Posts Tagged ‘William Blanchard’

William Blanchard in Redchurch Street, or the death of art spells the murder of artists, the real anti-artists appear….

Wednesday, May 6th, 2009

Although The Maurice Einhardt Neu Gallery (30A Redchurch Street, London E2 7DP) has set opening times, it doesn’t always stick to them. I was curious about their William Blanchard show (24 April -6 May 2009), but whenever I turned up to see it, the joint was closed. Fortunately, at 15,24 on 4 May 2009, I got the following text message: “William Blanchard show open now for 3 hours. Sexton.” The message was from Martin Sexton who runs the Artwars Project Space on the opposite side of the street, and who’d kindly agreed to text me when the Blanchard show was viewable.

Stopping only to finish the cup of coffee I’d just made, I jumped on my bicycle and peddled furiously all the way from the Isle of Dogs to Shoreditch. Once more the space was locked but after I’d banged on the door for a bit, gallery director Martin J Tickner opened up. He apologised for the fact that there were amplifiers and other pieces of musical equipment immediately in front of the single wall on which Blanchard’s work was hung, explaining: “The boys came back from doing a gig last night and we haven’t stored their gear away yet.” I’d heard the gallery was also used as a music rehearsal studio and knew that Tickner’s partner in the gallery was Sean McLusky, who’d had five minutes of fame with the hit song Boxerbeat in the 1980s, when he’d been in boy band JoBoxers.

Moving on, William Blanchard’s work is very punk rock, being both slapdash and not very good. The pieces were assemblages and/or crude collages within box-like frames, plus a solitary sculpture entitled Rocking Unicorn (price £199.99). The two best pieces are American Buns (18.3′ x 13.7′, price £199.99) and Tiger Bruce Lee (16′ x 12.5′, price £99.99). The later shows a still of Bruce Lee from the fight scene with Han at the climax of Enter The Dragon with his teeth bared in anger, and pasted next to this is a roaring tiger! American Buns features a photograph of a nude model holding her breasts collaged over a shooting target, above the model’s bleached hair is a fragment of newspaper with the headline ‘This Is America”, on either side are pieces of a paper US  flag and, at the bottom of the work, a wrapper emblazoned with the words ‘American Buns’ that incorporates the US flag into its design; finally there is an empty can of coke with a small American flag protruding from it, sitting on a shelf on the left-hand side of the assemblage. The classic red, white and blue colour scheme is one of the factors that help this piece almost work aesthetically; likewise. the predominant yellow of Tiger Bruce Lee is what lifts that collage from being simply bad, to being so bad it is good. Other pieces, such as Bugz 1 and Bugz 2 (both 19′ x 17′ and priced at £199.99), which consist of rubber bug toys arranged in lines in a box, are merely crap.

I’d wanted to see Blanchard’s show because a press release claimed his inspiration came from Joesph Cornell and Wallace Berman. The Cornell influence I could just about see, albeit filtered through the prism of punk rock failure, but where Berman came into the equation wasn’t evident to me. So I asked Martin Tickner about this:

TRIPPY: I can’t really see the Wallace Berman influence in this, and that was why I wanted to see the show, because it supposedly took up his esoteric interests. Berman has a very specific relationship to Jewish mysticism.

TICKNER: I suppose it’s more Joseph Cornell in the work. I don’t know much about Wallace Berman myself.

TRIPPY: Did you see the Wallace Berman show at Camden Arts Centre?

TICKNER: No, but there’s a Berman show on in Spitalfields right now.

TRIPPY: Really? Where?

TICKNER. In Spitalfields, in the place owned by the son of J. Sainsbury.

TRIPPY: You mean Alex Sainsbury’s gallery Raven Row. That’s not a Berman show, that’s a Ray Johnson exhibition.

For me, what Tickner had to say summed up everything that is good about The Maurice Einhardt Neu Gallery; in short, its total disconnection from the London art world. The space is pure grunge with black walls, strip lights and other than a grimy window, absolutely no other illumination. Despite the gallery’s self-evident status as a rock ‘n’ roll toilet, there is nonetheless an aura of fakery about the place, since its famous art world friends – as listed on its website – allegedly include figures such as Robert Motherwell and Dieter Roth, both of whom died before it was even founded. Assemblage is absolutely the most ridiculous exhibition I’ve seen for some time, and that’s high praise indeed for a show in which a few works are so bad they are good, with the rest being simply… well shit!

