Getting Chilly After Hours

The extra-curricular work of 29 artists make up Jerwood’s current After Hours exhibition. Some solve designer-specific problems, some examine contemporary life, some are simply frivolous playthings; but all are examples of stunningly executed design.

I chatted about exhibition’s various props and wall hangings for One Stop Arts, and somehow forgot my favourite piece…maybe I was  just subconsciously saving it for this little corner of tinternet…?

Baltic Breeze is over eight minutes of film almost produced by Tom Jarrett using just an iPhone: sound edited; music composed, cut and added; titles overlaid; then film chopped and reorganised using iMovie. The definition is crisp, the sound clear as anything and the whole film achieves a contemplative, melancholic tone through careful editing and musical additions. With this level of technology now available in the palm of your hand, with a little practice and skill (and maybe a hint of talent too) we could all become filmmakers.

Enjoy!

Baltic Breeze // an iPhone 5 film from Tom Jarrett on Vimeo.

 

Friendly Inebriation and a Fine Education: Sipsmiths Gin Extravaganza

Last Thursday, my wonderful manfriend treated me to an evening of my favourite things – beautiful pubs, amazing food, history (oh yes), and most importantly gin!

Sipsmith have been running weekly tours of their gin distillery for a while now; however the Sipsmith Distillery Tour and Gin Palace Extravaganza which we embarked upon is a completely different bucket of booze – sure to have you gaily zigzagging home, arm in arm with a whole host of newly acquired friends.

We started out at the stunning Princess Victoria Gin Palace for a taste of Sipsmith’s Summer Cup, a fruity golden beverage very similar to another British favourite beginning with P… however, it foregoes squishy strawberries and browning apple pieces, for a fresh limey zing which won’t leave your teeth coated in sugar. After a couple of these, we trotted off to the dining room for a three-course meal laced with alcohol: vodka gazpacho, lavender and gin drizzled duck, and finally a little sphere of cucumber sorbet bobbing atop a posh gin jelly shot – which all the more inebriated men of the table enjoyed wibbling as much as eating.

The duck was utterly divine, surely the best duck I’ve ever tasted, especially in my state of gin-induced euphoria. I also highly approved of being allowed to eat a jelly shot and still retain my dignity (just), and will not rest until I’ve recreated that little green ball of sugary cucumber ice. In fact, I think a round of cucumber sorbet in a G&T could make a genius grown up alternative to the nostalgic but sickly coke float.

After three plates of spirits and a glass of wine, we’d got to know not the names, but the hometowns, jobs, relationship statuses and most importantly drink preferences of all of our dining companions. Although turning up to sit at three long tables with a load of strangers can seem intimidating, it made the whole evening into a chatty, giggly, buzzy party – by the time we got to the distillery we were all mates, snickering like naughty school kids at the amount of free booze being dished out.

Anyway, let’s set things straight: the Sipsmith Gin Distillery Tour doesn’t meet the traditional definition of tour. But after the Princess Victoria I for one couldn’t have been happier to turn up to a small garage on a residential street in Shepherd’s Bush i.e. no walking, hairnets or stairs required. It is a pretty insightful tour for your taste buds though; first the necessary G&T was handed out, and from there we moved onto Sipsmith’s Barley Vodka, then their London Dry Gin, Summer Cup, Damson Vodka, and finally the Sloe Gin. For me, the Sloe Gin was the favourite: berry-red, dark and syrupy, yet stirringly sharp with cinnamon and marzipan hints, it rings with the Christmas spirit.

However, most significantly, my sworn hatred for vodka has been contested and might just be about to change. I’ve found a vodka which is not just a perfume-turpentine concoction designed to burn and inflict agonising hangovers! Of course Grey Goose and Absolut are more endurable than Sainsbury’s own, but still bitter; whereas Sipsmith’s is slightly sweet and actually tastes of something – not surprisingly it reminded my countrified tongue of the smell of hay bales, deceptively wholesome for a 40% vodka.

