What a load of shit
Review of Craig Fishers work in the ‘Closely Held Secrets’ exhibition at the Bonnington gallery.
“What a load of shit” said an anonymous student.
“What do you mean shit? I think it’s quite good“, replied another anonymous student.
“No!” the first student says whilst laughing, “That’s what the piece is called.”
‘What a Load of Shit’ is a textiles piece that stretches over an area roughly 7x4 meters. The work has a bright yet limited colour pallet of strong pinks, darker greens, browns, greys and various blacks. It resembles some kind of catastrophe or breakdown; pink planks of wood sit in a pile with random shapes and what I assume to be bird shit splatters assorted randomly in, on and around the work. It juxtaposes well with the surrounding work from other artists, the curator of the show was obviously very particular with the placement of this piece as well as it’s careful lighting.
Invigilating the closely held secrets exhibition gave me the unique opportunity to sit in the presence of this work for over seven hours. Presence in this case would be the correct word to use, the work has a real aura about it. In fact being somewhat of a people watcher I’ve observed that the exhibition goers mimic the plug hole effect, once the viewer steps into the gallery they work their way around the exhibition until they reach ‘What a Load of Shit’ in the middle. The piece itself is quite playful, the shapes are generally always rounded off with no hard lines or edges. It’s bright colours and bold shapes are like those you might find in a playroom or a day-care centre. I would suggest that ‘What a Load of Shit’ is no different, the work is big, bright and occupies a significant amount of floor space, even it’s appearance looks as if it’s been subjected to a rough playtime session at a pre school. It also commands a significant amount of respect within the gallery; as I said previously people seem to be walking around the whole exhibition almost as if they’re building up to the pink mass. It’s like people are being ’good gallery goers’ taking in every bit of art work until they finally arrive at the work they want to bend down touch. It may be that the strict boundaries regarding the touching of artwork is the only thing stopping young and old alike picking up the work and having a play. I can’t emphasise enough the overwhelming want I have to touch the work, it’s almost as if it’s inviting me to do so. This isn’t helped by the nature of the presentation, because of it’s chaotic roots there is no boundary stopping you from getting really close to the work. Parts stick out more than others suggesting it’s okay to come as close as you want. The kid in a candy shop really springs to mind here. Due to it’s scale and colour there is no avoiding the work, so with people obviously clocking it’s existence why is it being left until the end? Perhaps like a roast dinner you save the best until last? I can only deduce that ’What a Load of Shit’ is comparable to a selection of particularly good roast potatoes.
Craig Fishers piece is the most visually commanding in the whole exhibition. However this is no easy feat, there is no single piece of work which doesn’t contribute something to the exhibition as a whole, I tip my hat once more to the curator. Craig’s work is just really interesting to look at, regardless of it’s conceptual prowess it is just something really nice to be in the presence of. It reverts me back to a childlike state in all honesty, like ice cream the bigger and more colourful the better it is. Craig’s work is the same for me, it’s big it’s bold and it’s completely beautiful. Its also presented well, the advantage of being a three dimensional piece means that you can have several different encounters with the work, each time seeing something you previously hadn’t. It’s the skill of the artist that makes this interesting, this work is a paradox in that it‘s a chaotic shambles that‘s been so precisely assembled. The artist has been very particular in the organisation of the piece, it’s layout and it’s remarkably obvious to me that it’s taken a significant amount of time to put together.
There is a wonderful contrast in Craig Fishers work, he likes to make horrible looking things look beautiful. I am completely drawn in by the conceptual side and I think in particular this work is fascinating. Previous examples of Craig’s practise involve making detailed embroidery of piles of sick, soft knuckle dusters, tables of knives and hooks as well as blood splattered on the wall. Quite a grotesque set of scenes that might be better suited to a private and confidential police file rather than admired and observed in art galleries. But this is what adds such a charming quality to the practise, everyone knows that knuckle dusters and knives are associated to crime scenes and aren’t particularly beautiful to look at however Craig transforms them, giving them a new context and forcing the viewer to interpret them in a different way. There is also a humorous side to the work, soft knuckle dusters are completely redundant, this element of the work is quite charming and you could also argue that there is a social commentary emerging. Perhaps Craig’s perceived objective to beautify the scarier and slightly taboo elements of our society is a coping mechanism or even a means to comprehend it? Rather than making work for the sake of being beautiful, he re-constructs quite chaotic scenes, ‘What a Load of Shit’ as a title already is quite suggestive, but in my opinion, it couldn’t be further from the truth.