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

There is no beginning, there is no end, the counterculture goes on forever…

Monday, May 4th, 2009

The London Zine Symposium 2009 took place at The Rag Factory (16-18 Heneage Street, London  E1 5LJ)  yesterday, Sunday 3 May. As an event, it occupies the ground between Publish & Be Damned (with its self-published art focus) and the Anarchist Book Fair (for those committed to full-on and weekend variety anarchist life-styles). There were a lot of familiar faces on the stalls at the Zine Symposium ranging from Mark Pawson (who can also be seen at Publish & Be Damned) to Active Distribution (who favour the Anarchist Book Fair). I was at the top of Brick Lane at lunch time before making my way to the Zine Symposium, and the Whitechapel Anarchist Group (all two of them) were out in force selling their publication WAG in front of the Beigel Bake. Later they were manning a stall down the road at the Zine Symposium. The anarchists somehow managed to constitute themselves as a separate fraction within this event, although the art elements appeared to dominate in terms of the stalls, reflecting the fact that Published & Be Damned is currently the biggest annual bring-and-buy self-publishing event in London.

There were a bunch of readings, workshops and debates, but I only attended Alternative Visions: comics, zines and politics since the 1970s at 2.30pm. The event was dominated by Roger Sabin, a reader in popular culture at Central Saint Martins College of Art. He was assisted by Teal Triggs, Professor of Graphic Design at the London College of Communication. After their own presentations, Sabin and Triggs put a few questions to Isy from Morgenmuffel and Edd from Hey Monkey Riot/Last Hours zines. I had difficulties with the way Sabin treated the hippie and punk subcultures as ultimately distinct, since I feel they are more closely entwined than he assumed, and I also find he takes the rhetoric of those involved with such scenes rather too seriously. However, my main problem with Sabin’s presentation was that he didn’t really deal with the economic and technological factors that have driven change in zine and comic production over the past forty years. However, his ideological idealism didn’t really surprise me given that I’ve never found Sabin’s academic work on subculture very satisfactory, as my ten year old review of his book Punk Rock, So What? indicates (see text in right column of link for this).

As the afternoon wore on, more and more people I knew – starting with Malcolm Hopkins and concluding with Richard Essex – drifted off to The Pride Of Spitalfields. I looked into the pub, but then decided to try to catch the William Blanchard AKA Wildcat Will show Assemblage at the Maurice Einhardt Neu Gallery in Redchurch Street. That exhibition space turned out to be closed and locked up; but as I headed up to it, I did see Jimmy Cauty making his way towards his car, and Martin Sexton standing outside his Artwars Project Space on the other side of the street from the Maurice Einhardt Neu Gallery.

Martin told me Jimmy had just been in to see his joint show with Dominique Lacloche, Beneath The Pavement… The Beach, which was coming down that very night. This joint effort between Sexton and Paris based Lacloche is certainly one of the crazier art manifestations I’ve seen on Redchurch Street in recent years, featuring as it did giant leaves on which photographs have been developed, a levitation machine and a mask of Socrates made out of a 4.5 billion year old meteorite. It made sense to me that a former member of the KLF would have been visiting it. I haven’t seen Jimmy for a couple years, and the weekend just gone was an interesting one for passing people without speaking to them; this started late on Friday afternoon when I’d walked past Liam Gillick on the stairs at Book Works, as he’d been making his way up to the editorial floor of the building, and I’d been leaving. There were a few people I’d avoided speaking to at the Zine Symposium as well, but they shall remain nameless.

Martin Sexton talked me through a few of his innumerable upcoming plans. One that I suspect will remain unrealised is for a psychogeographers super-group featuring Iain Sinclair, Peter Ackroyd, Tom Vague and me, to play a one off concert at his Artwars Project Space. The next show opening at Sexton’s space is Psycho Pomp, which runs from 8 to 31 May 2009. After leaving Sexton, my next move was a meet with Tom McCarthy, Eva Stenram and visiting US writer Jesse Ball; the conversation ping-ponged between Iceland, Finland and teaching creative writing. Later in the evening I opened an email from Richard Thomas apologising for the short notice but saying that the Gloria radio show I’d recorded for Resonance FM would be broadcast tonight (Monday 4 May) from 9.00 to 10.00pm, and repeated on Sunday 10 May, 7.30 to 8.30pm. Finally, I caught the likes of John Williams and Kodwo Eshun talking on Sukhdev Sandhu’s curious but ultimately unsatisfactory BBC Radio 3 Sunday feature The Life & Times of Michael X, before deciding that was enough counterculture for one day, and settling down with an old school kung fu movie.

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