Posts Tagged ‘Shoreditch’

Celebrities Suck! That’s Official!

Tuesday, August 7th, 2012

Seeing the pictures of British Olympic gold medal winners with pop celebrities in the papers today reminded me that for some time I’d intended to post a blog about why celebrities suck. I’d had the idea of doing this long before cyclist Bradley ‘Wiggo’ Wiggins said in his post-Olympic win speech that he disliked celebrity culture. Anyway there is the papers today is Wiggo with an arm around Paul Weller in a Shoreditch nightclub, alongside speculation that Weller inspired Wiggo’s sideburns.

Paul Weller is a paradigmatic example of a celebrity who sucks. Back in the mid-seventies one of my mates had older brothers who were close friends of Weller – which is how I became acquainted with this particularly poxy poseur in his pre-fame days. In the spring of 1977 when the first single by Weller’s old band The Jam had just entered the bottom of the top thirty, I happened to be heading to the West End with my mate Mick Carver and we ran into Mick’s older brothers who were with Paul Weller. Mick stopped to have a conversation with his brothers, so Weller who already knew me told me how great it was to get in the pop charts. Weller said to me: “I’m famous now, do you want my autograph?” I told him to fuck off and I haven’t spoken to him since – and why would I want to when he’s a complete twat and has made so many terrible records over the years…

And let’s forget this nonsense about Weller being the Modfather coz he ain’t worth a light compared to someone like Jesse Hector of The Hammersmith Gorillas and various other bands. Hector even hails from Kilburn – as does Wiggo – and sported by far and away the greatest mod sideburns of all time! While Hector made some great records he ain’t a celebrity like Paul Weller, and that’s why the press isn’t speculating that Jesse Hector inspired Wiggo’s sideburns…

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check – www.stewarthomesociety.org – you know it makes (no) sense!

John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins in Shoreditch, a communist headache?

Saturday, June 20th, 2009

On Thursday night I took in the opening of the Hoppy (John Hopkins) exhibition Against Tyranny: Talking about a Revolutionary at Idea Generator on Chance Street in Shoreditch. The displayed photos date from the early and mid-sixties. Mostly they seemed to be straightforward examples of photojournalism and celebrity portraiture. There were also some freak graphics by people other than Hoppy, but connected to him via his involvement with the underground newspaper International Times. So what Idea Generator presents us with is very much an official history of one phase of the London counterculture. That said, it looked a little odd in east London, when so much of what was on display depicted west London more than 40 years ago.

The opening was too packed to be able to see the images properly, but what most interested me was coverage of ‘ban-the-bomb’ demonstrations. I didn’t clock Hoppy’s Doctor Steve Abrams portraits which I’ve roundly criticised elsewhere (do a word search to get to Abrams and Hoppy on this page) for:  “mimicking the depiction of male doctors and female hysterics in nineteenth-century medical paintings. Since some viewers were inevitably going to make a connection between these publicity japes and the earlier imagery upon which they so strikingly draw, Abrams left himself wide open to criticism for generating negative perceptions of both women and recreational drug users.” If these problematic images were on display, they were hidden in one of the nooks it was impossible for me to enter because of the crowds already there.

I couldn’t see enough of the show to make any real judgement of it; and beyond Joe Boyd and Hoppy himself, I spotted very few familiar faces from the sixties. I did manage to grab hold of Malcolm Dickson from Street Level Gallery in Glasgow, and as we needed to catch up, we ducked out for refreshments elsewhere. So I guess I’ll go back and see the show properly later, it is on until 19 July. The place was just too mobbed, with endless flashbulbs going off and professional film-makers getting in my way, to be pleasant.

Moving on, I hadn’t posted anything on YouTube for more than six months until yesterday because I was fed up with being censored on that site. As I’ve said elsewhere: “YouTube actually removed a parody of a Fluxus film for violating their rules. This was a countdown from 10 to 1, no images in it at all, just numerals. Presumably the problem was the joke title 10 Erotic Movies – it had more than twenty thousand hits before being taken down by the authoritarians who run that platform. If YouTube won’t allow a film like this, then Web 2.0 is a joke and we need to move on to Web 2.1, where we control the sites we’re posting on!”

But right now there is a new video of mine up on YouTube entitled Does Modern Art Give You A Headache? Check it out, and see how it emerged from an earlier blog on this site: Performing Localities: Recent Guatemalan Performance Art On Video.

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check – www.stewarthomesociety.org - you know it makes (no) sense!

