Tag: Callan Grecia

  • Group exhibition ‘shady tactics’ shows how throwing shade at institutions is a productive past time for artists

    Group exhibition ‘shady tactics’ shows how throwing shade at institutions is a productive past time for artists

    The group exhibition shady tactics showing at SMAC Gallery in Cape Town purposefully throws shade at institutions, and presents this as a productive past time for artists. For this show ‘throwing shade’ is a kind of playful, at times flirtatious, interaction with the use these institutions present for the practice of artists. This productive cheekiness highlights the power matrix within which these institutions operate and emphasizes their maintenance of the heavy, pungent presence of coloniality. In an email interview with the show’s curator, Thuli Gamedze, she explained that for her criticality is a “deeply creative impulse.” The show’s title opens up a space for work that “chooses to be explicitly political and critical” and for artists who “resist the stylistic desires of art institutions, who can be guilty of pushing for a certain ‘look and feel’ when artists begin to be ’political’.” The projects for the show share a number of alternatives – “new, incorrect uses for things, along with incomplete and drifting ideas, failures, jokes and strange approaches to logic.”

    When asked about her approach for curating shady tactics, Thulile explained that she wanted to work with artists of colour who are serious about the role of playfulness in their practices. The fact that the people included in the show are not represented by specific galleries brings a kind of open playfulness and unbounded approach for critical expression. “I was really anxious when I was trying to figure out who to ask – I scoured the last few years of catalogues from art schools around the country, gained a stalker-like edge on instagram, and made like a hundred lists, torturing myself trying to make rational sense of what was actually quite an intuitive process.” shady tactics includes work by Sitaara Stodel, Callan Grecia, Simnikiwe Buhlungu, Mitchell Messina, Katleho Mosehle and Bonolo Kavula.

    In getting the idea for the show off the ground, Thulile explained that conversation and sociality are important for how she wanted the process to unfold. Having never worked closely with a gallery as a curator before, and only havng educational spaces as reference points, Thulile created a rhythm of regular dialogue with the selected artists and, when possible, shared space with the artists to work through ideas for the show.

    Following her creative impulse, Thulile found connections between the works, ensuring that they speak to one another as well as the title for the show. The text for the show came out of watching the various stages of creation for each work. “The objects were not that important though. I think I was interested in giving space to people as whole creative entities – people whose sensibility, tone and politics I respect as generative, if visually unpredictable and always swinging. I think things weaved themselves together quite nicely visually, but I also think there was a big chance it could’ve ended up looking off as a whole because I hadn’t pinned people down specifically on my expectation of their stylistic approaches. But that’s interesting too.”

    ‘fuck you I tried my best’ by Callan Gracia

    Each artist’s work connects with the exhibition title by engaging in some form of institutional appropriation – “using ‘standardised’ language but messing around with it to change the message.” Callan Gracia’s fuck you I tried my best looks at public walls and the messaging conveyed on them through his depiction of a giant rainbow sprinkled with fear and anxiety-inducing images. In this way he unpicks the rainbow nation rhetoric that is used in post-apartheid South Africa. “Callan’s huge rainbow is complicated and disrupted by his numerous depictions of dystopian destructions of post-1994 middle-class idealism,” Thuli explains.

    In A Brief History of the Institute Mitchell Messina uses a collection of high quality image files which are curated and repeated over a number of scenes, accompanied by sound and text, to tell the stories around the fictional construction of a new art institution. The stories illuminate the money-driven nature of the art world within our neoliberal environment. “Mitch’s detailed storytelling…parallels familiar narratives of big money’s relationships with art in Africa.”

    ‘(NO) SEX IN CT’ by Katleho Mosehle

    Katleho Mosehle’s (NO) SEX IN CT makes a comment on white feminism within the media, embodied by the character of Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City. This work demonstrates the violence of white femininism. Mosehle’s absurdist recreation of Carrie uses humour and caricature as devices to highlight this. Bonolo Kavula’s Fragilethis way up looks at the ways in which the colonial gaze ‘others’ and reinforces cultural dominance. By using the discursive and visual language of the YouTube DIY tutorial, Bonolo teaches the printing process and simultaneously problematizes the divide between ‘art’ and ‘craft’. “Bonolo’s work, combining a satirical commentary of art versus craft has intense political relevance in SA’s super elitist art world,” Thuli adds.

    In her work Homesick, Sitaara Stodel constructs a section of a living room, with the overall work teasing out definitions of ‘homeness’. She uses still images collated from the internet and secondhand stores that demonstrate idealistic ideas of home to create a collage and video present in the installation. Her play on suspension and stillness creates an uneasy mood, recognizing that this home is not fully formed or able to contain a fixed comfort. “Sitaara’s work acts as quite an intimate reference point for the whole show, where her appropriation of images of other peoples’ homes to make her own narrative speaks to the desire for whatever ‘being at home’ means – an inherently political notion here, but also one she tackles in a deeply personal way.”

    ‘Homesick’ by Sitaara Stodel

    Simnikiwe Buhlungu’s performative installation A Loooooong Ass Message, ya dig? uses an old fax machine to deliver a message that spills over a stack of office boxes. This indirect presence of the artist speaks to questions around lack of access. The interruption of the gallery’s telephone line to deliver faxes of “the content erased and re-erased by art institutions” points to the importance of inserting politicised work that speaks against this erasure.

    The show will be up at SMAC Gallery in Cape Town until the 9th of June.

    ‘A Brief History of the Institute’ by Mitchell Messina
    ‘Fragile: this way up’ by Bonolo Kavula
  • Oakland Museum explores a post-capitalist world

    “Much of the evidence of capitalism is either eroding over time or simply not known or easily accessible to the public.”

