Frank Bowling at Tate Britain (avoiding all extra puns)

A report on Frank Bowling's work at Tate Britain

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2019 (17 to 24 October)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)

12 July

A report on visiting the retrospective of Frank Bowling's work at Tate Britain on Friday 12 July

#FrankBowling didn't do it for #UCFF, at @Tate Britain, but reminded of great shows at Tate Modern by such as Cy Twombly or Arshile Gorky : Bowling's do not repay in such manner an intent, searching and patient regard

— THE AGENT APSLEY #ScrapUniversalCredit #JC4PM2019 (@THEAGENTAPSLEY) July 13, 2019

The retrospective exhibition at Tate Britain is keen to stress (Room 1, room-note) that Frank Bowling was at art school with Kitaj and Hockney, but it does not seem even convincingly curated (since, in Room 1, two swan-paintings are said to show influence from Bridget Riley, whereas a painting in Room 2 makes even more clear that the reference is Victor Vasarely):

Or, rather, is it that the art is, if not over-dependent on explication and an explanation of its place in the other things that occupied Bowling at the time, then probably - certainly for the first half of the show (Rooms 1 to 5) – then not strong or striking enough, so that those curating the show find themselves invited to give that level of information ? In other words, with a strong painting by Hockney, does it not speak for itself, and so one is not going to talk unnecessarily on its behalf ?

It is not exactly that one looks at a canvas of Bowling's and says 'So what ?', but almost not short of it, in that (everything else being equal, such as price, where it would hang, etc.) it is wise to apply a rule to the possibility of acquiring a work of art, which is that, whatever it says now, will it continue to have things to say when hung elsewhere and lived with ? : if the answer is that it is unlikely to continue to speak to the purchaser, then one might as well gather the initial or even superficial import now, and move on.

Simply put, in this case, it is not until Room 6 that anything compels one to prolong one's look, because - aside from what has been sometimes screen-printed into the fabric as detail - the work has principally uttered, and one would just be accumulating personal / biographical material. Or Bowling's poured paintings, which seem to compel no more than Damien Hirst's 'turntable' paintings, so a single look suffices : one looks longer, but finds / sees no more than at first. By contrast, #UCFF lived in the Gorky exhibition at Tate Modern for its last three days (a weekend that had been extended by the final day being a Bank Holiday) :

Not to say that Gorky's canvases are typical, or that Bowling stands per se to be judged for not being Gorky (since, in plenty of other ways, many artists are not a Gorky), but they in no way offered themselves up to an initial look, and each insight that was gained had the potential to send one on or back one or two Rooms to follow up the connections. Of course, Gorky is an extreme counter-example to Bowling, as exemplified by Rooms 1 to 5 at Tate Britain, but one can still ask what there is that actually arrests the eye here.

Didn’t know much about #FrankBowling until my visit to @Tate today. Loving his beautiful, detailed, textured, painterly surfaces. “It is clear to me that making things is influenced by my mother... She had magic fingers, whatever she touched... marvellous magic.” pic.twitter.com/CxKkZRBZJG

— Rachel Moss (@particip8tion) July 9, 2019

From Room 6 onwards, and certainly by Room 7, the allusive quality is no longer a famous resemblance to Francis Bacon or to what may have been ghosted in with screen-printing, but to the nature and character of the picture-plane itself and, say, one perceives the watery quality of The Thames in a tessellated way.

Great Thames IV (1988-1989)

If you want to Tweet, Tweet away here

Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Interview with Gerry Fox and Marc Quinn about Marc Quinn : Making Waves (2014)

Interview with director Gerry Fox and artist / subject Marc Quinn* about Marc Quinn : Making Waves (2014)

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2015 (3 to 13 September)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)

Interview with director Gerry Fox and artist / subject Marc Quinn* about Marc Quinn : Making Waves (2014) on Thursday 23 July 2015 at The Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge (@CamPicturehouse)

The Agent Apsley :
So, I’m here [on the mezzanine at The Arts Picturehouse (@CamPicturehouse)] with Gerry Fox. We’re going to talk about, um, Mark Quinn : Making Waves – they’re just watching the end of the film at the moment, and Marc is going to join us for a few questions at the end.

Uh, Gerry, so how did, um – I know, and I saw, and I watched your South Bank Show, um, programme with Marc. (Gerry assents) Very, very different.

Gerry Fox :
Completely.

The Agent Apsley :
In style.

Gerry Fox :
Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
Was that, sort of, the sort of Melvyn Braggery of the time, that the artist is a, sort of (Brief pause) performer ? Or was that from you ?

Gerry Fox :
No, that was from me. That was the only time that the South Bank Show ever went that far in terms of allowing a director to collaborate with an artist, to create an almost stylized art-film.