Whilst we were trying our hardest to stay on our best behaviour, sip our drinks respectfully and not fall onto the surrounding metal kegs, the lovely James told us the story of London Dry Gin and Sipsmith. In his smooth TV presenter voice he explained how they struggled for, but finally attained, a license; introduced us to the beautiful brass beings Patience and Providence (don’t quote me on that, all was a little fuzzy by this point), and described how their curvaceous forms distil a vodka and the swan neck provides a gin; and how their blends vary from your rough supermarket alternatives.

By the time we picked up our goodie bags and poured out onto the pavement, I’d become quite attached to the overgrown chemistry set which is the Sipsmith Distillery. Still, there was no time for tears as we rushed home to make another few G&Ts from our complimentary kit of a plump lime, Fever Tree tonic and 35cl bottle of Sipsmith London Dry. Needless to say, Friday was a wipe-out.

All good things…

…come to those who wait!

A few months ago I began blogging for Aesthetica Magazine, and it’s been an absolute pleasure. I can safely say that they send me to the most widely varied and interesting of exhibitions, and through these I’ve met all sorts of different people. They’re always sure of what they want, and never overly edit my work which makes things much easier for both sides, and is confidence-building and flattering for me.

So, a couple of weeks ago when the magazine asked me to do a last minute film review for the printed magazine I couldn’t refuse! I spent a weekend with my head down (writing your first printed piece for any mag is always stressful!) and sent it off. The magazine is out now, and I can’t wait to see my first copy tomorrow – I won’t incriminate myself with a spoiler, so just look for the long-ish one signed Chloe Hodge.

In the meantime, here’s what I thought of Brancolini Grimaldi’s current show: What is Contemporary?

…

It’s a tricky one to get your head round, but the photographic works from Dan Holdsworth and Lise Safarti are breathtaking, and the ancient relics they converse with are a pleasure to see.

What is Contemporary? is on until 6th July at Brancolini Grimaldi

Epitomising an Era: Blumenfeld Studio at Somerset House

100 colour prints detailing the career of one of the fashion world’s highest ever paid photographers have finally emerged, after years of dispute over ownership – a relic of Blumenfeld’s many lovers and complex family life. Constructed mainly from those shots deemed not quite perfect enough for the front pages of Vogue, Harpers Bazaar, Cosmopolitan etc. Blumenfeld Studio is an insight into the artist’s commitment to, and zeal for, his medium; endless photographs which evidence that he really did “always keep working up to the climax of what was visualised in the first place”.

What is most fascinating about Blumenfeld’s process is that it’s not the clothes, make up or often even the pose of the models which changes – but instead his background, cropping and props. The ever-present direct gaze of his models remains unchanged, perhaps a hand moves from chin to neck, but really it is Blumenfeld’s careful scenic arrangements which decide which piece of film becomes a cover and which remains unprinted.

Having produced the wrappings of US Vogue for more than a decade, Blumenfeld is chiefly recognised for having depicted, and forever framed, 1950s America as the ultimate era of sharp, effortless glamour. However, his most pioneering work was catalysed by a more artistic vein – his acquaintance with Dadaism and the Surrealists. His methods were anarchic, famously explaining that “if the film says to keep it cool, I boil it; if it says you should always keep it above a certain temperature, I freeze it”. This innovative approach to photography could be result of Blumenfeld’s introduction to the medium: he did not train in a studio under a master, but instead discovered a darkroom in the Amsterdam leather shop he owned in 1932, and, bored with the steady life of a businessman, began experimenting.

His highly technical experiments were endless: solarisation, warping with chemicals and hands-on manipulation, cutting, cropping, silhouettes and a range of completely bizarre uses of light and shadow. Many of the resulting images can be seen at Somerset House, and stand somewhere between psychedelia, painting and dream; in these intense pieces Blumenfeld’s affection for women is patent.

Although Blumenfeld’s career began with a spell simply photographing his Amsterdam shop’s prettiest customers – a marketing scheme of sorts – his work is far more complex than just good looks. His women have power, their direct gaze is absolutely piercing – at times eyes are even manipulated to become bright white negatives; haunting and penetrating. He called his obsession with women “platonic erotomania”; accurate, as these images are regal and never crude, but bear the mark of a photographer in touch with his model’s sexuality.

