post Venice
'I'm beginning to wonder if I'm (slowly) becoming the (fine) artists I am meant to be'
'real objects make me happy'
'don't think work, feel it'
Perhaps it was the heat, perhaps it was the strange beauty of Venice, perhaps it was the sheer quantity of artwork but something happened to me and I allowed myself to be guided by what felt right. That's the only way I can describe it.
As a result I found myself completely absorbed by pavillions and exhbits that I might previoulsy have hurried through in search of 'projects'. Pages of dense postmodern analysis given on arrival at shows were politely handed back and if I couldn't see what I was looking at then it wasn't the show for me. It was a kind of act of faith. And I guess I had a kind of epiphany.
In the Gardini I was completely entranced with paintings that were – to me at least – about paint, in particular Herbert Brandl (Austria), Troels Worsel (Denmark) and Gehard Richter (Germany). I'd been looking forward to seeing Felix Gonzalez-Torres in the Amercian Pavilion, and though I think his work is brilliant, it felt like the wrong time and place for this show.
Kris Martin's My Private show (in a casino over St Marco and for three days only) and Jan Fabre both demonstrated the power of articulate, elegant and technically skillful sculpture to function aesthetically, culturally and politically.
Being in Venice for the opening weekend of the Biennale was an amazing experience – I learnt a hell of a lot about myself and who I am as an artist.
I like objects. I like materials. I make sculpture.
Back to the studio …..