The Agent Apsley :
Yeah.

Gerry Fox :
Very out of the ordinary on the South Bank Show, that kind of film, and was, by their standards—

The Agent Apsley :
But there were always, sort of, hints of it, weren’t there ?

Gerry Fox :
Yes, abolutely. So, in that one – I’d done it with Gilbert and George, I’d done that kind of collaborative thing with other artists, uh, Christian Boltanski – people like that, who could play with you. The thing with Marc was to try and make the whole thing a journey (Slight pause) through the, the subconscious.

The Agent Apsley :
And the, sort of, this medico—

Gerry Fox :
Yes, all set in hospitals. Well, that’s because there was that underlying thing in his work…

The Agent Apsley :
How did that work, how did you get access to the hospital ?

Gerry Fox :
It was an old, it was an old, abandoned hospital – when we got hold of it, yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
But, of course, you also, with the Young British Artists, you also associate Damien Hirst with…

Gerry Fox :
Yes. Medical, and death, all that. Exactly. Yeah, they both play with a lot of those ideas.

The Agent Apsley :
And there’s, sort of, Ken Russellish feel a bit… ?

Gerry Fox :
Yes, absolutely – it was very much out of that tradition (The Agent assents) of the arts, the arts programme, but taking it to its absolute limits (The Agent assents) : very stylized.

The Agent Apsley :
OK, so I watched that, and there’s a lot of resource on Marc’s web-site (Gerry assents) which I’m grateful for. (Pause) Um, but turning to this film, it’s, it’s obvious from one shot – I think that it’s the one in the gym – that… you’re… filming – is it a digital SLR that you were using… ?

Gerry Fox :
Yeah, a Canon 5D camera.

The Agent Apsley :
So, the same camera that Marc— ?

Gerry Fox :
Yes, uses himself – exactly.

The Agent Apsley :
So, was that what you shot on throughout ?

Gerry Fox :
Yes.

The Agent Apsley :
Because it seems to have a lot of manoeuvrability.

Gerry Fox :
Yes, I mean, I – what I realized with that camera was, was two things : one, it does have the ability to give you that lovely, shallow depth of field, so you get a very nice quality of image, and – that was the first thing – and the second thing was that, because it looks like a camera (because it is a camera), you become much more unobtrusive, and so you can get a much more intimate style, because a lot of people think that you’re actually just taking pictures.

The Agent Apsley :
Yeah.

Gerry Fox :
And, in fact, you’re filming.

The Agent Apsley :
Yeah.

Gerry Fox :
So, it revolutionized what you can do, which is what allowed this film to happen.

The Agent Apsley :
And, even, I mean, with the – at the San Giorgio exhibition, with you, sort of (The Agent puffs) unfortunately clouting the curator on the head…

Gerry Fox :
Yeah, yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
I mean, we had that, sort of, unnecessary level of intimacy.

Gerry Fox :
Yeah, well, it was an accident – I didn’t mean to…

The Agent Apsley :
And, in the Q&A, we’re going to go into, sort of, some of the aspects of the style of the film. (Gerry hums) And, if it’s OK with you two (Marc Quinn has joined us), what I want to do is to make a clear… division – because I think that it’s helpful with documentaries (which is what I specialize in, um, doing Q&As for) – it’s helpful to distinguish between the making and the content.

Gerry Fox :
Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
So, I’m going to ask people to focus on the making – I mean, the fact that it’s an artefact – and I hope that that, sort of, figures with your, your sort of artistic practice…, Marc. To, to, to, to…

Marc Quinn :
I don’t know what you mean…

The Agent Apsley :
Well, to remember – well, um, I’ll go into it in more detail in the Q&A.

Gerry Fox :
Bring it up in the Q&A !

The Agent Apsley :
Um (Pause). So, what advantages, other than the ones you mentioned, would you say that there are to using an SLR like that – but what disadvantages are there ?

Gerry Fox :
Well, the advantages are the obvious ones that I’ve explained – that you have an intimacy, you’re more unobtrusive, and you can just go with the flow, and I could also – didn’t have to have a whole crew, following me around, and it meant that you didn’t have to do whole days of filming.

The Agent Apsley :
Yes.

Gerry Fox :
You could do half a day here, a half a day there, when things that were interesting were happening.

The Agent Apsley :
Yeah.

Gerry Fox :
The disadvantages were, were, were technical : that it’s quite a hard camera to operate on your own. It’s also, um, you know, batteries would run out at a key moment, memory-cards would suddenly be full at the wrong one. You also have a microphone switch, you know, often, you know, you’d end up that you’ve forgotten to turn it on… (The Agent laughs) Um, you know, it’s all the technical things that you normally have a soundman who’s concentrating on it, and a cameraman…

The Agent Apsley :
You’ve got to do it all !

