Tag: aesthetic

Wolfgang Tillmans: Fragile – A Question to The Art of Photography and its Materiality

An activation of materiality. A display of careful calculation. Grids and lines are followed in a non-conforming rhythm. Architecture is used as a curatorial device. An installation masterpiece. A photograph as a test. A photograph as a material object. A photograph as a sculptural object. Images untouched by digital manipulation. Welcome to two decades of Wolfgang Tillmans embodied under the title Fragile. Fragility apparent in both subject and material artefact.

Patient, yet enthusiastic spectators gather to consume the address by JAG’s curator-in-chief, Khwezi Gule, at the press opening of Fragile. As Gule leaves, Tillmans begins to guide his audience, manoeuvring eager bodies through the expanse of his show. Stepping into the first space you are frozen in your tracks by one of his most well-known works, Lutz & Alex sitting in the trees (1992) – a large-scale photograph of two figures, naked torsos exposed, finding minimal cover with their vinyl jackets loosely styled on their frames. But the amazement, appreciation and emotion that his works instil are yet to be explored by us, his immediate audience.

Tillmans invites his audience to interact with Sendeschluss/End of Broadcast by asking us to step closer to the black and white pixel image. Just close enough to prevent your face from touching the surface. And it is then revealed to the naked eye that this image is constructed of colour. This opening to the show, comprised of over 200 works spanning from 1986 – 2018, invites a word of caution from the artist, warning against first impressions, and encouraging a second look.

‘Lutz, Alex, Suzanne & Christopher on beach’

With work that holds an eminent position in the world of contemporary art, the artist is known for his perpetual redefining of the photographic medium as an artefact of materiality and as an image constructed by light. Led by an unquenchable curiosity, Tillmans navigates the world and reproduces that which he observes with his eye by occasionally placing a camera in front of it. His abstract works and more sculptural pieces include Paper Drop, the Lighter series (one of Tillmans’ very view series of work) and Freischwimmer / Greifbar. Through his experimental approach, Tillmans has developed the photographic medium, both the technical and aesthetic potentialities of the practice further.

Intimacy, compassion and familiarity translate in image form creating a tangible emotion. An observational modus operandi characterised by a humanist approach to the complexities of the world. Tillmans’ oeuvre comprises of his club culture photographs from the 1990s, abstract works that find their footing in extreme formal reductionism, images narrowing in on the beauty of the everyday, and depictions that display a rigorous perception containing a grounded socio-political awareness.

‘Freischwimmer / Greifbar’

In discussion with the German photographer he elaborates on his interest in objects of the everyday and the narrative of his work by explaining that for him these objects are not necessarily banal objects. His train of thought continues to the value of such objects, “I’m very aware of the values potentially attributed to the things that I photograph, but want to leave the absolute values also quite open.” Explaining this statement through various examples of images in the exhibition, he ends off with the following trajectory, “I choose not to influence. I choose things to settle. It’s the narratives that are usually non-linear objects, and people and places in the pictures and installations. The narratives and associations are definitely more driven by challenging value systems.”

Reflecting on his work, Tillmans expresses that he does not see himself as a deconstructivist but rather leans towards what he refers to as a nostalgic modernist. “My way of installation at first glance is sort of not modernist but maybe actually it is because there is a certain purity and vigor and a trust in a linear development. Not just in atomization. It looks so super multi varied but actually there are, rhythms, there are recurring themes…”.

Contrary to tradition, Tillmans does not often work within the frame of series. After the act of taking his photograph, the need to recreate a similar image is worn. “Because I like to make work that is coming from an actual engagement with a subject matter in the here and now and not just from the idea that I should make another one like this.” Tillmans here refers to a feeling of intensity – an instinct to create. Over 30 years of photographing he now has “families of pictures”.

‘Deer Hirsch’

Connecting the works on display to fragility, Tillmans explains that Fragile fulfills the purpose of working as a title and is not a defining label in itself. There are however moments of fragility captured in an expression, in an emotion felt or in the medium of photography. Then there is the fragility of appropriating the world as can be seen in the work Truth Study Centre. Attracted to the economic nature of the photographic medium, Tillmans equally enjoys the ability it has to facilitate conversations around physically concrete and sculptural issues.

Tillmans sees the art as something that allows him to speak about the physical world and simultaneously penetrate something that is more psychological. “It’s so able to record emotions and relations and it can manipulate a lot and pretend a lot but used sensitively it is an incredibly psychological medium.”

What draws one to a Wolfgang Tillmans show is more than the images displayed, in part you are pulled by his curatorial method that becomes an artwork in itself. Looking back on his journey with curation, Tillmans explains that his current mode of display was not something which he had planned to be a recurring part of his practice. He states, “I didn’t plan to come up with a way of making art that would leave ultimately only myself to install the exhibitions and it ended up this way.” It was with his first exhibition in 1993 that he first employed this method of display resulting in curators asking him to bring forth his particular grammars and syntaxes in shows. “…it really is to try to represent the way how I look at the world. Which is not just ordered in sections and it’s not all in a line. It’s allowing different attitudes.”