By Joseph Cerski
Sunday 21 November 2010
Sunday 14 November 2010
The Clearing by John Newling
John Newling, ‘The Clearing.’
‘I really want to put some mud in that hole’ was my first thought as I was witnessing John carefully pat down soil onto a freshly planted beech tree.
I knew very little of the encounter I was about to have sitting on the bus on the way to the suburbia which was hosting John Newlings latest endeavour, in hindsight not knowing the experience I was about to have made the actual encounter all the more charming. When the bus pulled up to a small recreation ground I walked over to a congregation of people on the far side of the field. A mix of people had appeared to of turned up including the mayor, some degree level students and some aspiring foundation students; the crowd watched on as John, with some local assistance, began to plant nine beech trees in a perfect circle. Witnessing the event didn’t seem to be enough for some people, this community involving piece of work drew people in and non verbally encouraged involvement from young and old alike. I myself, trying to remain subjective for the sake of the review couldn’t help but to grab a fist full of dirt and scatter it at the base of a tree. I got involved and I was pleasantly satisfied!
The work itself came across to me as some-what of a performance as well as a permanent instillation. These tree’s had been nurtured in a hydroponics system at BioCity laboratories in Snenton, growing in soil that is the people of the area. In the soil is finely shredded documents, images and resources all from the local community, the sentiment alone is heart warming although further probing allowed me to conclude that John Newling had presented the community with a gift. These tree’s contained the people that surrounded them, like a community come rain or shine they’re there. The performance element, for me at least, will never end; from the original thought to the distant future these tree’s will continue to represent a linked community. The local man who grew the trees, the community who planted the trees and the dog walkers, amateur footballers and many more members of the public will continue to enjoy the instillation.
The realisation of the significance of the work summarised the entire experience for me. As previously stated I was blissfully unaware of the specific context of John Newlings work, so witnessing the planting and formation of the physical side was a refreshing and down to earth experience, free from context I just enjoyed the work at face value. Speculating on the possibilities the question, ‘where does the work start and end?’ came to light. Although work started in a laboratory and is now planted in a recreational field in a Nottingham suburb has the work actually finished? What specific part of the experience as a whole is the ‘work’? Just the act of raising these questions suggest that ‘The Clearing’ is part of a more intricate social network. So unlike site specific sculptural instillations this all natural work, gifted to the people of the area, really is designed to become a part of the community as time goes on. In one of 81 books printed (to be a continuation of the work) John expresses his desire for the space to be used as an area where leading experts in their fields can talk and express themselves in the space. This attitude to his work further promotes the works life span and links to the community.
After a brief break for food John led the group on a walk which was obviously very personal to him. He had his partner there and they jokily described previous sighs seen during their walks, this only added to the personal quality the work, even the theory behind the work reverberated thoroughly. What really strikes me is that John makes work which is aesthetically beautiful in a variety of ways, the tree’s themselves as well as the way they’re presented looks poetic. The time, his unquestionable attentiveness to the tree’s, the material grown into and entwined into the soul of the trees makes for an involved experience for the viewer and no doubt it’s creator. The sentiment and dream John has for the work and it’s future is a delicate one, John is clearly an advocate of social involvement as is he a nature enthusiast. In a conversation I was lucky enough to have with John he pointed out to me how he was keen the work is viewed as a gift to the community. He came across selfless, his ambition to create work that doesn’t need to be maintained, thus costing the community nothing, demonstrates his passion for social art over a means to make money.
Leaving the work and returning home to write about it, going through notes and trying to remember exactly what was said is all second best to the impact I feel John Newling has had on my outlook to public art and my own practise. This informative and involving work has inspired me to review my outlook on how fine art stands within a community and particularly who art work is made for. That’s perhaps the most interesting feature, Johns work begins to question who art work is made for. Should making artwork be reviewed as more of a public service? I really recommend going to see this work, it’s informative, quaint and really inspiring.
‘I’m so glad I got to put some mud on the tree! Can you believe I’ve collaborated with John Newling?’
‘I really want to put some mud in that hole’ was my first thought as I was witnessing John carefully pat down soil onto a freshly planted beech tree.