Gerry Fox :
And you’ve got to do the interviewing ! You’ve got to do everything. So, those are the disadvantages.

The Agent Apsley :
So keeping your wits – did you—?

Gerry Fox :
You had to keep your wits about you.

The Agent Apsley :
Did you have a sort of check-list of, or would that… ?

Gerry Fox :
In my head, (Agent assents) I would start thinking, Have you turned the mike on, have you done this, have you done this ? So you had to, sort of, think Crikey, I’m the cameraman, the sound-man, and I’m the, the, the director, and the interviewer (Laughs), you know, so it was, it was..., but you get used to it.

The Agent Apsley :
Sure. So did… ? (Pause) We’ve mentioned the Melvyn Bragg (Gerry assents) South Bank Show—

Gerry Fox :
That was the start of a friendship…

The Agent Apsley :
That was the start of the friendship ?

Gerry Fox :
Yes, because we spent so much time making that film—

The Agent Apsley :
So, were you introduced… to each other, or how did you come…?

Gerry Fox :
We met, uh, er, on another South Bank Show – which you can watch, if you want – it was, which was a fifteen-minuter, which was made with a young director, but which I was very involved as a producer, and all that. With Marc, a few years before that…

The Agent Apsley :
Yes.

Gerry Fox :
When he’d famously made a head, a shit-head.

The Agent Apsley :
Yes !

Gerry Fox :
And it became quite a legendary think on television, nobody’d ever seen that before, so it was quite shocking – and that was the start, and then that’s how we first met, and then the idea was to do this, the one that we did, and then, then we, we, we became friends, and so… (Pause) So, that was why he [Marc] allowed me to do this film, because I don’t think that he would have done it with anybody….

The Agent Apsley :
At the time of the, of the acquisition of the previous blood-head, as they are sometimes seem to be called – the Self, from, uh, 2001, I think that it was – by the National Portrait Gallery, that, the shit-head, was being talked about in that interview (Gerry assents) with Tim Marlow…

Gerry Fox :
Oh, yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
Which I listened to on… Marc’s web-site (Gerry assents). So, um. (Pause) So, you’ve been friends, then, for fifteen-odd years… ?

Gerry Fox :
Yes. Yeah, we’ve gone on holiday, we’ve done a lot of stuff together—

The Agent Apsley :
‘Cause, I mean, I remember talking to—

Gerry Fox :
Which is unusual, ‘cause I haven’t actually, uh, you know, I haven’t, you know, all these years – twenty years – I made South Bank Shows and films for Channel 4 and so on, but very rare that you became friends with the people whom you made films about.

You tended to move on – the thing that had gelled you together has gone, and your lives separated – largely because they were mostly older than me. Marc was one of the few people whom I made who was contemporary to me (The Agent assents), so, you know, that—

The Agent Apsley :
Well, one of the things that I’m going to… dwell on more in the Q&A is that it feels a bit like a, sort of, buddy movie…

Gerry Fox :
A little bit. We wanted it to be a bit of a buddy movie…

The Agent Apsley :
Yeah.

Gerry Fox :
I think that we, we felt that what we wanted to do is to make it a little entertaining, kind of – you know, rock-and-roll, buddy movie, travelling around the world, seeing what, what the artist, the rock-and-roll artist does… for a living.

The Agent Apsley :
Yep. (Slight pause) And now, I’ve reminded myself : I completely forgot, in my intro, to tell them that they were going to hear the word ‘cunt’, so they will have heard the word ‘cunt’ by now, but, never mind, I’m sure that they…

Gerry Fox :
Sure. (Slight pause) We’ll, we’ll apologize.

The Agent Apsley :
They can cope with a Thursday-evening… (Quick internal check on when the film is due to end running)

Gerry Fox :
You can always grab me afterwards for a few more. (Calls for Marc) Anything else you want to ask me ? (No response from Marc) You can always ask me a few more… (Pause) Why don’t you record everything in the Q&A, as well, because that’ll… ?

The Agent Apsley :
I’ll try to, yeah. Um (Long pause), one thing towards the end of the film, we’ve got that moment where Marc’s splattering the canvas, and gets your shoe – and it’s a very human re—, ‘You cunt !’.

Gerry Fox :
Yeah, sorry – as you know, as I said to you, I should…

The Agent Apsley :
We talked about it…

Gerry Fox :
I should have bleeped it out.

The Agent Apsley :
Um, but it’s at that point in the film, those last ten minutes, where you seem to get to some gritty questions…

Gerry Fox :
Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
About do people expect (Gerry assents) the artist’s hands (Gerry assents) to be on it… ?

Gerry Fox :
Yeah. Yeah, maybe one left it too late ?