‘Paper Drop’

An agreement to the fragility that defines us as individuals and that influences our relations to one another is viewed as strength. Since his adolescence, Tillmans has been acutely aware of this interplay which is marked throughout the expanse of his artistic practice. Fragile has been used by Tillmans before, as an early artist name as well as the title of a music project he was involved in. Teasing out new ways of making with frailty, failure and rifts, these make reference to the imperfection of life and open up diverse perspectives on the materiality of the above.

Subjectivity with the potential to transform. Providing an extensive overview of his complex work this exhibition is a showcase of the various shapes of artistic expression of Wolfgang Tillmans. The show includes photography from large scale installations taking up an entire room, to small post card images and even smaller polaroids of 90’s party culture, publications, sculptural objects, video content and the installation practice particular to the artist. Activating discourse, an exchange of reaction takes place when presented with new scenarios. Space is given for mystery, deep emotion and speculation.

A sculptural practice wrapped around economy. An absolute awareness of the materiality of, not only his medium, but life itself. The deeply psychological nature of his portraits ingrained. To see as never seen before. Attending this show is a perception warp itself and a realization of fragility, a realization of your own inevitable fallibility and life span. If you enjoy walking out of your comfort it is definitely where you should be.

Wolfgang Tillmans: Fragile will run to the 30 September 2018 at the Johannesburg Art Gallery. I promise there is no regretting it.

‘Headlight (f)’

‘Anders pulling splinter from his foot’

‘astro crusto’

19 July 2018
Puppy – Demons of the New School

The critical consensus on guitar rock in thelate-90s is that sensitive indie bands were overshadowed by bombastic nu-metal. Music writers love the idea that the slack jawed masses were too busy headbanging to appreciate sophisticated slackers like Built to Spill or Elliot Smith.

But since 2013, the infectious British rock group Puppy has gleefully subverted this narrative by bridging these supposedly disparate influences. Will Michael (bass/vocals), Billy Howard (drums) and Jock Norton (singer/guitarist) combine the heavy riffs of classic Deftones and Korn with the indie pop of Grandaddy and Teenage Fanclub. This inspired concept forms the basis for their two EP’s Vol I (2015) and Vol II (2016). Puppy’s increasingly heavy work fuses a metal sense of menace with melodious verve and Jock’s strikingly high and clear vocals.

Billy and Jock have been in the rock trenches together since they were school kids in North London. Via email, Billy discussed the harrowing story of being sent home from school for wearing the f-bomb strewn lyrics of Soulfly’s ‘Jumpdafuckup’ on a t-shirt. He even told me that he was wearing some vintage Deftones gear while replying to my questions. We also discussed the ultimate fictional representation of a 1990s metal head, the hapless AJ Soprano- “There was a golden age in The Sopranos when AJ’s a young, angsty spotty skater and pretty much everything he says or wears is amazing. I’m pretty sure he has a burgundy Slipknot windbreaker with a barcode on the back. I always wanted one but could never find it. AJ Soprano is, for better or for worse, a definite inspiration on the band!”

The band is itself quickly making a name for their image with Billy, an accomplished visual artist, directing a string of winningly odd music videos. Keeping things in-house means the videos “are a really important part of our identity and aesthetic, rather than just a means of promoting a specific song”. My personal favorite is the horror themed ‘Beast’, which does a great update on the old metal music video tropes of hooded cultists and evil fog.

Their most ambitious work to date is ‘Demons‘. “It’s a song about confronting your problems and trying to embrace them somehow. We wanted to work around the aesthetics of various cults, pseudo-sciences and quasi-religions that literally try and sell you an answer to your problems in the pursuit of happiness or whatever”. Further inspiration was found in cultural precedents like Leonard Cohen’s time in a Buddhist monastery and “Beck’s veiled explorations of his own Scientology”.

Hilariously, they circulated the story that they had joined the totally made up Grand Order of Ascension and Transcendence in a bid to become more successful.

“In the build up to the video’s release we started making cultish memes and sharing them along with abstract, nonsensical bits of text about our new found faith and love for the Ascended Master! In hindsight though we maybe went a little overboard with it. We got a lot of worried messages from family and friends asking if we were ok. I think some people thought we’d gone fully Children of God. Whilst maybe it wasn’t the cleverest career move, it was definitely fun”.

Puppy is currently finishing up their debut album for release later this year. Things are poised to get even bigger for them as “last year we signed with Spinefarm Records, which was super exciting for us as they look after some of our favourite bands, like Ghost BC, Electric Wizard and weirdly enough, Korn”. And like their influences, Puppy have the theatricality and songwriting to become cult heroes in their own right.

