art, leisure, life and scandal

confronting heroes can be bittersweet,

corporate lecture halls and irritating ringtones

aren’t exactly what dreams are made of...

unfortunately I didn't make it to alain badiou's public lecture. it co-incided with the opening of an exhibition I was organising, hence the predominance of early-arriving well-wishers glowing with the anticipation of encountering a bona-fide french philosopher in our antipodean arena.

artist and curator and gallery guide and writer emil dryburgh penned the above portrait of the man himself as well as a thoughtful reflection on the enfant terrible of the online auckland art-writing entity #500 words.

an ever-energised and positive presence in both the institutional realm of the aag as well as artist run spaces (dryburgh is part of F U Z Z Y V I B E S) over the past year he has written perspicacious and tender reflections on many a topic, some favourites of which I have listed below. what they all share is an all too rare generosity, thoughtfulness, humour and charm.

on alain badiou

on farewelling gloria knight

on campbell patterson and the creative inhabitants of public institutions

on D.A.N.C.E. art club

on art and leisure

image: portrait of alain badiou by emil dryburgh.

rainbow warriors of light

amy howden-chapman has two exhibitions on in auckland at the moment.
'advice for our aerial ocean' is in the mezzanine at artspace.
it looks at the examples of areas of land and river that have become legal entities
as a possible example for the atmosphere or aerial ocean.
there is sound, images, architectural interventions and places to read.
and at te uru in titirangi is 'they say ten thousand years'
an exploration of political mobilisation and motivation
through the lens of the new zealand nuclear free and peace movement.
in a lovely new gallery howden-chapman has placed textile works in glass,
video and audio works and text to be read on large brown corduroy cushions.

this creating of a space to pause, reflect and read in the midst of a gallery
 is quite captivating.

v

amy howden-chapman
'they say ten thousand years'
november 1 - december 3
te uru waitakere contemporary gallery
420 titirangi road, titirangi

'advice for our aerial ocean'
artspace mezzanine

image: taken from the periodic (hopefully they don't mind)

mattering

if you're in wellington this week

or auckland next week

do be sure to visit the launch of the journal
'matters 5.' edited by georgina watson

and featuring writing by among others:

rebecca boswell, thomasin sleigh and john ward knox!

v

matters 5 launch

february 13, 6pm

robert heald gallery

209 leftbank, cuba mall, wellington

&

february 21, 6pm

ferari space

66 crummer rd, grey lynn, auckland

image: robert hood, glacier with peanut, (300x225mm, LED photo print, edition of 5) 2013

summer evening light

peonies, paper and light.

last week was the launch of

matters 4

at gloria knight.

it was the first evening of summer.

matters 4

newcall publishing

co-edited by georgina watson

& victoria wynne-jones

featuring work by: xin cheng, D.A.N.C.E. art club,

alex davidson, anya henis, areez katki,

sonya lacey, schaeffer lemalu, letting space

and john ward knox

garden on garden

stretching and un-stretching

flowers, hessian and canvas.

shapes made from absences.

traces. materials turned inside-out. some

play with display, supports and frames.

economical, warm, brave and clever.

zac langdon-pole

'nothing by itself'

may 18 - june 23

michael lett

285/2 great north rd

auckland

images: zac langdon pole 'wisteria 11,''untitled (grey),' 'untitled,' 'garden on garden,' 'morning pansy / today interiors' and 'at its edges' (2012)

tuileries

sadly this show has finished, but I thought I'd make a little note anyway.

this small and simple collection of paintings

struck a chord with its cunning palettes, silks and linen.

there were transparencies, maskings and coloured opacities.

selina foote's solo exhibition at sue crockford exuded

a unique and quiet energy.

v

selina foote

'tuileries'

february 7 - march 3

sue crockford

suite 2c edeans building, 2 queen street, auckland

images: 'brunet i' (oil on linen, 300 x 450mm) and offenbach i (oil on silk, 500 x 600mm) both by selina foote and from 2012.

choreographic objects

different types of portals and gateways ajar...

incised book pages, thread dyed in red wine,

white plaster, a fresh wooden door-frame, 16mm.

sriwhana spong's solo exhibition at michael lett is

tentative, intricate and poised.

v

sriwhana spong

'the purple blotter'

march 1-31

michael lett

285/2 great north road, auckland

image: sriwhana spong, 'mayan sun, powdered frost' 2012. (book pages, coloured filter, lighting gel, frame)

400 x 498mm.

hard, then soft

“since I’ve been boxing I think I have become more aggressive,

confident and classically masculine”

out in the cold, on a gravel-gridded roof in central auckland, three men enacted a triptych of testosterone, submitting themselves to a gruelling routine, rotating between sets of skipping, press-ups, sit-ups and miscellaneous forms of physical exercise. each action demonstrated a rigid, masochistic and narcissistic athleticism. these acts were punctuated by an air horn and alternated with olfactory equivalents ritualistically applied. lynx spray deodorant, old-spice smelling talcum powder, hairspray, ice, hair gel and sweat, they all contributed to the smell of men.

though beloved of boxers around the world, the art of skipping complicates matters, though masculine it is also quintessentially girlish. josh rutter and his performers embrace this contradiction and it then forms the crux of this piece. by exerting themselves, by skipping, at first conscientiously, then manically, then dreamily they playfully pull apart predominant assumptions about masculinity.