The Agent Apsley :
Was… Were those things that you’d explored before, in your friendship, or were they – were you being a bit devil’s advocate, with those… ?

Gerry Fox :
No, I think that what happened was, you know, I’d made the film I was making, and I wanted it, really – in the early parts—

The Agent Apsley :
Were you searching for… ?

Gerry Fox :
Being provocateurish, and, sort of, teasing him (The Agent assents), and being a bit cheeky, because I wasn’t really sure… where this film was going (The Agent assents), and what I…

The Agent Apsley :
You were looking for an ending… ?

Gerry Fox :
Exactly, but then, in the middle of it, it settled down to be more of a, an, an observational film (The Agent assents), in a way – watching the artist. But, towards the end, I realized that there were questions that people would want to ask – you know, the ‘hand of the artist’ issue – you could see him, with all these different people who, who were, were making the stuff, you know, these fabricators, and people might want to know ‘Why doesn’t he… ?’, you know. So that seemed like an obvious thing, to, to delve into, so those questions came up towards the end of the film, and, um, felt like they needed, um, some answering. So that was…

The Agent Apsley :
So, that’s where they found their natural place ?

Gerry Fox :
Yeah. I think so, and I think also that it’s better by the end, because, if he’d felt (Marc is with us now) that I was sort of becoming this challenging guy throughout the film, he might have actually called quits on it…

The Agent Apsley :
(Loudly) H’mm…

Gerry Fox :
I think that you have to be quite careful, if you are, you know, spending a year—

The Agent Apsley :
(To Marc) Did, did you feel that ? Did you feel that, Marc, that there was… ?

Marc Quinn :
Well, I mean, if it – I knew that it would be more of a collaboration…

The Agent Apsley :
Yeah.

Marc Quinn :
That we were both wanting the same thing, something interesting and new and different. If it had been, like, Gerry asking me some questions all the time… (Inaudible)

Gerry Fox :
Yeah, yeah, he may well have called it quits on it (The Agent assents), because, actually, why do you want that… ?

The Agent Apsley :
Good, good, good call, on your part, then ?

Gerry Fox :
Yeah, I think so – and I think that you sense it…

The Agent Apsley :
Yes.

Gerry Fox :
You sense it. So, I’m near the end, now (The Agent assents), and he knows he’s done it…

The Agent Apsley :
It feels…

Gerry Fox :
You can actually hit it—

The Agent Apsley :
‘Cause, actually, you’re on the street in… – I can’t remember where it is, ‘cause, you know, you probably have a better sense of the chronology, except that your busy lives – well, God knows… Ah ! But is it on the street in Istanbul (Gerry assents), you’re saying, ‘We’ve done the twelve months’ (Gerry assents), we’ve—

Gerry Fox :
And then, in fact, there’s quite a bit more !

The Agent Apsley :
Yeah.

Gerry Fox :
‘Cause what we realized was that some other things were opening up, so it wasn’t quite the end, but it felt like it, towards it. In fact, I think that it was after that I realized we were there, then I could ask a few, few questions.

The Agent Apsley :
Just moving that (Shifting the recorder), so that we can pick up Marc’s voice a bit better. (Further check on the end-time of the film) So, Marc, were you a sort of typical Oxbridge entrant [Quinn read History of Art, at Robinson College, University of Cambridge], pretty good all-rounder (Pause), um… ?

Marc Quinn :
I mean, I was interested in art. I came here, because (The Agent assents) I was at school (The Agent assents), did the entrance exams, and kinda got in…

The Agent Apsley :
Oh, you got in on the entrance ? – because you could still – I mean, it’s gone in and out of fashion with that. OK, um, so, the ‘A’ level results, then, were not relevant ? What ‘A’ levels did you take, though ?

Marc Quinn :
I can’t remember…

The Agent Apsley :
No. (Brief pause) But you’ve got this sort of science-y (Marc assents), you’ve got a facility with the machinery, the technology (Marc assents), yeah. (Long pause) Um (Slight pause), and then you end up with this route to where you are now through working with… Barry Flanagan ?

Marc Quinn :
Not really : I just said to Gerry earlier (The Agent assents), me working with Barry was… like the University of Drinking, rather than…

The Agent Apsley :
Was it really ?

Marc Quinn :
Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
So there was… ? You wouldn’t say that there was really anything from his artistic practice that… ?

Marc Quinn :
Not really, but then, I guess, it was an introduction to ‘the art world’ (The Agent assents), because I didn’t know the art world, I didn’t know living… artists existed.

The Agent Apsley :
Huh hum.

Marc Quinn :
You know, that you could actually become an artist…, earning a living…

The Agent Apsley :
So you weren’t seeking that… ?

Marc Quinn :
I was, but I, I didn’t know it – I didn’t know anything about it.