I knew very little of the encounter I was about to have sitting on the bus on the way to the suburbia which was hosting John Newlings latest endeavour, in hindsight not knowing the experience I was about to have made the actual encounter all the more charming. When the bus pulled up to a small recreation ground I walked over to a congregation of people on the far side of the field. A mix of people had appeared to of turned up including the mayor, some degree level students and some aspiring foundation students; the crowd watched on as John, with some local assistance, began to plant nine beech trees in a perfect circle. Witnessing the event didn’t seem to be enough for some people, this community involving piece of work drew people in and non verbally encouraged involvement from young and old alike. I myself, trying to remain subjective for the sake of the review couldn’t help but to grab a fist full of dirt and scatter it at the base of a tree. I got involved and I was pleasantly satisfied!
The work itself came across to me as some-what of a performance as well as a permanent instillation. These tree’s had been nurtured in a hydroponics system at BioCity laboratories in Snenton, growing in soil that is the people of the area. In the soil is finely shredded documents, images and resources all from the local community, the sentiment alone is heart warming although further probing allowed me to conclude that John Newling had presented the community with a gift. These tree’s contained the people that surrounded them, like a community come rain or shine they’re there. The performance element, for me at least, will never end; from the original thought to the distant future these tree’s will continue to represent a linked community. The local man who grew the trees, the community who planted the trees and the dog walkers, amateur footballers and many more members of the public will continue to enjoy the instillation.
The realisation of the significance of the work summarised the entire experience for me. As previously stated I was blissfully unaware of the specific context of John Newlings work, so witnessing the planting and formation of the physical side was a refreshing and down to earth experience, free from context I just enjoyed the work at face value. Speculating on the possibilities the question, ‘where does the work start and end?’ came to light. Although work started in a laboratory and is now planted in a recreational field in a Nottingham suburb has the work actually finished? What specific part of the experience as a whole is the ‘work’? Just the act of raising these questions suggest that ‘The Clearing’ is part of a more intricate social network. So unlike site specific sculptural instillations this all natural work, gifted to the people of the area, really is designed to become a part of the community as time goes on. In one of 81 books printed (to be a continuation of the work) John expresses his desire for the space to be used as an area where leading experts in their fields can talk and express themselves in the space. This attitude to his work further promotes the works life span and links to the community.
After a brief break for food John led the group on a walk which was obviously very personal to him. He had his partner there and they jokily described previous sighs seen during their walks, this only added to the personal quality the work, even the theory behind the work reverberated thoroughly. What really strikes me is that John makes work which is aesthetically beautiful in a variety of ways, the tree’s themselves as well as the way they’re presented looks poetic. The time, his unquestionable attentiveness to the tree’s, the material grown into and entwined into the soul of the trees makes for an involved experience for the viewer and no doubt it’s creator. The sentiment and dream John has for the work and it’s future is a delicate one, John is clearly an advocate of social involvement as is he a nature enthusiast. In a conversation I was lucky enough to have with John he pointed out to me how he was keen the work is viewed as a gift to the community. He came across selfless, his ambition to create work that doesn’t need to be maintained, thus costing the community nothing, demonstrates his passion for social art over a means to make money.
Leaving the work and returning home to write about it, going through notes and trying to remember exactly what was said is all second best to the impact I feel John Newling has had on my outlook to public art and my own practise. This informative and involving work has inspired me to review my outlook on how fine art stands within a community and particularly who art work is made for. That’s perhaps the most interesting feature, Johns work begins to question who art work is made for. Should making artwork be reviewed as more of a public service? I really recommend going to see this work, it’s informative, quaint and really inspiring.
‘I’m so glad I got to put some mud on the tree! Can you believe I’ve collaborated with John Newling?’
Sunday 31 October 2010
Sophie Calle: Talking to strangers
Sophie Calle: Talking to strangers.
Name: Joseph Cerski
N0283060, Fine art.
Sophie Calle: Talking to Strangers
Upon walking into the Whitechapel gallery space in London the first thing I noticed was the bombardment my peripheral vision was receiving. I felt confused.
It would seem the curator was given a difficult task. Regardless of availability of space I still felt overwhelmed on the exhibit floor; Calle’s vast display of images, scripts and video was accented with my own sense of exposure. I didn’t feel at home right away, the piece itself battled for my attention and I didn’t feel a ’flow’ to the exhibition. Interestingly enough, walking around the exhibition I knew I was missing things, I knew I was skipping by things I should perhaps not have but I was being appeased by my sense of rationality. My senses were being tugged at, sound, vision and movement fought me as I tried hard to comprehend the provocative work. My initial thoughts told me to shut down and try to administer a new interpretation.