Whilst the editorials of many fashion magazines can be made bland by the hand of the Art Editor (or “arse editor” as Blumenfeld preferred), the work of Blumenfeld studio often retained its artistic integrity, part due to the photographer’s friendship with US Vogue’s Art Editor Alexander Liberman. The numerous Vogue covers currently exhibited at Somerset House are a snapshot of the 1950s and of a time when magazines were plastered with something more enlightening than just a high-res photograph of a model in clothes. Nothing as imaginative as Blumenfeld’s carefully cut double-images, projections onto nude skin, or even, after the war, political statements, deck the magazine racks of today.

Still, Blumenfeld’s work is eternally inspiring, and often mimicked; his iconic “doe eye” photograph, his sensual campaigns for Chesterfield cigarettes, tactile Woman in Silk, and precarious example of model-balancing for On the Eiffel Tower. However, what cannot be reproduced, and what is missing from the austere fashion photography of today is sensitivity; of course this is partly due to technicality, partly due to style, but chiefly due to the photographer itself. It has been said that “a woman who wasn’t previously beautiful, became beautiful if Blumenfeld though them so”; his models clearly felt confidence and pride in working with him, and the strength of this shines through in glowing, vital pieces. In every photograph there is the tiniest discernible edge of a smile in the corner of a lip, or eye – a result of Blumenfeld’s final, most mysterious trick: “To soften my models, before I start shooting, I ask every one of them ‘will you marry me?’” 

Blumenfeld Studio, Somerset House East Wing Galleries

23 May–1 September 2013

Michael Landy’s Saints Alive: violent, comical and controversial, bringing art history to life

Michael Landy
Saint Apollonia, 2013
Mixed media
282 x 76 x 86 cm
Michael Landy, courtesy of the Thomas Dane Gallery, London
© Michael Landy, courtesy of the Thomas Dane Gallery, London / Photo: The National Gallery, London

If you’d ever considered the National Gallery to be a staid old building, filled with musty old paintings demanding reverence and silence, think again. With wild contemporary art shows currently popping up all over London – each one madder than the last – people can become despondent to the old masters which are great, well, simply because they are. People do like to say they’ve been to see this controversial show at this brand new gallery, and this shocking piece at that upcoming venue, because it’s trendy. But, if different and new is trendy then perhaps soon we’ll all be coming full circle – returning to the gilded walls of the National Gallery to rediscover the history of our current art scene.

Installation of Saints Alive at the National Gallery, 2013 © Michael Landy, courtesy of the Thomas Dane Gallery, London / Photo: The National Gallery, London

Michael Landy
Penitence Machine (Saint Jerome), 2012
Photographic paper and watercolour pencil on paper
185.9 x 153 cm
Michael Landy, courtesy of the Thomas Dane Gallery, London
© Michael Landy, courtesy of the Thomas Dane Gallery, London

If there’s any exhibition that’s likely to bring in even the edgiest of art-lovers, it’s Michael Landy’s Saints Alive. When approached by the National Gallery to act as associate artist, he was at first shocked and slightly bewildered, however he soon found his own way of rediscovering and appropriating its vast collection.

Landy is best known for Break Down (2001), which saw him throw thousands of his worldly possessions into what an ‘art bin’, soon joined by artists such as Hirst throwing in their wares. It is daring for the National Gallery, an institute of preservation, to allow such a destructive artist into the collection – but as Landy explains, we understand history by taking it apart, and this is exactly what Saints Alive does.

Forming a relationship with the symbols in paintings of the most iconic of Christian saints, Landy developed enormous kinetic sculptures which interrupt the quiet of the galleries: fibreglass fingers beat the painted chest of Christ, Saint Apollonia’s elbows snap sharply as she pulls a tooth from her mouth, and the whirring Multi-Saint – a piece combining the tragic tales of several Saints. They could seem offensive – and people are all too prone to taking offence anyway – but really they’re just bringing art history to life.

In fact the show is perfect for an 11 year old art student I have; like any little boy, he loves machinery and action, and this is an ideal way of introducing him to paintings which otherwise might not enliven him.

