- Venue
- 20 Hoxton Square
- Location
The atmosphere in the main soace is very different to that of the previous
show at 20 Hoxton Square, devoted to the work of Jaap de Vries. Where
de Vries’ work made of the space a menacing landscape of dull metal and
dark forests, that of Jehad Nga creates a quiet sanctum of figures
emerging from dark backgrounds. But behind a curtain, one of de Vries’
figures remains, waiting in frozen mania outside the toilet. No amount of
viewings can make this squatting black mascot familiar.
It was an interesting decision for 20HS to move from
the ‘inconvenient beauty of pollution’ tack of de Vries to Nga’s glossy
photography of Somalian and Kenyan citizens, Medecins Sans Frontieres
donation forms and all. And the first impression is that here the gallery is
not playing to its strengths. Particularly in this variety of single light-source
photography, which relies on a pristine field of darkness, the speckled
prints and streaky frames (improved prints are said to be on their way) are
a great hindrance, while the row of bright lights along the centre of room
are a further distraction. Keeping the gallery black is part of the gallery’s
character, but with it lighting becomes crucial.
But at the right distance, Nga’s photography still has a strange,
ghostly magic. Nga’s press release statement about his interest in people,
not places, leads one to imagine classic humanist photojournalism, which
couldn’t be further from the truth. His subjects wander around the frame-
the light may pick up a young man’s t-shirt and the metal cup he holds in his
hand, but not his face. In another, two women, hunched, make their way
across the field of darkness. I was reminded of Anthony Gormley’s Blind
Light installation, only inverted. What stand out are not the personages, but
the beautiful colours that Nga emphasises. The result is that we our gaze
falls upon his faces almost secondarily, repaying close attention.
Anyone missing the grime of de Vries’ works will be pleased
that the basement has lost none of it’s rough edges. For three days the
Welsh artist Andrew James Jones (also featured in the group show near
the gallery entrance) was holed up assembling his Rabelaisian taxonomy of
sexual configurations full of a despairing loneliness at their heart.
Atmosphere can be created, of course- the ‘over 18s only’ notice daubed
at the top of the stairs, the lights, the colours. But if you look closely, near
a hanging lighbulb, pipes protrude from the ceiling, and tiny spiders dart
around, spinning webs. It’s good to see this gallery broadening its horizons
to welcome Nga’s art whilst continuing to give wide exposure to its stable
of talented artists such as Jones.