Performing Localities: Recent Guatemalan Performance Art On Video

Friday, May 8th, 2009

There were two evenings of screenings and talks about Guatemalan live art at Iniva in Shoredtich on 5 & 6 May (2009). On both nights six videos lasting around 40 minutes in total were followed by a talk that went on a little longer. The panel on the first night consisted of London-based curator Joanne Bernstein and her Guatemala City counterpart Rosina Cazali. Among other things, they outlined the political background to contemporary cultural production in Guatemala. This might partly be summarised by explaining that mid-twentieth century land reforms in Guatemala led to a CIA sponsored coup in 1954; then after a presidential assassination three years later and other internal troubles, there followed a civil war that only ended in 1996.

The neocolonialist exploitation of Latin America by the United Fruit Company, whose economic interests were being defended by the United States government when it intervened in Guatemala was not mentioned, presumably in the interests of keeping the session relatively short and simple. What was outlined was the policy of genocide towards the mainly rural native American population, the destruction of hundreds of Mayan villages, and the systematic murder by the US supported Guatemalan regime of thousands of civilians who became known as the disappeared.

On the Tuesday night three videos by Regina José Galindo, probably the best known contemporary Guatemalan artist, were screened. The first of these We Loose Nothing By Being Born (2000) was the best of them. In this Galindo lies naked in a clear plastic bag (with holes in it to allow her to breath) at a landfill site on the edge of Mexico City; the soundtrack is simply ambient city noise captured as the piece was filmed. As with many of Galindo’s works, a strong and deceptively simple image is created. On the one hand Galindo in the bag might be taken as a representation of a baby in its mother’s womb; on the other, she is simultaneously invoking the unidentifiable bodies of the disappeared that are found abandoned in many parts of Latin America and bagged up before being buried. Aside from the obvious birth/death dialectic at work here, the setting and surreality of the image also reminded me of those Jeff Keen movies (particularly White Dust, 1972) set in the Whitehawk landfill dump on the edge of Brighton in England.

Performing Localities was billed as consisting entirely of videos screened ‘for the first time in the UK’, which put the curators of this event at a major disadvantage as far as Galindo was concerned, since a mid-career retrospective of her work, The Body Of Others, was hosted by Modern Art Oxford from 31 January to 29 March this year. Thus the pick of her work had already been shown in the UK, and as a consequence two of the three Galindo pieces screened on the first night of Performing Localities could be viewed as second-rate. That said, what these screenings also brought home is that a bad Galindo piece is often better than the most outstanding work of her contemporaries on the Guatemala City live art scene.

Weight (2005) documents a four day performance in the Dominican Republic during which Galindo ate, slept and performed all her daily tasks shackled by heavy chains. Given Galindo’s encasement in slave manacles, the work is first and foremost concerned with colonial exploitation, although the programme notes suggested the piece is also more generally about: “the limitations placed on women… in Central America’. The video contains some nice images but is ultimately unsatisfactory. The majority of films showing Galindo’s actions are straightforward point and shoot exercises, and often they are very grungily framed. There may be time lapses but in part their effect depends upon the viewer believing that any editing has been minimal. I wasn’t surprised when during a talk she gave at Modern Art Oxford, Galindo insisted that it is her actions which are her art, while the videos and photographs of them are simply something she sells to sustain herself. This accounts for their rough documentary feel; on the whole – despite a very different content – they don’t look much different from thousands of home videos you can see posted on YouTube.

With Weight there is self-evident manipulation of the filmed material. For example, Galindo is shown singing, the video then cuts to her walking in her manacles while the singing on the soundtrack continues, and finally we see her singing again. Clearly these images have not been run in their original chronological sequence, and their clumsy manipulation completely undermines the deceptive sense of simplicity that gives her work so much of its power. The imagery within Weight made me think of Spanish exploitation director Jess Franco’s women-in-prison movies such as 99 Women (1969), Devil’s Island Lovers (1974), Barbed Wire Dolls (1975)  and Ilsa, the Wicked Warden (1977). I doubt that this is a connection Galindo was looking to make, but given Franco’s ongoing popularity it is inevitably one that is going to crop up in some viewers’ minds. Another possibly inappropriate association that occurred to me is the use of harnesses to tie members of the British performance art collective Ddart together during their durational works of the 1980s.

