousness. It is as if nothing had happened, at least from the point of reportage in ‘Artspace’. Had not the press and media swept down on the luckless artist in their multitudes to examine the hideous issue of censorship at his exhibition at the Old Library, Avenue Road, Leamington Spa, a few months previously. Clearly promises had been made but not kept. What had led to this fanfare was the administration of the Community Venture Association, screaming in the middle of the night ‘Outrage’, and nothing but nothing could, it seems, stifle the screaming. The artist, with huge generosity, eased the pain of this nightmare by removing the offending images. It was a desperate act of diplomacy and bore bitterly into his heart, as well as causing outrage in the artistic community of LSA. Their action was symbolic of the guerrilla tactics of usurping the presence of LSA, who had given cultural status to a social endeavour, as if they were an occupying army. There was only one form of protest open to LSA and that was to escape, which it did in the middle of the night, or at least one Friday evening! Without the LSA the application to obtain money by the Community Venture Group failed. LSA on the other hand became elated, buoyant, with a new surge of energy as it moved its energy to the central shopping precinct of Royal Leamington Spa. In doing so it forgot the artist who behaved with such tolerance, as the review promised was not forthcoming, for a number of reasons.

It is now time to redeem the neglect and focus our attention on an exhibition which should have proclaimed. It was a spectacle of food in all its variety, the images contrasting, some showed well-prepared dishes and the others food which constituted enemies to the human digestive system, complete with written addenda, which enabled us to compare and contrast. What I found fascinating were the dishes, which the inmates of Death Row ordered as their last meals before execution. What must be highlighted was the composition of the ingredients of the dishes, with high definition photographs of their arrangement. Equally there were a few examples of hand painted surfaces of food showing the amazing dexterity which John Yeadon has possessed all his life, evident in his earliest work at the Royal College of Art, where he was a student. John has suffered for his art, but as his heart is as big as his imagination and his skills beyond doubt, LSA, as representing the consciousness of artists here and the world over, ask him to forgive our error of silence. We know artists stand for humanity against oppression, and the Chinese artist Wei Wei, whose exhibition at Tate Modern, is currently incarcerated in prison, is such a beacon of light against darkness, whom with John we salute, for their courage in holding to their principles.

Has Art moved finally into its final frontier, with the award of the Turner prize to Susan Philipsz (45), an artist who shows no work, which could be called tangible or an artefact of whatever description including human bodies, although she trained as a sculptor? The room I entered consisted of three speakers, from which came her voice singing a 16th century Scottish lament. She has an untrained voice which is essential to the effect. The jury liked her work ‘as it provokes both intellectual and instinctive responses about the relationship between sound and sight’. What surprised me in addition to her winning the award of £25,000.00 was that she was the overwhelming favourite with the bookmakers. Other artists who had been selected were: Dexter Dalwood, a figurative painter; Angela de la Cruz, whose canvases are turned into sculpture; and the Otolith Group, a collective of film-makers from London. It seems we have reached a point of no return when one of the most cherished prizes in the visual arts is given to a non-visual phenomenon. Is this the end of road, for when the coal runs out, the pit is closed? Or is a breakthrough into another dimension as ethereal as the voice itself. Materialised matter is supposed to form in the mind of the spectator. Nothing can come of nothing or can it? Is this the new beginning, when we can throw away everything, and become entirely emancipated, a living pulsating ‘Imagination’.

Dave Phillips