The exhibition consists of several film/video, sound and visual components which express various representations and interpretations of a break up letter Sophie Calle received from a former lover. The use of ‘varied’ media was one of the most obvious and outstanding factors concerning this exhibition; one of the most notable, for me, was a short film of a parrot ‘reacting’ to the bad news. The parrot was ballistic, getting gradually more and more angry as the clip went on. The parrot recited lines from the letter, chewed the paper the letter was written on and ruffled it’s feathers hysterically as if the parrot was the one being ‘dumped’. This video installation was tucked away in a corner suggesting that this wasn’t the focus of the exhibition, but in truth the honesty and almost human reactions the parrot had, was the piece that started to turn the initially confusing, overpowering exhibition into something I started to understand. That parrot spoke to me, it’s volatile reactions where the most earthed, it was honest and it was human, it started to put the other videos and text into context for me.
Given time to readjust and take in my surroundings I became the proverbial sponge, I took in the masses of textual commentary, studied and admired the emotional videos as well as appreciating the clever use of more exciting, unknown media such as taro cards. The exhibition became exciting, the bombardment ceased and a revelation sparked. The exhibition looks into human behaviour, although specifically relevant to Calle, the work speaks loudly about our actions and interpretations we make. Further artistic digestion led me to believe the curator and Calle had deliberately loaded the wall space to further comment on our capacity to handle bad news. The sheer number of different responses and interpretations, the barrage of media and the overloaded walls could be a commentary on her own confusion and dissolution at the letter she received. The interpretations act as a methodology of expressing that confusion; visual language cleverly being used to accentuate Calles own sense of confusion.
The exhibitions defining feature was how the works complemented one another. Specifically a video wall situated out of view upon entering the gallery. Walking either side into the main space and turning back on yourself you can see a large 34 screened video wall, one of which being a larger screen with sound. On each one of these screens played video footage of various different film ‘clips’ of different people reacting to Sophie Calle’s break up letter. This aspect of the exhibit was perhaps one of the most visually interesting, although the only one playing noise was the larger screen; the others contributed to the overall experience. My eyes flickered in anticipation between the screens, one soul media showing dancing, shouting, screaming, crying and more. This video wall was honest and passionate, for me it made subtle commentaries of society and further explained Calle’s reoccurring theme of human behaviour and our ability to handle bad news. The videos show a concentrated view into a darker, less glorified yet ever present part of our existence in society, break-ups and the ending of relationships and partnerships. Because of this intriguing aspect of our society I’m naturally drawn into this work, the darker underbelly of human existence is displayed so honestly for all to see in this revealing, bare all exhibition. Furthermore, despite the presence of various representational media and the intended feeling of initial confusion this piece really does work as a collective. I believe the piece aims not to make sense of confusion, but to illustrate that there can be order to confusion. Order, in this case, is brought to light through the successful unification of media to project a point or a feeling. Sophie Calle, we can only assume, was devastated. Receiving such a disjointed, confusing and rambled brake up letter probably put her on her head, but the process of identifying the confusion and trying to create clarity through professional interpretations, regardless of specific profession, is a step in the direction of deciphering the meaning behind it. These interpretations are invaluable, women from all walks of life, some who’s profession is directly linked to human behaviour and some experienced in the field have all offered their opinions and reactions as if they themselves were experiencing this great sense of loss. One of my other favourite aspects of the exhibition was a female rifle expert, through the simple action of shooting holes through the letter, she silently expressed her animosity towards the letter and perhaps even men in general. Honesty, good old fashioned human honesty is the most notable emotion amongst the ones I experienced at this exhibition. Some of the women seemed bitter, perhaps this has happened to some of them before; some seemed sarcastic, some seemed violent but these reactions were all human. Life can be a show sometimes, real salt of the earth human reactions are covered up, people don’t often open up and really express how they feel in a confining society. This exhibition was brilliant, I believe Calle was suggesting that it’s okay to feel confused and hurt, but it’s more important to show these feelings and express
Name: Joseph Cerski
N0283060, Fine art.
Sophie Calle: Talking to Strangers
Upon walking into the Whitechapel gallery space in London the first thing I noticed was the bombardment my peripheral vision was receiving. I felt confused.
It would seem the curator was given a difficult task. Regardless of availability of space I still felt overwhelmed on the exhibit floor; Calle’s vast display of images, scripts and video was accented with my own sense of exposure. I didn’t feel at home right away, the piece itself battled for my attention and I didn’t feel a ’flow’ to the exhibition. Interestingly enough, walking around the exhibition I knew I was missing things, I knew I was skipping by things I should perhaps not have but I was being appeased by my sense of rationality. My senses were being tugged at, sound, vision and movement fought me as I tried hard to comprehend the provocative work. My initial thoughts told me to shut down and try to administer a new interpretation.
