People are crazy and times are strange I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range I used to care, but things have changed
So his Royal Bobness fetched up in Nottingham for the first time (I think) since 1966…opening up his set with these particularly pertinent lyrics – at least for yours truly. Maybe (mostly) its a consequence of my age but they seem to sum up our ridiculous and crazy world. How we can be sleep walking towards totalitarianism across the western world I really don’t know – just shows how seventy plus years of stability makes people (or rather a lot of them) complacent I guess. We can only hope that once things start getting seriously askew they may wake up.
And Bob has also changed everything, not least the tempo, tone and even the melodies of some of his best known songs alongside those many more recent and less well known ditties (a solid bunch off the Tempest album). But it was a decent show, house lights down on the dot of eight pm. and an hour and forty minutes of non-stop boogie, hard rock and some alarming crooning! But Bob always goes his own way and as one of these standards said ‘Why Try To Change Me Now’? So I kind of appreciate this bobbing and weaving to keep the audiences guessing.
I’m flitting between bodies of work in my painting too. As is by now well known to any followers of these ramblings I don’t do a ‘signature’ style but address each set of pictures in whatever manner seems to me to suit the occasion. Its especially messy right now. In one corner sits the canvas pieces for the Lavanderia series, in another the lumps and bumps of my Paintings Standing Up. Over on one wall another in the extending series of Very Like Jazz whilst right here is another of the twenty five or so small oils in the Charnwood series Playground Of The Midlands. Up on the balcony are the Water paintings (the second part of the Wood, Water & Rock pictures that take their cue from Schama’s Landscape & Memory). And somewhere at the back a small panel collection provisionally titled The Rigged Deck. Of course there’s also the painting of maps, the Wonky Geometries and the RagBags that just chug along forever. So who am I to call the world crazy!
Where to start to describe a first visit to New York? Hard to avoid the cliches…the Empire State, Staten Island Ferry, Central Park…the Met, Moma and Chelsea. This last reached by the High Line from the upper part of Greenwich Village…a walk worth taking. Oh and standing on the very spot that Dylan and Sara were photographed for the ‘Freewheelin’ album cover on Jones St. Just a block or so from our hotel.
So cliches (but what cliches) apart then what else? The art then. Les Demoiselles so much more than even those pictures of it…the textures and the audacity of the handling especially. The Red Studio almost matching it for audaciousness but with a velvety elegance to match. And Moma was so crowded at five on a Friday afternoon during the weekly four hour free slot…that strangely made the experience all the more exciting.
Our first stop in Chelsea had been Hauser & Wirth, a huge splendid, almost Museum like venue that housed a show from an exceptional private collection. On entering the first space I encounter a first class Clyfford Still, a massive blue picture that is amongst his very best. It is flanked on one side by an even bigger Morris Louis Veil and on the other by Ariel, the big Barney Newman picture on the cover of a Tate publication I’ve cherished for thirty years or more. Somehow these paintings seem immediately to throw down a substantial challenge…so much abstraction now is conducted on a polite drawing room scale and whilst that’s fine as regards certain aspects of the engagement with painting now there are still some big questions about materiality on the large-scale. This comes up a few blocks on where Ross Bleckner is showing new work for the first time in five years. I’m really pleased to have dropped on for this one…after all Bleckner has substantially mined some subject matter I’ve been interested in of late and I am an admirer of long standing. These new canvases reprise a number of his themes over the years and do so with considerable panache and a deal of painterly craft.
The show sits pretty much next door to a show by Jeff Elrod. Elrod has pushed hard up against the advent of the digital, and he has been down another track that I’ve dabbled with. In a number of works a digitized image of a doodle and/ or collage (of indeterminate size) has been stretched up and a very modest painterly intervention offered up. In the pieces I made I was interested in playing off the reiterative processing of the marks and the juxtaposition of photographic material with paint, real and reproduced. Elrod was doing something of the same although his interventions were very sketchy and provisional…hesitant and ill considered perhaps, if one were being cruel.
I’m skirting around much of what we saw, especially the work that sits outside painting. A good deal of it (especially by established big hitters) seemed overblown and over produced, a kind of toys for Russian oligarchs really. It is also increasingly clear that the contemporary art market is now utterly captivated by commercial considerations…I’m not naively saying this (I wrote my undergraduate thesis on the topic forty years back looking back on five hundred years of the same) but its a matter of degree. And I can’t help feeling that a dealer like Sonnabend (currently being honoured with a retrospective at Moma) really wouldn’t dare follow her instincts in the way she did back in the 60’s and 70’s nor make much of a living if she did.
One of the highlights of the trip, artwise, was the utterly extraordinary The Rufusal of Time by William Kentridge that is on display at the Met. To be a standout feature of the Met is in itself a tall order, after all the place is exhausingly crammed with the most exceptional artefacts…far more than we could deal with in a single visit. But Kentridge continues to delight, in this work with a tableaux that seems effortless but obviously took a great deal of conceptual genius and no mean co-ordination as well as his trademark graphic excellence. However the event that stands out above all others is the simply stunning display of four small devotional paintings by Piero Della Francesca that sit embedded in the centre of the European galleries. The focus of this jewel of a show is a restored picture – Saint Jerome and A Supplicant. The careful and painstaking restoration reveals much of the sublety of the work that must have been evident at the time the artist painted it and the ensemble of works in the room repay much looking…and the publication is a good indicator of the value of the enterprise. There was more one could talk about but for now I’m still a little jet lagged and having to pinch myself that I was ever there at all!