As is often the case, I have already written and lost this and so feel disinclined to go on. We are sitting in Starbucks next to what Annabel describes as a couple of vacuous bimbos and I am trying to remember the gems I wrote earlier. Last night we watched part three of Matthew Barney’s Cremaster and enjoyed watching him being ultra macho in a pink kilt. I was amazed at his power, not his muscles but rather the fact he got the Guggenheim to clear it’s walls and Richard Serra to shovel hot wax (though he did seem to be enjoying it). When I last visited the very same gallery it was also closed, but for cleaning not tap dancing lamby girls. All we could do was crane our necks to the skylight with the other disappointed pilgrims. We also heard that we had both got into Kerry Baldry’s “One Minute volume 5” which will start it’s world tour at Aid & Abet
In July. We will probably be there, on stage, with a large bubble bath and a Bengal cat.
Archives
I apologise for the non functioning video on the previous post. It wasn’t a video anyway, merely music. Perhaps this is why You Tube could not cope with it, or more likely I use the wrong codec. I arrived today (after a long day) on the Artists Talking homepage to see myself described as a “long-term serial-blogger”. I can’t quite put my finger on it but this term worries me. www.a-n.co.uk/p/1266399
As if to confirm that there is no such thing as a reformed blogger. I am at it again, lurking in the shadows of the internet. You are never more that ten feet from a blogger. The new blog hasn’t anything much on it yet, except a very exciting picture but if you want to follow it please sign up.
I may just copy posts from old blogs at random.
My long day was spent in London setting up for “The Man Who Fell to Earth” info here
The opening is on the 9th June at 6, please come. Alex Gene Morrison’s painting smells lovely.
Here is the blurb
Jens Hills, Penthouse (Unit 40), SoDa Studios 0786 606 3663
open Saturdays 12-6pm or by appointment
Private view: Thursday 9 June 6-9pm
Monika Bobinska is pleased to present the first of two group exhibitons at Jens Hills London.
The shows will utilise the interior and exterior spaces of the distinctive 8th floor penthouse at SoDa Studios, with its panoramic views extending over the city.
The Man Who Fell to Earth explores the ‘otherworldly’, against a backdrop of new and post modernisms, the discourses of science fiction and the realities of global events.
Alex Gene Morrison’s nuanced paintings employ a highly personalised language to engage with a universal cosmology, whilst referencing retro-futuristic science fiction cinema and the lofty ideals of suprematism.
Adam King’s collages and assemblages compose new worlds which speak of cultural myth and invented narratives, and pastoral traditions in the context of an urban consumerist culture.
Jost Münster’s two and three dimensional works inhabit a fragile territory between abstraction and figuration, the observed and the imagined. A delicate use of colour, and a subtle ordering of forms and materials is combined with an ongoing engagement with the material world and its dynamics.
Alex Pearl’s humorous works typically convey a sense of the improvised, the accidental, eternally on the brink of failure or collapse. His recent sculptures, ‘DIY apocalypses’ created from expanding builders’ foam, seem to have an unruly, malevolent life of their own.
Karen Seapker’s figurative paintings combine dynamic brush strokes with a deft use of colour and black-and-white, her language of visual slippage suggesting both nostalgia and a sense of the unsettling distance between memory and fact.
For more information, please contact Monika Bobinska on 0786 606 3663 or [email protected]
NEXT EXHIBITION – Savernake: the spirit of the place 2-31 July 2011
Last night I discovered I had made a fundamental error. As I attempted to move the blob from its basement home, I soon realised that although I had measured it carefully to fit its new penthouse accomodation in Haggerston, I had not taken into account the size of the door onto the stairs. It was not long before I had wedged it firmly in this opening. In retrospect it was probably a rather amusing sight to see me punching and kicking a large bubblewrapped blob with “Fragile” marked clearly all over it. Eventually I managed to squeeze it back into the studio, through a rear window, drag it over the brambles in the back garden and into the garage. I asked the driver to be very careful with it when he arrived this morning.
Meanwhile in my now much more spacious lair I am continuing to work on small treasures for the upcoming Monte Cristo chapters in London and Folkestone. This morning in the tradition of the Aeolian (sic?) harp I invented a wave powered music machine. Its sound was much improved once I had dropped it a couple of times.
I have wrapped the blob in every scrap of bubblewrap that could be found in the house. This was not an inconsiderable amount but only barely sufficed. Then I wrapped the bubblewrap in a reel of parcel tape emblazoned with the word FRAGILE in large red letters. This will no doubt mark it out as a suitable object to be sat upon or used in a Bernard Matthews style kickabout. The van arrives next Friday. The basement now resembles a little sculpture sweatshop as I desperately try to churn out enough work for both the London and Folkestone shows. I have taken to bunging everything online on a free, naff but very easy to use website called Zapd.
I was planning a long rambling post about things but I’ve just had a request to write a statement. must go…
The Count of Monte Cristo rambles on like a huge nineteenth century novel. The beautifully hung show at Exeter Phoenix (part two) is still up and has been reviewed on this site by Gabrielle Hoad www.a-n.co.uk/p/1219112. In Manchester, somewhere on the 4th? floor of an artist occupied mill, part three may or may not be still on the wall. It was featured in the Guardian Guide though I believe it would be an adventurous nay swashbuckling gallery goer that managed to view it after the busy opening night.
Three new chapters approach. In Limerick a warehouse like space awaits The Count of Monte Cristo – The Lions Den, in Folkestone a small shop window will host The Count of Monte Cristo – Smugglers and a frankly enormous church in London will be host to (you guessed it) The Count of Monte Cristo (the subtitle escapes me) The regular reader will know that this sort of lineup would usually give me a serious case of indigestion. However, this is not the case and, I am not sure why.
At home a large foam excrescence continues to grow in my basement. A van should be arriving to take it away at the end of the month by which time it will probably not fit through the door.