- Venue
- Dirty Square Gallery
- Location
- United Kingdom
So here we are again, at the end of Rivington Street. A rippling velvet drape covers the usual frame of the Dirty Square Gallery. Sitting across the road, waiting and waiting (I’m early) for people to come and then, suddenly: A cleaning van arrives and obscures the view. Perhaps the man is going to clean the space for the Private View guests? This is a happening, an unpredictable moment, for the new exhibition is called ‘Clean Square Gallery.’ Then just as the other guests begin to arrive the van drives off.
Then, nothing.
Then, nothing.
I look at my watch. I look at the crowd. Then Joe Stevens, the artist walks up to the drape and grandly sweeps it from the wall.
Underneath? Underneath is a brand new frame. Gone is the old frame, gone is the dirt of Dirty Square Gallery. It’s a refurbishment. It’s tongue in cheek. The wall underneath is the same as before, with remnants of old works.
Stevens takes a pen from the side and signs and dates the work. He returns to the side and produces a pack of pens and offers them to the crowd.
The ‘Blue Plaque’ work from a previous exhibition remains in tact on the DSG wall, though it has been graffitied.
The crowd write and draw; me a duck. Someone else a penis. Someone writes, ‘Dave always wins.’ There is a buzz; a communal spirit. People on the streets join in. Is this what it means to engage with relational art?
Someone else says to me: ‘It’s very good. Appropriate for the space and the street.’ But how and why? Because our return to basics, the minimalism of the clean and new already foresees the coming graffiti, so we add it now. The people in the street are integral to the area, to the vibe and feel and so why not the work? It engages not just those here for the Private View.
I paraphrase a conversation? The burning issue: ‘What happened to the frame?’
A shrug. ‘And is it legal? Who owns the frame and who owns the wall? What if the police turn up?’
These are the questions that Clean Square Gallery addresses. In a nutshell. Questions I don’t know the answer to. And that’s the point.