    This is the parallel universe in which we are placed. In Oakland, California, the Museum of Capitalism looks at capitalism as if it were from a distant, antiquated past. It’s a world where capitalism is dead.

    As a recently converted vegan, who spent much of my years as a politics student cursing the evils of the free market, the notion of this world seems awesome. No iPhone hegemony, no conspicuous consumption, no reality TV worship. But as I explore the execution of this post bitcoin world, it seems as idealistic as the liberal left socialism so many of us try to practice.

    First and foremost, the Museum, opened in June this year, to oohs and aahs from the international community, was curated by two artists, Andrea Steven and Timothy Furstnau. The pair have been collaborating for nearly 10 years on various projects which question the nature of material wealth, waste and what the future would look like if the world was a little different.

    Jennifer Dalton, Ask Not for Whom the Art is Intended, 2015.

    And while that makes them experts in terms of putting this together, being two white art practitioners who were able to secure an award worth $150 000 to open the exhibition so obviously smacks of a very present world where capitalism is real, and serves some above others.

    But, let’s suspend the politics of art funding, and pretend that the curation process doesn’t matter all that much (wink wink). There is of course the big question of the works which are the pillars of this future world.

    One of the most standout features of the work is that almost none of it involves people. We are asked to imagine a speculative space, with the relics of capitalism, with no real engagement about what economics mean for people. South African artist, Callan Grecia, whose most recent works ‘These Aesthetics Are Not New’ touches on the effect of technology on connections and relationship, weighs in.

    “I like it but I think it’s kind of hypocritical in some senses just due to the capitalistic nature inherent in the idea of an exhibition which by its essence is a capitalistic device? I still love it but I think we should be aware of that while looking,” he says.

    Jordan Bennett, Artifact Bags (The Bay, Walmart and Target), 2013–15.

    That said, there are some seriously creative moments held tightly in the space. With the inclusion of a steel container reminiscent of the Vietnam War, and Christy Chow’s treadmill screen which gives viewers a look inside a Chinese factory, there has been some attempt at engagement with the political alongside the historical.

    Elsewhere Rimini Protokoll offers a very hands-on engagement with what is (quite highbrow, we are 1%) capitalism. Theatre goers buy tickets in the form of Daimler stock and invited to engage in a meeting, performing the very wheeling and dealing.

    Placed alongside Chow’s work, it speaks straight to the heart of accumulation by dispossession – the life blood of the capitalist world. Whether the curators intended this contrast can of course, only be guessed at, and it would be interesting to see whether a real life future audience from 3035 would read it with the same nuance that an audience living IN capitalism would do.

    Superflex, Bankrupt Banks Flags.
  • ‘These Aesthetics Are Not New’ – exhibition by artist Callan Grecia

    Young artist Callan Grecia, having recently graduated with his Masters in Painting at UCKAR, is exploring the relationship network conditions in a Post-Internet society have on the medium of oil paint. I interviewed him about his show titled These Aesthetics Are Not New (2017).

    Tell our readers about the title you chose for your exhibition, ‘These Aesthetics Are Not New’.

    The title for the show came from the idea that everything comes from something. There is nothing new in an age of instantaneous access where we are constantly exposed and re-exposed to images like never before. If you look at fashion, music and art, things are cyclical and the Internet is a catalyst for this effect to occur faster and faster. I guess I was also tired of hearing and seeing the same shit over and over, heralded as ‘new’ and ‘fresh’ until you do some digging and see that you can’t really escape the languages of visual literacy that have been engrained in us consciously and subconsciously.

    Tell our readers what the exhibition was about.   

    I’ll be honest I can’t really pinpoint things in that way because this exhibition seems to be the first step in a larger, longer process of exploration and learning, but I can say that the work deals with ideas of wish fulfillment, brought about by the instantaneous access of the Internet. The image object is also a concept I’ve been exploring, basically the image as object and the object as image and the convergence of the two (digital media and physical painted works). The work becomes a vehicle for network conditions in that it takes from this space, replicates digital aesthetics in a physical space and is then able to either be reintroduced into the digital space, or not depending on how and where the slippages between the two occur.

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    What are some of the Post-internet conditions/cultural aspects that you have focused on for your exhibition? Tell our readers about your decision to use paintings, t-shirts, installed elements and an immersive sound piece in your exhibition.

    Curatorial considerations to include these elements were based on the feedback loop of the Internet, and the t-shirts with prints of the paintings on the walls on them, coupled with installed vinyl that spoke to internet slang, blaring rap music and cellphone notifications created this immersive, layered space that replicated the speed and frantic nature of the world within the screen.

    Tell our readers about your decision to live stream your exhibition on Instagram.

    The instagram live stream was essentially the last layer, which became the re-induction of the work into a digital space. It also provided instantaneous access to the paintings but with a heavy digital grain that changed the way the works would be read IRL. It was a conscious decision that paid off conceptually and also had the advantage of allowing people who could not make the opening night a chance to see the show from their own spaces.

    What were some of the responses to your work at the gallery vs on Instagram?

    The abstraction came into its own for the viewers who got to see them in the flesh and the figurative work was what got the most attention on instagram. The grain of the digital tends to have a flattening effect and the devices these images are viewed on lend themselves to figuration. You can’t really pick up on the intricacies of the abstract works on instagram, or feel their size, presence and depth, whereas you can easily recognize and appreciate figuration, I believe, on a mobile platform.

    Check out Callan’s online catalogue to see more of his work or follow him on Instagram to some of his work’s in progress.

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