France-Lise McGurn - Hostess
Have you ever had a moment when everything goes silent and it seems like everyone in the room has stopped to stare at you? Maybe you’ve seen such a scene on TV or in the movies. It’s exactly how I felt when I walked into a gallery last week, except everyone was stark naked. Ok, not entirely naked. Some had shoes on.
That scene was set by France-Lise McGurn, whose overlapping line drawings of nude female figures take over an entire L-shaped room, and I mean all over. Canvas, furniture, and every one of the walls was completely covered before any works were hung, so there won’t be any awkward white rectangles left over once they’re sold. It’s an immersive experience and worth each and every raving social media review that it’s been getting. But here’s the thing that’s been bothering me since the moment I left: I haven’t been able to recall a single one of the works on canvas. Not one.
What I do recall is the furniture, and yes you can sit on it. Those pieces were set apart from everything else, and visually stood out against the wood grain floor. They’re completely unique. It’s not often you see a white leather sofa covered by markers without a tearful, angry parent scolding a naughty child nearby. And the cigarettes. I also recall the cigarettes. It’s a cinematic cliché that cool kids and bad girls smoke, but here that’s been subverted via actual cigarettes sticking out of the wall. Often in humorous and unexpected ways. But the canvasses? I’m pretty sure there was a giant triptych, and another work was very, very yellow. But, erm… that’s about it. I’ll have to check my photos.
My experience led to a lot of deep thinking about the impact these types of gallery shows have on the individual pieces that are intended to be sold and taken home. Buzz is generated and the artist’s reputation elevated, but when the works themselves blend so seamlessly with their background that it becomes hard to parse the art from the installation, how do you judge success? What am I even assessing?
Contemporary art can be anything, but it’s most commonly a wall-hung rectangle and after I’ve seen some, lack of recall is one sign that I won’t be recommending that work. But maybe that doesn’t matter in this instance, because McGurn’s canvasses are just one of the many elements she’s placed on a much larger canvas that most people would commonly refer to as ‘the room’. The entire room is the art, and the art didn’t just make an impression on me when I entered, but stuck with me long after I left. On that basis, McGurn’s artwork (singular) is incredibly successful despite the easily forgettable nature of any one component canvas. But that’s only half the reason why this show is so successful.
After May 25th this show, in this iteration, can never be experienced again. OK, technically, yes, the gallery could meticulously measure, photo and document every wall drawing and carefully drilled cigarette hole, enabling the entire work to be recreated at some stage in the future. But soon those walls will be repainted and collectors who bought the furniture will forever be nervously telling their houseguests that “yes, you can sit on it, but no, please don’t sit on it”. So maybe it doesn’t matter that I can’t recall the canvasses. What’s stuck in my head are the emotions and impact I had inside a site-specific room the artist meticulously created, knowing full well that it was always meant to be deconstructed and erased.
Plan your visit
‘Hostess’ runs until 25 May.
Visit simonleegallery.com and follow @simonleegallery on Instagram for more info about the venue.
Visit the gallery’s artist bio page and follow @francelisemcg on Instagram for more info about the artist.
🖼️ Want more art? Visit the What’s On page to see a list of recommended shows, sorted by closing date. Don’t miss ‘em!