The Agent Apsley :
Sure. OK. (Brief pause) Um, so not even your, sort of – putting it in the context of – I mean, I don’t know what, how the History of Art course goes, whether you specialize in…

Marc Quinn :
Yeah. That was really interesting, obviously.

The Agent Apsley :
Yeah. So, but you could have seen through other people’s…, um, artistic careers, in other periods… ?

Marc Quinn :
Yeah, oh yeah, no, but what I’m saying is that I… wasn’t… in… the art world, at the time when I was here.

The Agent Apsley :
No, OK. (Brief pause) Yep. But, I mean, art was something that you practised… ?

Marc Quinn :
Yeah. I wanted to be an artist…

The Agent Apsley :
Yeah. (Brief pause) OK, so, it’s, it’s typically said about you that Self, the first one (the 1991… piece [A mould of Quinn’s head, filled with around eight pints of his blood, frozen]), is the one, rightly or wrongly, that first attracted attention, to you.

Marc Quinn :
Yeah, I think that that’s probably true.

The Agent Apsley :
Yeah. (Pause) And… it seems, as I’ve, sort of, touched on already, there, there seems to be a significant element of technical challenge in what you do ?

Marc Quinn :
There’s quite a lot of it, yeah – well, I’m using technology.

The Agent Apsley :
Do you know which comes first ? I mean, does the challenge come out of the nature of the work that you want to do ?

Marc Quinn :
(Quietly) I think so…

The Agent Apsley :
Or do you, sort of, seek it out – do you… ?

Marc Quinn :
No, I think that it’s, kind of, a mixture of the two – I’m not really sure…

The Agent Apsley :
Right, OK. And… with Self, with its, sort of, different iterations – um, I listened to the whole, um, interview with Tim Marlow, which was very interesting…

Marc Quinn :
Oh, yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
About, uh, the whole Charles Saatchi (Marc Quinn assents) and how that had blown up about [The story that the sculpture had somehow got unplugged and melted]…, but, I mean – as you (Long pause) worked on… a… new… version of Self… ?

Marc Quinn :
Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
Have there been things that have changed in your way of doing it ?

Marc Quinn :
Well, I think that the technology’s got better.

The Agent Apsley :
So, you… ?

Marc Quinn :
The actual freezers are… (The Agent assents) better, you know. The work is all of those pieces together.

The Agent Apsley :
OK. Um, so we’d better go into the Q&A…. (Discussion about when the film is due to end) Um (Longer pause), there’s a point, um – I was saying to Gerry that there’s this, this, this about the, sort of, moment when he (Pause) perhaps challenges a bit more, and asks some of the questions –

Marc Quinn :
(Quietly) I don’t think it’s a challenge, really – he just asks me questions, which I’m very happy to answer.

The Agent Apsley :
But more so than, I mean—

Gerry Fox :
More so than earlier !

The Agent Apsley :
One doesn’t know, know exactly what you’ve filmed—

Gerry Fox :
No, you’re right – where you’re filming…

The Agent Apsley :
Which is where I come back to this idea of, sort of, um, the idea of content… against the making – we never know what you don’t show us, because…

Gerry Fox :
Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
We may guess at it—

Gerry Fox :
That’s true…

Marc Quinn :
You work from what you see on the screen, ‘cause, as you say, you can’t know what’s…

The Agent Apsley :
(Definitely) No.

Marc Quinn :
What’s cut out – I can’t remember what was cut out.

Gerry Fox :
No. Loads of things – huge amounts.

Marc Quinn :
Once you have a finished film…

Gerry Fox :
Huge amounts, obviously, inevitably, you have to – but, basically, um, you know, as I said, I didn’t really want – I didn’t really want to be this kind of interviewer, a sort of a Yentob or a Bragg kind of person, asking him questions : it was supposed to be more of a film. But I just felt, towards the end, that there were some unanswered things that we wanted to draw out, and we didn’t want the audience left going ‘Well, why didn’t he answer that ?’.

The Agent Apsley :
But, I mean, actually, with that Tim Marlow interview… – it’s quite a long interview, and then you’ve got some, maybe more, maybe less, informed questions from the audience.

Marc Quinn :
Yes. (Brief pause) When was this… ?

The Agent Apsley :
Ooh, it was at the time that you made – it’s the time of the acquisition by the [National] Portrait Gallery…

Marc Quinn :
Oh, yeah. OK.

The Agent Apsley :
Um, so, I mean, there’s quite a lot of questioning there, but is that not something that you would normally… go in for… ?

Marc Quinn :
Uh ? What do you mean ?

The Agent Apsley :
Quite a lot of…

Marc Quinn :
Questions.

The Agent Apsley :
Questions on questions. (Marc Quinn assents)

Marc Quinn :
From who ?