The third Galindo work screened on Tuesday night was Bitch (2005). In this, Galindo sits on a chair and carves the word ‘perra’ (bitch or whore) into the flesh of her left thigh with a knife. I understand the intention is to invoke the disfiguring of women that is part and parcel of male sexual violence in Guatemala. From the video it is evident that Galindo finds cutting herself painful, and while I’m left impressed by her determination to follow through on ideas she has for her actions, I end up thinking more about this than the general situation of women in Guatemla. Likewise, the performance is too obviously premeditated, whereas sexual violence more usually has the appearance of being spontaneous – even when it isn’t, and despite the fact it springs from a long-established patriarchal culture. This particular work also struck me as being little different in its ultimate effect to talentless rock idol Richey Edwards using a razor blade to carve the phrase “4 REAL” into his arm as a publicity stunt to promote his group the Manic Street Preachers. Fans of Marina Abramovic will probably love both that and this piece by Galindo, but since I think Abramovic and The Manics suck, I am unimpressed.

Moving on, Your Tortillas My Love (2004) by Sandra Monterroso did nothing at all for me. It showed the artist making tortillas and looking almost as bored as I felt watching it. Something may have been lost in translation, because within it Monterroso speaks some Mayan, and this was accompanied by both Spanish and English subtitles, with the latter being at some points completely scrambled and very clearly not the work of a native speaker. According to notes circulated to accompany the screening, the ‘artist appears to be in an obsessive trance’. I’m not convinced by this and see the entire thing as a piece of fakery, despite the assertion by the curators that Monterroso’s work is a ‘magic incantation’ to evoke ‘the gap between Latin and Mayan cultures’. Her video was easily the worst thing screened over the two nights, and at 16 minutes it was also the longest!

Detachment (2007) by Maria Adela Diaz showed two women in matching red dresses that had been stitched together, and as they attempted to move in different directions, the stitching came apart. This created a colourful image but even if as the notes available on the night suggested, this was a daughter seeking independence from her mother, the women should have donned matching slips and bras to take it a little closer to formalist perfection. Personally I’d have preferred the work if the women had been more evenly matched in stature, rather than one being large and the other small. The last film of the first evening was Angel Poyon’s Litanies (2008), a recitation of names of disappeared persons interrupted by questions and a plea for one of them to return from the dead. For non-Spanish speakers such as myself, the work would have been more effective if the names of the missing had been subtitled alongside the other pieces of speech, then I could have been more certain I wasn’t missing anything during those portions of the video that weren’t subtitled.

Wednesday night kicked off with films from Anibal Lopez who was born in 1964, rather than the early to mid-1970s like the rest of those featured in Performing Localities. Lopez is a crucial connection between the younger artists and the preceding generation, and in their earlier days also between this younger generation and the wider international art scene. Lopez acted as a mentor to many of the younger artists and after Galindo, he is probably the best known among them. The first of his films, Roll of 120m x 4m Black Plastic Hanging From The Incienso Bridge (2003), showed a long ribbon of plastic being attached to a bridge and then floating in the air above a valley. It looked like Christo on crack to me, and that is praise indeed!

Another video by Lopez, One Ton Of Books Dumped On Reform Avenue, was the single best piece screened during Performing Localities. It showed a dumper truck halting in the middle of a busy street, discarding its load of used books and moving off; local traffic is disrupted and has to manoeuvre around this pile of rubbish, and before long pedestrians are in the middle of the road, picking through the abandoned publications and taking anything that interests them. This work reminded me of the largely unrealised plans George Maciunas laid out for disrupting high cultural activities and harassing middle class commuters in his Fluxus New-Policy Letter No.6 (dated 6 April 1963).  In this, Maciunas famously advocated the disruption of the New York transportation system via pre-arranged break-downs at strategic points on the city road system during the rush hour.

One Ton Of Books also inclined me to the view that Lopez is probably an unreliable guide to his own work; books are extremely dense and heavy objects, and from my experiences of moving large quantities of them, I’d guess that the weight of books dumped on Reform Avenue was far more than the rhetorical ton used in the title of the piece. This, of course, also made me wonder whether the length of plastic used in the previous piece really was 120 metres, or if it was some other length. On reflection, I figured the length given looked about right for the plastic shown in the film.

The title of the final Lopez film screened on Wednesday night appears to have been inaccurate if its English translation is correct: Sculpture Composed of 500 Boxes of Contraband Transported from Paraguay to Brazil (2007). For this, Lopez paid smugglers to transport empty boxes into Brazil, there was no contraband inside them and it looked to me like there was a lot less than 500 of them. Unless this was a double bluff, and Lopez hid drugs in some of the boxes or used his art piece as a decoy to fool the cops while some real smuggling went down, the work is slight and silly. That said, it brought to mind the activities of British artist Francis Morland, who in the 1960s smuggled hash inside his fibre-glass sculptures (but he pursued this as a money-making criminal activity, rather than as art). No doubt the smugglers Lopez employed are more than happy to be paid to participate in no risk operations but that hardly makes for riveting viewing, and what I saw looked weak in comparison to the other Lopez videos screened during Performing Localities.