The exhibition consists of several film/video, sound and visual components which express various representations and interpretations of a break up letter Sophie Calle received from a former lover. The use of ‘varied’ media was one of the most obvious and outstanding factors concerning this exhibition; one of the most notable, for me, was a short film of a parrot ‘reacting’ to the bad news. The parrot was ballistic, getting gradually more and more angry as the clip went on. The parrot recited lines from the letter, chewed the paper the letter was written on and ruffled it’s feathers hysterically as if the parrot was the one being ‘dumped’. This video installation was tucked away in a corner suggesting that this wasn’t the focus of the exhibition, but in truth the honesty and almost human reactions the parrot had, was the piece that started to turn the initially confusing, overpowering exhibition into something I started to understand. That parrot spoke to me, it’s volatile reactions where the most earthed, it was honest and it was human, it started to put the other videos and text into context for me.
Given time to readjust and take in my surroundings I became the proverbial sponge, I took in the masses of textual commentary, studied and admired the emotional videos as well as appreciating the clever use of more exciting, unknown media such as taro cards. The exhibition became exciting, the bombardment ceased and a revelation sparked. The exhibition looks into human behaviour, although specifically relevant to Calle, the work speaks loudly about our actions and interpretations we make. Further artistic digestion led me to believe the curator and Calle had deliberately loaded the wall space to further comment on our capacity to handle bad news. The sheer number of different responses and interpretations, the barrage of media and the overloaded walls could be a commentary on her own confusion and dissolution at the letter she received. The interpretations act as a methodology of expressing that confusion; visual language cleverly being used to accentuate Calles own sense of confusion.
The exhibitions defining feature was how the works complemented one another. Specifically a video wall situated out of view upon entering the gallery. Walking either side into the main space and turning back on yourself you can see a large 34 screened video wall, one of which being a larger screen with sound. On each one of these screens played video footage of various different film ‘clips’ of different people reacting to Sophie Calle’s break up letter. This aspect of the exhibit was perhaps one of the most visually interesting, although the only one playing noise was the larger screen; the others contributed to the overall experience. My eyes flickered in anticipation between the screens, one soul media showing dancing, shouting, screaming, crying and more. This video wall was honest and passionate, for me it made subtle commentaries of society and further explained Calle’s reoccurring theme of human behaviour and our ability to handle bad news. The videos show a concentrated view into a darker, less glorified yet ever present part of our existence in society, break-ups and the ending of relationships and partnerships. Because of this intriguing aspect of our society I’m naturally drawn into this work, the darker underbelly of human existence is displayed so honestly for all to see in this revealing, bare all exhibition. Furthermore, despite the presence of various representational media and the intended feeling of initial confusion this piece really does work as a collective. I believe the piece aims not to make sense of confusion, but to illustrate that there can be order to confusion. Order, in this case, is brought to light through the successful unification of media to project a point or a feeling. Sophie Calle, we can only assume, was devastated. Receiving such a disjointed, confusing and rambled brake up letter probably put her on her head, but the process of identifying the confusion and trying to create clarity through professional interpretations, regardless of specific profession, is a step in the direction of deciphering the meaning behind it. These interpretations are invaluable, women from all walks of life, some who’s profession is directly linked to human behaviour and some experienced in the field have all offered their opinions and reactions as if they themselves were experiencing this great sense of loss. One of my other favourite aspects of the exhibition was a female rifle expert, through the simple action of shooting holes through the letter, she silently expressed her animosity towards the letter and perhaps even men in general. Honesty, good old fashioned human honesty is the most notable emotion amongst the ones I experienced at this exhibition. Some of the women seemed bitter, perhaps this has happened to some of them before; some seemed sarcastic, some seemed violent but these reactions were all human. Life can be a show sometimes, real salt of the earth human reactions are covered up, people don’t often open up and really express how they feel in a confining society. This exhibition was brilliant, I believe Calle was suggesting that it’s okay to feel confused and hurt, but it’s more important to show these feelings and express
Terra Incognita
Joseph Cerski
Critical Review: ‘Terra Incognita’
Specifically Kashif Nadim Chaudry’s work Titled ‘Harem’
Location: Surface Gallery, Nottingham.
Terra Incognita
physical qualities, the medium(s) used, the size of the work, its location etc. Are you going to review a selection from or part of the show? Why?