The Agent Apsley :
Well, from…

Marc Quinn :
I don’t normally hang out, like at… – I mean, I’m happy to answer questions from people.

The Agent Apsley :
Well, I mean, one of the nice things about the film – and, again, we’ll never quite know, because that’s between Gerry and you and the camera – one of the nice aspects of the film is… hearing you talk about your work.

Marc Quinn :
Yeah – I think…

Gerry Fox :
In an informal way…

The Agent Apsley :
In an informal way.

Gerry Fox :
Which, I think, is more interesting than…

The Agent Apsley :
(Overlapping) And we start on the seashore…

Marc Quinn :
A head to head… Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
And we come back to the seashore…

Marc Quinn :
Exactly. Yeah – I was thinking that…

The Agent Apsley :
And then you, I mean – I came, I went down to White Cube and (Marc assents) saw… the show there, which was great…

Marc Quinn :
Great, yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
And that middle chamber, with that just one (Marc assents) huge [The shape of a shell, scaled up many times – to be at least eight to ten feet long]…

Courtesy of The White Cube, Bermondsey, from The Toxic Sublime

Marc Quinn :
Well, you saw me in the show, in the film, picking up the thing.

The Agent Apsley :
Yes.

Marc Quinn :
And it’s that big, and then it becomes that—

Gerry Fox :
Vast sculpture !

Marc Quinn :
Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
I mean, that must be pretty exciting ?

Marc Quinn :
Yes, it’s really exciting. (Pause) Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
And is it – that’s what keeps you, keeps you going with art ?

Marc Quinn :
Yes, to go from, just… walking along, picking up something, and thinking about it, and then having the ability… to, just, actually make it happen, it’s, kind of, quite [magical ?]…

The Agent Apsley :
Gerry’s just picked up, um, that film, which is Gerhard Richter : Painting—

Marc Quinn :
Did Gerry make it ?

Gerry Fox :
No, not the one I made.

The Agent Apsley :
Um, but what, what reminded me of that film (and I looked out a copy, (Marc Quinn assents) ‘cause, if you haven’t seen it, I’m happy to let you borrow it) (Marc assents) um, it’s an attempt to… catch him… at his work (Marc assents), and, yet, it interferes with the process, and he – he, I mean, he’s famous for his squeegee—

Gerry Fox :
Well, and he keeps messing them up – it’s awful !

The Agent Apsley :
Yes.

Gerry Fox :
He ruins them all !

The Agent Apsley :
Yes.

Gerry Fox :
It’s quite sad…

Marc Quinn :
But isn’t that, kind of, what he does generally ?

Gerry Fox :
No, some of them are amazing !

Marc Quinn :
What I mean is, isn’t that— ?

The Agent Apsley :
It’s an aspect, it’s an aspect of the film…

Marc Quinn :
You say that the film altered his process, self-cosnciousness… ?

The Agent Apsley :
At the time, he had to say ‘I’ve agreed to this, but I can’t do it’.

Marc Quinn :
Oh, right.

The Agent Apsley :
And we have a little hint of that (Marc assents) with you, when you were doing the, the Mandela finger-print…

Marc Quinn :
Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
You said, ‘I was so busy talking to you (Meaning Gerry, in the film) I’ve fucked it up’.

Gerry Fox :
That’s where you messed it up, yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
So just, just that thing reminded me of it… But – um…

Gerry Fox :
I’ll tell you, though, what the difference is between this one and the one on Marc is that, even though it’s, it’s a portrait of him during it, you do get a sense of all the different things that he’s doing.

The Agent Apsley :
Yes.

Gerry Fox :
This (Indicating the DVD) just focuses in – I’m sure Richter – only on one aspect of his work, which is the abstracts, which actually, to be honest, when I made the film with him, were the least interesting to explore…

The Agent Apsley :
Yes.

Gerry Fox :
But the photographic work was actually much more interesting (Marc assents), um, so – and what’s nice in that film with Marc is that I think that you did get a sense, even though it wasn’t about his work, you get a sense of the huge range of work that he does…

The Agent Apsley :
And, well, and yes, you do. And, from the Tate show that was, perhaps, the following year from when that was released, the… from the early work (Gerry assents) to that, sort of, quite famous image with the woman with her… head turned away.

Gerry Fox :
(Quietly) His daughter.

The Agent Apsley :
And… it’s so finely… done… – such…

Gerry Fox :
(Quietly) Well, that’s a photo-painting.

The Agent Apsley :
Yeah. (Slight pause) But, as you say, very different from the abstract work on which the film focused ?

Gerry Fox :
Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
But, I mean, one thing that it also shows him [Meaning Richter] doing – and I whether this is an aspect of how, how (Turning to Marc) you prepare for shows – is, actually, with his, uh, the help of his assistants, having a little, um, almost like a doll’s house of the gallery (Marc assents) … with the miniature…

Marc Quinn :
(Quietly) Um, yeah, I do that as well.