Nationalised Saints, 2013
Photographic paper, catalogue pages and paint on paper
152.8 x 121.5 cm
Michael Landy, courtesy of the Thomas Dane Gallery, London
© Michael Landy, courtesy of the Thomas Dane Gallery, London

As soon as I entered the room of enormous fibreglasses (and especially because one wasn’t quite working properly), I was sure that this show had to be the work of MDM Props – an art fabrication company based in Herne Hill who I’d worked for throughout 2011. Sure enough, a film in an adjoining room shows the works being crafted in MDM’s workshop; not many artists are modest enough to admit that they don’t make their own work (very few actually do…) and so, this film gives the show a unique level of honesty which certainly dismisses any notion of the National Gallery as inaccessible ‘high art’.

Although Landy’s bombastic sculptures are exciting, shocking and darkly humorous, the prints on show are equally fascinating. Beautifully crafted collages and ink details offer an insight into the artist’s thought process, into his response to paintings which previously seemed to bear no parallels to his own practice.

Michael Landy
Multi-Saint, 2013
Mixed media
458 x 165 x 157 cm
Michael Landy, courtesy of the Thomas Dane Gallery, London
© Michael Landy, courtesy of the Thomas Dane Gallery, London / Photo: The National Gallery, London

This show seems to be a turning point of sorts; artists often refer back to the old masters in an indirect way, however Landy brings art history into the present. Taking a “pick and mix” approach to the National Gallery’s archive, Landy’s work is wholeheartedly postmodern; and with his combination of non-traditional materials and traditional Christian icons, and utter honesty surrounding both his thought processes and working methods, it is open, inclusive and refreshingly down to earth.

I’m looking forward to my second visit, and hopefully this time the eight-foot-tall St Francis of Assisi is behaving himself so that my pupil can go home with a free Tshirt bearing the words “Poverty, Chastity and Obedience”, although I’m not quite sure what his parents will think…

Michael Landy Saints Alive is on show at The National Gallery until November 24.

All Visual Arts: Jonathan Wateridge

During Frieze Week 2012, I spent a few days with Kings Cross gallery, All Visual Arts; their satellite show Metamorphosis blew me away and I’ve been hooked on their shows since. Every exhibition carries an air of mystery, from the morbid ceramics of Bertozzi e Casoni to their contemporary drawing show Between The Lines, for some reason this gallery’s exhibitions always hit a nerve.

Currently on show is a collection of Jonathan Wateridge’s work, having moved back to All Visual Arts – the artist’s representing gallery – from L&M Arts in LA. The collection is only viewable by appointment for a short period, and like the artist this show is modest – but absolutely worth visiting. Wateridge’s style has developed from his slightly brash, artificially-lit scenes into a softer style – almost like a photographer whose camera has lost focus, or discovered a new medium in switching from the clean shapes of digital to the evocative tactility of analogue film.

Wateridge’s new works are mesmerizing in their simplicity: a triptych of a man’s suited shoulders so rich that you can almost feel the fine threads of the jacket; the wire mesh of a tennis court scored in sharp white dashes, pulled tight and hot in the blazing sunlight.

The show is comprised of cropped, almost abstract pieces, as well as the portraits and larger pieces which characterize Wateridge’s career. A young artist, this show evidences the way that his style is developing – his most recent work displaying a more sombre tone and velveteen finish. 

Although Wateridge only began exhibiting nine years ago, having rejected painting for almost fifteen years, his work shows no sign of being underdeveloped or amateur. Instead it is self-assured, unapologetic and sublimely crafted. A true modern master.

Jonathan Wateridge is at AVA until the 15th June. 

Images courtesy of L&M Arts

 

Miles Aldridge: Carousel

Film-maker turned fashion designer Miles Aldridge has delivered seductive sirens silk-screened in an electrifying palette to the forefront of the fashion world for 15 years. In a whirlwind three-day show, Mayfair gallery Brancolini Grimaldi presents 32 lithographic and silkscreen prints. Entitled Carousel, this show utterly submerges its audience into the compellingly false and alluringly flawless, dreamlike world of Miles Aldridge. His works are uncanny cinematic fabrications saturated in grotesque decadence, ever masked by a deceptive curtain of kitsch femininity.

   See the full review here…