rutter’s extended cast of butterfly-dream-boys create synthetic rites and hybrid ceremonies that fluidly navigate between primal, bestial becoming-animal to graceful, joyous and unabashed exuberance. besides athleticism and virtuosity there was flesh gone soft with neglect or wiry with age. bleeding before us, rutter’s men demonstrated camaraderie, tournaments, slap games, a packing-tape duel… a gestus that was a silent scream through a mask of shaving foam… a playful wrestle became the act of crying upon a mate’s shoulder.

there were great ejaculations of energy drinks, there was a sculling back of swappas, there was the sharp scent that is the burn of scuffed sneaker rubber. folk-masculine-pseudo-liturgies took place manifesting yearning. transcendence was sought in a large ruck and in upwards clutching gestures, a grasping for respect, understanding, love, god or perhaps a rugby ball. here choreographer became ref, coach or dj. at one point the dishevelled tribe were assimilated into white-boy shuffles beneath strobe lights, sometimes battling each other for supremacy.

after erecting a giant plastic phallus, rutter’s boys crawled inside it like retrogressive sperm, chanting, howling, hooting, then sinking down, post-coital, spent, curled within what resembled a flaccid used condom. it felt as though a new masculinity had been realised. it looked like bloody hard work, but it was wonderful.

josh rutter

'dance like a butterfly dream boy'

february 22-23

new performance festival

aotea centre, auckland

paper cuts

 "if he thought about it at all, but I don't believe

he ever thought, it was that he and his shadow, when

brought near each other, would join like drops of

water; and when they did not he was appalled"

- from 'peter pan' by j.m. barrie

blinking and playful, an industrious black and white projection of fleur elise noble appears to open and close doors. she scrubs screens clean with a broom, drinks wine and manages to inhabit a multitude of scenes projected upon very large pieces of paper.

beginning with blankness or blackness noble proceeds to construct a series of charming mini-narratives and episodes with the aid of multiple digital projections. there were two very large, cinema-type screens of paper, one was placed upon an easel, another was shaped like a figure. torn and angular papers scattered upon the stage floor also caught the light and projections so that they all flickered alive. paper folded and unfolded, screens shifted and fell in an attempt to catch up with noble’s various actions and exploits.

the pursuit or chase ribboned throughout the performance and here multiple screens and surfaces allowed for multiple avenues of escape. noble pursued a paper-cut-out version of herself and evaded an army of stern-faced puppets attempting to puppeteer her. the projected and stop-animated puppets formed an eccentric family, a comedic chorus of antagonists. doubles and shadows flickered, appearing and disappearing.

despite their intentions to foil noble’s best-laid plans the puppets were no match for the omnipotence of the author/artist. throughout the performance noble flawlessly commingled drawing, silent-film, stop-animation, live-action and recorded sounds. all interacted seamlessly with animate and papery set design. most disconcerting of all, noble manipulates depth and surface, her black and white projections distort perspective so that one is forced to surrender oneself entirely to a bewildering encounter of actual, cinematic, pictorial and theatrical space until it is difficult to know where each begins and ends. this is compounded by noble’s multiple entrances and exits, the slamming of doors and the echo of her heavy bow-legged footfall.

self-reflexively, noble is unafraid of stopping and starting scene within scene, bookending each with heavy black scribbling, the screwing up of paper,  a direct apology to the audience, a tearing up of supports or even conflagration.

fleur elise noble

'two dimensional life of her'

february 17-21

new performance festival

aotea centre, auckland 

too much like hard work (or office poetics)

let’s work this through. let’s work it out.

as workers not dreamers, businessmen and entrepreneurs serving the economy, mark harvey and johannes blomqvist try to be productive with their bodies. sacrificing themselves in order to create a sell-able, compelling and entertaining product for their audience they posit themselves as artists who provide a creative service.

politely choreographing their audience members, harvey and blomqvist directed the systematic erection and removal of tables and chairs as well as the mass creation of confetti via a method of punching holes from paper programmes. jolly and carnivalesque, the entire evening had the feeling of a deranged corporate team-building event and this was heightened by its location within a conference room.

deftly manipulating the materiality of the office as props, harvey and blomqvist work with tables, chairs, plastic cups, swipe cards, hole-punches, piles of paper… the relentless gathering, meeting and dispersal of colleagues was enacted, a quotidian waltz to be iterated within organisations throughout the world ad infinitum. there is the exchange of personal and professional information, sometimes under duress. there is bone-chilling air-conditioning, there is relentless fluorescent lighting. there are also exuberant and surprising moments of poetry such as softly-falling snow wrested from paper confetti and the sound of thousands of white plastic cups tumbling to the floor.

the daily demands and pressures of working as an artist were made explicit and physical. a risky business, a sisyphean labour, working under immense pressure to maintain a viable practice as a performance artist is compared to repeatedly running backwards around a large pillar, trying to crawl across a busy room with a rotund swede lying on your back, being literally buried under a mountain of paper or remaining strong as a co-worker stacks scores of chairs upon your back with packing tape. the only respite is a well-earned coffee break courtesy of blomqvist who explains the etiquette of such rituals in sweden. this ceremony starts off as cheery and then becomes manic.

a lot of exertion was involved. there were sweat-soaked business shirts. harvey and blomqvist work very hard. they deserve a round of applause.

 mark harvey and johannes blomqvist

"i am a wee bit stumped"

february 18

new performance festival

aotea centre, auckland