19 April 2018
‘Soft Shells’ – Creating Human Clothing Sculptures with Libby Oliver

A cocoon of carefully interwoven fabric. Shoes, scarves, shirts, pants, skirts, jackets – every item of clothing a person owns morphed to make a human-sized sculpture. Why is that? Because there is a human being inside this heap of clothing.

Canadian photographer Libby Oliver is spellbound by the power that clothing has to simultaneously reveal and veil human identity and desire. Soft Shells is a visual exploration of this susceptibility to portray our personalities through dress and at the same time to use wardrobe to hide our insecurities from the world.

To create this body of work Libby buried her subjects in every item of clothing that they own. At first glance, the viewer might perceive these cloth sculptures as laundry heaps. Upon closer inspection, however, the viewer will be able to identify small sections of human flesh in the form of foreheads, hands and peeping eyes escaping from the binding clothing stacks of scarves, pants and blouses.

In her artist’s statement, Libby expresses “This work arises from my interest in artificiality, visual power relationships and indexing a person through their belongings. Through this series, I aim to explore the tension point between a person’s curated individuality and my personal manipulation of their aesthetic. Soft Shells speaks of human vulnerability, trust, power and control relations of visual interpretation.”

Libby aspires to travel with her ongoing project to various locations in order to broaden the representation of identities, cultures and clothing. For more of her work check out her Instagram.

17 April 2018
The almost impossible self-combustion of Andrew Aitchison’s ‘Containing Space’

A chair ignites and something seeps in from beyond the border- it’s all unsettled. A sudden awareness of the force of the floor when it flat-catches your foot reaching for a stair that isn’t there. In preparation for this article, I was sent a video documenting Andrew Aitchison’s ‘Containing Space’, a body of work produced while he was studying at a prominent art institution in Cape Town. In the back of the video, from some strange place, a voice certainly pitches; “You’ll notice how shitty the standard is… like… ya.” And I couldn’t get rid of this… had to replay it over and over. Because although it wasn’t a part of the actual exhibition or didn’t specifically relate to Aitchison’s work (as only one of the graduates presenting), there’s something there that speaks to his deliberately unfinished interrogation, to the beauty of an ugly accident, to the ungraceful arm-in-arm of making and unmaking, of success and failure; the rough and unsubmissive sketch of it all. What does it mean to occupy the space of the ‘artist’, to have the privilege of some kind of investment in, and access to, this title, even before the production begins and then to go through that process, the physical labour of it, only to have that all reduced to an object whose viability is ‘authoritatively’ designated by fleeting glances that fail to see the splinters in your hands?

Aitchison’s exhibition persistently questions the subtleties of structures of power. How does a home come to be such a thing? Can the violence of settling somehow be traced in the way that a person reclines? The way bricks can be read as a single smooth surface? Aitchison’s work forces an immediate encounter with all the ambiguities of the construction site, both internal and external to the educational institution; the precarity of scaffolding, the vulnerabilities of guarding, the designation of value through particular projections necessitated only through a blind-eye to what’s already there, the ways in which creating one structures breaks others apart, the way the unfinished is often marked-off by screens intending to exclude it from sight… the ugly, awkward creature of it all. Aitchison deliberately leaves these gut-wires exposed, frays the polish of the object by calling attention to the abrasive act involved.

‘Containing Space’ is a product of its contemporary context in its refusal to avoid that which can’t be neatly resolved. What does it mean to be producing from a particular kind of machine, at a particular time, and in a particular context where the redundancy of the ‘post-racial’ hits you square-in-the-face? How can the pressure to define a specific identity be navigated when properly acknowledging your own positionality demands multiple degrees of effacement? Is there a way to speak without actually occupying the space you are required to surrender? Aitchison’s work grapples with some of these complexities, unfixing an authoritative stance through the use of multiple materials and mediums that muddy the exhibition format and bring into account the rich textures of worlds that already far exceed the stuffiness of the established. You can’t master the things that are there, tell exactly where they should start and where they should end, disconnect the eye they engage when walking back into the streets, take them home with the open-click of a wallet.

In its strange uses of scale, its appropriations and its repurposings, even in its title; ‘Containing Space’ plays authenticity as a kind of running joke- it radically gambles with its own success and bears witness to ways in which structure can both starve and feed itself. There is something unsettling in Aitchison’s refusal to simply inherit that which has been given, and it is this quality that is perhaps the most exciting- a sense that his commitment to the labour of production will continue to be played out in both formal and informal settings; that the grain of the work will continue to be its own exoneration, undeterred by the dull force of designations or the stagnant borders of cultural inaugurations. The collection flares with a powerful question; how can we survive this if we aren’t sincerely willing to risk our own, almost impossible, self-combustion?

28 March 2016