Newly installed exhibition ‘Terra Incognita’ occupies the project space at the top of the surface gallery. I intend to cover certain aspects of this exhibition in the review although I will primarily be focusing on work titled ’Harem’ by British artist Kashif Nadim Chaudry. Waiting at the door for the attendant to buzz us in already creates quite a personal and intimate feeling upon entering the gallery; then being escorted up two flights of stairs to the project space itself established a sense of importance for the viewer. Despite knowing full well this behaviour is mandatory and every one is treated the same the initial impact on the viewer is reminiscent throughout the exhibition. The tender, intimate theme was present during the course of my experience in the Surface gallery; immediately I was struck by arguably the most visually demanding piece of work in the room. ’Harem’ by Kashif Nadim Chaudry in it’s most basic form is presented as a colour wheel; what appears to be hundreds of different pieces of cloth and fabric laid out specifically in order of colour. This however was no ordinary colour wheel, as if they’re rising out of the floor draped in the fabric 6 figures emerge. Laid equal distance from one another with their heads in the centre of the wheel, feet around the outer edge the figures lay motionless. In the artist statement I collected at the exhibition Kashif states ’I have a great love for cloth and have collected over the years much fabric. The time was right I felt to purge myself of the vast repository but I needed something equally desirable to use as my canvas. And what better than six naked men, the perfect ingredients for a Harem!’# Although contradictory to my original thought that these figures may in fact resemble corpses# (due to being covered head to toe in material, like when bodies are covered after death out of respect) each one had an erection. So immediately the work swings into a very playful environment, accentuated by the colours and shapes the bodies make on the materials the whole piece resembles an alien like terrain. Every angle you observe the work the folds and bends in the material present a further unique encounter. On the artist statement Kashif states ‘Desire has never been so tangible’ referring to his work, this obviously is a personal viewpoint dependant upon your sexuality. For me this ties in excellently to the title of the exhibition; ‘Tera Incognita’ meaning ’Unknown Ground’. Despite it’s playful, harmless atmosphere it raises certain questions involving something as personal as sexuality, despite sexuality being grounds of uncertainty for some people Kashif has harnessed his own attitudes to sex and is openly experimenting with work which has the potential to make people uncomfortable. It openly questions people’s comfort within social boundaries, I for one think that this is an exciting piece of work; in today’s society something as widely discussed and experimented with as sexuality is a front runner as far as themes of work are concerned.
The work was presented on the upper most floor the Surface Gallery had to offer. This exhibition was an all round intimate encounter showcasing work from Kashif Nadim Chaudry and Emma Dexter. The one I found most interesting was Kashif’s work, this investigative piece was presented in a roughly 8 by 8 meter square space. The natural light in the exhibition filtered in through the near by windows giving each figure definition and the colours in the fabric a shine and purity, the work and the space complimented each other very well. The work correlates well with the three other features in the exhibition, Emma Dexter’s work has a significant man made element to it, each piece has an equally personal feeling around it linking it very well to Kashif’s piece ‘Harem’. She makes work described as autobiographical and is informed by her own experiences, ‘Terra Incognita’ is no different featuring thee works but I feel that her wall relief, ‘Darling in the Vein of Contra’, shares the greatest link to Kashif’s piece both in terms of context and location. Her work runs on the adjacent wall and shares the same playful and imposingly seductive element her exhibition partner Kashif has. All of the work has shared themes linking to ambiguity and vagueness; work based specifically on experiences or ideals leaves a narrative up to interpretation. My practise revolves around central themes regarding ambiguity, this work links particularly well with mine for a few reasons. 1) Covering, hiding and the way these actions compliment the narrative link strongly to my theme, specifically the mystery that Kashif’s work contributes. 2) The act of covering or not supplying all the information is something I’ve involved in my own practise. There were very few negatives regarding this largely delightful trip to Surface gallery. However I firmly believe the initial encounter with the work is uniquely different before reading the artist statement, the availability of the statement is perhaps one of the only criticisms or issues I have with the work. Being able to access this information pre informs you as to what the artists wanted to specifically communicate; in today’s contemporary art scene, where the freedom of interpretation is actively encouraged, is it appropriate to discuss one specific piece of work prior to seeing it? People may perhaps have not seen the work prior to reading the description, this obviously begins a trail of thought regarding the work before initial reactions have been allowed to manifest. Fortunately I encountered the work before reading the statement supplied by the artist; thus resulting in my own, uninformed opinions to present themselves.
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