Far better was Dario Escobar’s 12 Minutes, 8 Seconds (2008), which consisted of a fixed shot of a lit cigarette placed on a public fountain and filmed until it had burnt down to the butt and the remains were blown away by the wind. Like We Loose Nothing By Being Born and  One Ton Of Books, this piece was a real groove sensation! You knew there would be a pay-off when the ash fell from the cigarette, and the way this was stretched out proved a real gas. And again, like One Ton Of Books, this piece made me think of Fluxus, and  in particular of its simple instructional performances that were theorised by Maciunas as the ‘monomorphic neo-haiku flux-event’ and which he counterposed to the self-indulgence of the ‘mixed media neo-baroque happening’. Needless to say, the soundtrack to 12 Minutes, 8 Seconds was simply ambient city noise captured as the film was made!

A further Galindo video, Survival Skills Course For Men & Woman Preparing To Travel Illegally To The United States (2007), was screened on Wednesday. The film was shot in Mexico and showed a survival instructor hired by Galindo teaching useful skills to a group of people planning to enter the USA illegally via its southern border. This piece had definitely been shown in the UK before since it was included in the recent Galindo retrospective at Modern Art Oxford. But that said, as far as I can tell it was the only video to have had a prior UK outing, although at least one of the other films shown has been available for viewing online.

The last video screened was a 5 minute extract from Jessica Lagunas’ 120 Minutes Of Silence. Unlike all the other artists included in these two nights of screenings, Lagunas was born in Nicaragua rather than Guatemala. She currently lives in New York but was included both because she makes work explicitly about Guatemala, and likewise when she lived in Guatemala City she worked at the same advertising agency as Galindo and Diaz (obviously this was before Galindo became a professional artist). Lagunas has described 120 Minutes Of Silence in the following way: “From one-yard of camouflage fabric, a person cuts along the solid shapes for two-hours, honoring the 40,000 disappeared victims during the 36-year civil war in that country”. The audience at Iniva was extremely restless during the projection of this brief extract; coughing, knocking over drinks and shuffling in seats, therefore at the time it was impossible to determine whether Lagunas (or the person performing the piece for her if it was not Lagunas) was attempting to make as little noise as possible while snipping at the fabric, or if the sound had simply been stripped off the video footage. To me the work would have been more powerful if the former had been the case, but online searches led me to conclude that the film is simply silent. From Lagunas’ description as quoted above, the similarity of these pieces to Fluxus works and scripts once again becomes evident, this is a simple live event that anyone – not just the artist who wrote it – could perform.

The panel talk after the Wednesday screenings was between Professor Oriana Baddeley from Camberwell School of Art in south London, Julian Stallabrass from the Courtauld Institute of Art in The Strand, and Rosina Cazali. Unfortunately the discussion was completely moribund because Baddeley began by challenging the curatorial premise of  a Guatemalan art upon which the screenings were based, suggesting that perhaps the pieces we’d seen had a more universal validity. While someone else might have turned this into an interesting argument, Baddeley was unable to do so and it appeared she knew virtually nothing about the work she was on stage to talk about. She made a couple of tenuous and completely generalised comparisons with currently fashionable artists – Cildo Meireles from Brazil who recently had a big retrospective at Tate Modern, and the pathetic Santiago Sierra (the subject of an April Fools Day hoax on this blog just over a month ago). Baddeley is apparently an ‘expert’ on Mexican art, particularly murals and painting, but evidently doesn’t understand that in order to deal with the general one must also address the specific; and in this instance that would mean referencing both the works that had been screened and knowing something of the history of live art – she said virtually nothing about either. Having pushed the discussion up a blind alley, Baddeley was absolutely determined to keep it there, and thus the Wednesday talk was very dull in comparison to the discussion the night before.

Overall Performing Localities was still an exciting event, highlighting work that would be ignored by the London art world if it was being produced in Europe but that can find an audience here – although it doesn’t have much of one Guatemala – because right now Latin American (and particularly Mexican and Brazilian) culture is fashionable. Successful European artists tend to make slicker but duller work than Galindo and Lopez, and most have had their mind shackled by a formal art training. None of the artists featured in Performing Localities attended art school, they are autodidacts who created a scene through mutual support. Possibly that is why academics like Baddeley are presently incapable of talking about this work, they are so trapped inside the bourgeois art box that they simply don’t understand anything that comes from outside it. Only once this work, its historical precedents and the scene around it, have been more fully mapped out, will the likes of Baddeley suddenly discover a way to understand it. In the meantime, Baddeley – who evidently didn’t even know that it wasn’t the Guatemalan label that held these artists together, but rather the fact that they’d created their own small scene in that territory – remains an impediment to more interesting cultural developments.