The Agent Apsley :
Thumbnails… You do that as well ?

Marc Quinn :
Yeah. (Pause) It, it always changes when you get in the gallery.

The Agent Apsley :
But, you – that’s your, sort of, rough… plan…

Marc Quinn :
Yeah.

The Agent Apsley :
For the… ? (Slight pause) Yeah. (Pause) OK, so – let’s see…

Gerry Fox :
Do you want to head off, or… ?

The Agent Apsley :
Let’s see : shall we go into the end of the film, and then, sort of, be ready to go down the front… ?

Gerry Fox :
You can always get more stuff through that (Indicating the recorder), and… after…

The Agent Apsley :
Well, that’s, that’s great – thanks very much !


End-notes

* This posting is now linked to another, which acts as a portal to other interviews that have been published by TAKE ONE (@TakeOneCinema), including the edited version of this one, which appeared on www.takeonecff.com.

** The link to the film's IMDb (@IMDb) page is here, and to its page on Marc Quinn's marcquinn.com web-site (where the materials referred to in the interview can be found) here.


If you want to Tweet, Tweet away here

Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Gustav Metzger, Damien Hirst, and being a butcher

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2014 (28 August to 7 September)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)

18 August

The cinematic reference is : White Heat – or White Star ?

BelstonNight Works booked @THEAGENTAPSLEY as a delegate to White Heat, the Symposium on Gustav Metzger. See you ? http://t.co/eOgB1wdfyn
— THE AGENT APSLEY (@THEAGENTAPSLEY) July 10, 2014

At the end of it all, whatever the merits of Kettle’s Yard’s (@kettlesyard) Gustav Metzger retrospective Lift Off ! in Cambridge (which runs until 31 August 2014), is one just left with ideas of responsibility and redundancy, and with exhibits that could be reliably reproduced by anyone following the instructions / principles involved ?

Called in briefly at @kettlesyard for some of Gustav Metzger's traces of oscillating fibres, liquid crystal projections and a steam bubble !
— THE AGENT APSLEY (@THEAGENTAPSLEY) July 10, 2014

One wanted it to amount to more than The Science Museum in a gallery, but the overlap is really less than when, in his quest for understanding, Peter Diggs goes to look at Klein bottles in Amaryllis Night and Day (a novel by Russell Hoban*), and ends up meeting both the man who made them, and, much more, what they signify to him and his situation. Or, in another Hoban novel* (Angelica Lost and Found), an imaginary creature in the Orlando Furioso of Ariosto learns how, by travelling to a space of contradictory appearance, to become real and occupy human form – only to be haunted by art, and visit others with it, that unnervingly revisits that space.

Hoban (who died at 86 in December 2011) was full of life, and with an irrepressible interest in science and technology (as this writer touched upon in Russell Hoban at 80, a festschrift [http://hoban2005.co.uk/] from February 2005), so he could just as easily conceive of Jocasta as the organic computer Pythia, and invent interstellar voyaging by means of flickerdrive, which is based on the idea of what happens in all the spaces caused by the refresh-rate of the retinal image. This feels like a real meeting, a fusion of art and science.

The show at @kettlesyard is, as always free, and comprises : http://t.co/JOMKVXrcjx Plus, on site, one can usually enter Jim Ede's house
— THE AGENT APSLEY (@THEAGENTAPSLEY) July 10, 2014

In comparison, Metzger – not always easy to understand when he speaks nowadays – may have been talking about meeting The Who, how they wanted to do a benefit gig for his colleagues and him (but their management refused), and ending up doing a liquid-crystal light-show for a gig of theirs at The Roundhouse. However, it was in some obscure context, never curatorially explained, of having to be at The Central Criminal Court (The Old Bailey), and there was never any suggestion here of cross-fertilization between art and science – he did his things, they did theirs (almost a transaction**)

Kettle's Yard in Cambridge pic.twitter.com/mlmyLqqhDh
— Ian Thompson (@ianthompson) August 24, 2014

A note on so-called auto-creative art :

Put a primed canvas on an easel, line up a prepared palette and a selection of graphite, pencils, rags, brushes, solvents, water-jars, lock the room, and wait to see what happens…

Or set a process off (it could be a computer, generating fractal- diagrams, or liquid crystals that are being heated on a slide in front of a projector), and see what happens.

Both outcomes are predictable within certain limits, i.e. that the canvas remains as it is, or another piece that looks like a fractal-diagram is generated and the heated crystals distort into patterns that are projected, but there is no auto-creation. If there were, the canvas would be painted on, and one would not know what to expect of the program or the set-up with the crystals :

The exact patterns generated are not known beforehand, but they have not caused the process that gave rise to them (even if they did, via a feedback loop, that loop’s effect would have been envisaged and pre-ordained).


