{VISUAL ART} Reviews
LINEAGE: MICHAEL CRAIG-MARTIN, IAN DAVENPORT AND JULIAN OPIE Printmaking, Jim, but not as we know it ●●●●●
Drip, drip, drip go the variations on a theme that form the quartet of works culled from Ian Davenport’s ‘Etched Puddle’ series, in which assorted rainbow-arrayed, candy-striped, multi- coloured streams trickle down into a similarly hued liquid carpet at the bottom of each frame. Seen together, they appear playfully and trippily retro, recalling the opening credits of that groovy 1970s teatime alternative to Blue Peter, Magpie. In the next room, something similar occurs in one of Julian Opie’s four ‘Japanese Landscapes’, a series of three- dimensional reflective treats akin to old-time breakfast cereal free gifts. This is printmaking, Jim, but not as
we know it, and it’s perhaps telling that both Davenport and Opie are
L A V I T S E F
former students of Michael Craig- Martin, whose other Goldsmiths alumni include the YBA generation of self-styled art stars. Davenport’s penchant for minimalist repetition is further explored in his ‘Ovals’ series, in which a simple shape moves from black and white definition to lemon yellow blanching out to a rich black and blue moonlight. The two examples of Opie’s series ‘This is Shanoza in 3 Parts’, meanwhile, suggest TV spy The Saint doing gymnastics.
Craig-Martin’s own works are a mix of the classical and the mundane, dominated by ‘Tokyo Sunset’, a series of six sunnily-delighted strip-cartoon depictions of everyday consumables: a watch, an opened drink can, a mobile phone, a light bulb, a guitar and some innocuous-looking handcuffs. Turning Japanese has rarely looked so lip-smackingly enticing. (Neil Cooper) ■ Edinburgh Printmakers, 557 2479, until 3 Sep (not Sun/Mon), free.
88 THE LIST 11–18 Aug 2011
ANTON HENNING: INTERIEUR No. 493 Curious and bemusing conceptual art salon ●●●●●
If, as critic and writer Cyril Connolly once noted, ‘vulgarity is the garlic in the salad of life’ German artist Anton Henning might just have halitosis. Henning’s first solo show in Scotland is just about as curious and bemusing an exhibition as you are likely to see this festival but that is no bad thing. The thing to remember is this is a ‘Gesamtkunstwerk’ – a total work of art. The vision here is a complete one, from the individual art works to the plush furnishings and fittings – this is an art salon as imagined by Wilde’s ‘unspeakable and the uneatable’, those with more money than taste. Hemming goes for the feet first. The deep shag pile almost gives the game away immediately. The gallery walls are block painted in turquoise, bright yellows, green, and, with certain valuable exceptions, the art on show is of a foundation art level. These half-arsed abstracts, gothy drawings of skulls, appalling sculptures and wild stabs at religious iconography
would not look out of place in a particularly witless Russian billionaire’s lair. There are, of course, hints that all is not as it seems here. High above, the exquisite bird on a blossom painting, ‘Abendlied’, witnesses the incredulity of the visitor – and then there’s all the nakedness.
The series of pin-up and female nudes that pepper
the exhibition are sexier and better than what they are hung next to but they also seem to objectify women. Hennings is goading us; he is even cutting into our attempts to find something to like. This is conceptual art as reinterpreted by Lacanian philosopher Slavoj Zizek via Monty Python. Upstairs, the crass agenda continues. There’s a light
box painting that wouldn’t look out of place on a Happy Mondays album, sub-Terry Gilliam-style illustrations, more female nudity, terrible resin sculptures and awful video installations. If good men can do bad things, then good artists can do bad art. Henning’s provocations may be childish and infantile but they are oddly complete. (Paul Dale) ■ Talbot Rice Gallery, 650 2210, until 22 Oct, free.
INGRID CALAME Water water everywhere with only a doodle to drink ●●●●●
A river runs through Ingrid Calame’s work. But this river has been drained and all that remains are detritus and old stains. Somewhere between Google Earth screen-grabs, weighty childhood nature books with their own illustrative key codes and fey graffiti lies Calame’s vibrant and polished body of work. It represents a journey towards that moment snatched from eternity with all its itinerant blemishes. This exhibition of drawings and paintings from 1994-2011 kicks off with a bang. Her enormous 1997 painting ‘sspspss . . . UM biddle BOP’ is an amazing riddle of green and grey abandon that’s part Pollock and part bubbling sewer caught in the Los Angeles light. Tracing paper soon gives way to enamel paint on aluminium, however, with a series of Calame’s signature paintings. They are beautiful and baffling, the spirit of Rorschach threatens to make a parody of them but charm and chaos seem part of their very make-up.
Further in, a shipping vibe takes hold. Simulated numbered steel
sheeting that could have once been forged in the docks of Glasgow fill the walls alongside pencil works and studies like a half thought- out proletarian pop art experiment. Upstairs the light meets Calame’s beautifully tasteful etchings and scribblings. It’s all about the water metaphors, the river basins, the desalinated concrete troughs that cleave and cut through her native land. These are the tracings of a barge-dwelling mad lady. Happy and serene in her liquidy grid lock. These are memorial maps to an old world that man has made new but not better. (Paul Dale) ■ Fruitmarket Gallery, 225 2383, until 9 Oct, free.