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check – www.stewarthomesociety.org – you know it makes (no) sense!

Another deranged London anti-classic from Iain Sinclair

Monday, February 9th, 2009

In Hackney, That Rose Red Empire (published by Hamish Hamilton tomorrow), Iain Sinclair brings together his fictional practices and his cultural journalism with stunning results. Sinclair has interviewed dozens of subterranean London figures such as Chris Petit and then, as he frankly admits, freely rewritten what they told him to suit his own agenda. I’ve already had hours of fun trying to work out what is true and what is made up in this book, and I’m sure once more people have read it this will generate endless pub discussions too.

The transcription of an interview with me bears little resemblance to what I actually told Sinclair. Likewise, Sinclair invents all sorts of fantastic stories about me and these include the allegation that after being beaten about the head with bricks I suffered short term memory loss (not true), I have a £600 bicycle (the cycle I bought in 2001 and still use actually cost less than £100), and he even has me imply that I wouldn’t involve myself in Hackney cottaging! Still the portrait he paints of me is mythic and I come across more like Julian MacLaren-Ross than the regular guy possessed by supernatural powers that I actually am; so overall it is rather flattering! But no mention of my boyfriends coz in this book I’m painted strictly as a serial ladies man – so watch out girls! If the material about me is a gauge of the rest of the book, then more than 50 percent of it is fiction.

Much coverage is devoted to the Hackney Mole Man William Lyttle, and while the recollections of some of those who knew him back in the eighties (basically me and my friend Mark Pawson, who rented a room from him) have some grounding in reality, it seems that the entire interview with this legendary figure is simply made up.  However, this may just be a double-bluff on Sinclair’s part. Who knows? For those who don’t know, the Mole Man is notorious for digging tunnels under his Hackney home and neighbouring properties, thereby making them unstable.

Needless to say, Sinclair’s documentary fiction is considerably more accurate than the telephone checked stories of Fleet Street journalists. Likewise, he doesn’t let the Hackney borders contain him, since he devotes a chapter to the Golden Lane Estate just east of Smithfield Market, an area notorious as Pickt-hatch in the Jacobean era due to the many brothels it housed, but now the base of writers like Tom McCarthy and Chris Petit. I only clocked the historical sex industry connection the other day as I was reading Thomas Middleton’s The Black Book, which takes up from Pierce Penniless by Thomas Nashe, where a modern footnote stated: “Pictk-hatch suburban brothel district, just south east of the intersection of Goswell Road and Old Street”. It is unfortunate I didn’t disinter this in time to tell Sinclair, so that he could include it in his book.

Drawing on A Dictionary of Sexual Language and Imagery in Shakespearean and Stuart Literature by Gordon Williams (Continuum International Publishing Group, 1994), I understand that a pickt-hatch was originally a brothel door with the upper part surrounded by spikes. Williams cites numerous examples of the term’s usage, including Middleton’s Black Book, and notes its application to the area now occupied by the Golden Lane Estate. It is interesting that this locale should have been notorious for prostitution because Fortune Street which housed the Fortune Theatre lies just to its east, and of course the Bankside stews were by The Globe, and there was a theatre in Shoreditch (another area synonymous with prostitution in Elizabethan and Jacobean London). I’m not sure if Whitefriars or Turnmill Street which were also stuffed with ‘punks’ and ‘bawdy houses’ back then also had theatres so close by, but there was obviously a connection between popular spectacle in the form of the theatre and the sex industry of that time.

Something else Sinclair doesn’t report is that the Golden Lane Estate was the work of the architects Chamberlin, Powell and Bon, who later designed the adjacent Barbican complex. Golden Lane is also the current home of a shed load of artists and architects including Merlin Carpenter, the one time Martin Kippenberger assistant whose work was notoriously ‘rejected’ by the ‘master’ but subsequently used in a  skip installation. This type of information simply doesn’t catch Sinclair’s imagination and so isn’t in his book. That said, and despite my failing to pick up on the historical sex industry aspects of the Golden Lane area in time to feed it to Sinclair for use this time around, Hackney, That Rose Red Empire is easily the best book I’ve read this year. And I don’t expect to read anything better until my novel Blood Rites of the Bourgeoisie comes out with Book Works next year!

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check - www.stewarthomesociety.org – you know it makes (no) sense!