The show Lift Off ! is stochastic processes and applied physics, and, although some of the exposures of fibres moved around on photographic paper may be striking, it is essentially an aleatory method that can be repeated over and over, and one could fill the room with the things, but they largely resist having an artistic content. Dancing Tubes could just as well belong in a Health and Safety Commission training video about the dangers of releasing compressed air without controls, and any lab could set it up.

The scientific method says that an experiment should be capable of being reproduced, and these works can be by just having the notion of what is to be achieved and setting it up, which may even produce refinements or improvements. The idea seems temptingly close to the approach of Damien Hirst (except that he was the one who did first cut – or have cut – in half a formaldehyde-treated cow (and a calf)) and exhibit it (them) as art), and yet so far away, with his being across the line in art.

Not indisputably so, though, with works displaying concepts such as What Goes Up Must Come Down (1994)*** and Loving in a World of Desire (1996) (using the same essential technology), or, perhaps, the less-skilled spin paintings) but in terms of a body of work that is recognized as artistic. The Plexiglass, table-tennis ball and hair-dryer of the former differ from similar museum displays of the principle of keeping a ball in the air by explicitly being – or appearing to be – ready-made items, such that the hair-dryer coincidentally has the right amount of upthrust to keep the ball in motion (though its current may, of course, have been safely adapated to achieve this effect, by trial and error with resistors or the like, behind the scenes).

Hirst’s huge ashtray Crematorium (1996) (not his only repository for cigarette-butts), Roni Horn’s huge glass pieces (opaque, red, black, and one at least resembling an ashtray ?), take the artist into the hands of a manufacturer who will produce what the artist seeks, but the vision makes it more than any old order from a glassworks. There is even more artistry in generating a fractal diagram and giving it a colour-scheme than in most of these exhibits of Metzger’s :

Though some would sniff at fractals as art, but not hesitate to embrace Duchamp’s Fountain [http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/duchamp-fountain-t07573] (Tate Modern (@Tate) exhibits a replica in 1964) – there, the mistake is as to the real work of the piece, which was Duchamp’s gall and iconoclasm in submitting it to an exhibition at The Society of Independent Artists, not the urinal itself. A Museum of Curiosities seems a better place for what Metzger gives us, alongside automata, counting-engines, and elaborate orreries.

He created, after all, a significant art show in and using materials found around a brand new laboratory in Swansea : if that influenced anybody, then we need to know how and why, and that should be at the heart of curation. Instead, the rather unhelpful assumption is of an unannounced starting-point, and hence of shutting off discussion, to the effect that any distinction between art and science is arbitrary : yet the fact is that anything that can be depicted as a continuum has no point where something ceases and another begins does not render it meaningless to ask the question*** and to set limits (e.g. abortion and the medico-legal test of how many weeks old a foetus is).

However, the one-day conference Art, science and social responsibility in 1960s’ Britain largely took tangents from Metzger, and shied off, much of the time, from stating clearly why we should care about him now, whatever his approach was 50+ years ago, and not just forget about it as a by-way : Metzger, sadly in a wheel-chair, was ‘in the room’ literally (the aptly Zen Lecture Theatre 0), but he was rarely the topic.


A brief summary report on the conference – to come…

The best part of @kettlesyard's Gustav Metzger conference White Heat ? Tangentially, it was getting to chat to Robert M. Young at lunch.
— THE AGENT APSLEY (@THEAGENTAPSLEY) August 5, 2014

As to auto-destructive art, the Conference seemed to have assumed that what Metzger did in 1960 with a large pane of glass, a larger piece of nylon stretched across it and applying hydrochloric acid that neither the set-up, not the outcome needed to be described : the Tate (@Tate) has has done it for us.

Again, it is to be noted that the description of auto-destruction is simply wrong : the nylon clearly did not destroy itself, Metzger destroyed it by painting acid on it, otherwise, if I kill someone with a gun, I could call it as meaningfully self-shooting syndrome.


End-notes

* Respectively, Bloomsbury, London, 2001 and 2010.

** The allusion is to the play Shopping and Fucking by Mark Ravenhill.

*** One of Zeno’s paradoxes starts with a grain of millet, and adds one, and then another : when does it become a pile ? Blurring boundaries because of the in-between ground is as much a fallacy as the law of the excluded middle (where anything that is not X must be Y, whereas it could be Z, in that middle ground), and it ignores the obvious fact that two grains are not a pile, 20,000 grains are. A chemistry experiment is not a piece of art, and a work by Watteau is not science.




If you want to Tweet, Tweet away here

Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)