2023 - Issue 78
Showcasing artists and works that caught my attention.
Classical statue monkey-men stand proudly on plinths, while ceramic octopi straddle pipes and look ready to attack. Benedetto Pietromarchi (@benedettopietromarchi) has crafted some pretty amusing WTF sculptures that make my movie-addled brain replay 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and Tim Burton’s twist ending to Planet of the Apes. The works evoke man-vs-nature conflict, but I suspect most viewers will probably just giggle uncomfortably and be left wondering if art is really allowed to look this oddball. Yes! The answer is always Yes.
‘Abyss’ at Josh Lilley (@joshlilleylondon) until 30 Sept
Why would you want to watch countless movie scenes of doors being opened, shut, slammed, locked, lingered in or quickly passed through? Because doors represent choice, and sometimes it’s more fun to watch someone else deal with the impact of their decisions. Except here there’s no payoff, because Christian Marclay has seamlessly edited the clips together to appear as one long and endless transition. Actors, sets and genre constantly change, yet it’s never jarring. Except on the rare occasion when you see a scene you recognise, which will certainly be the case if you’ve watched a lot of old movies or stick around long enough for things to repeat. I sat for 20 minutes and nothing looped. Then over the next 25 minutes I saw Sydney Poitier walk through the same door five times. Based on the average length of each clip, I watched about 200 and I’d have eagerly sat through 1,000 more if there had been comfy seats. Something this simple shouldn’t be so beguiling.
‘Doors’ at White Cube (@whitecube) until 30 Sept
Gerald Chukwuma (@gerald.chukwuma) applies dots of paint and snippets of aluminium packaging to burnt and chiselled planks of wood. They look like abstract collage of rubbish, except a lingered stare reveals patterns, figures and occasionally a familiar word or logo. Are these flags, large scale mosaics or alien tapestry?
‘Homeostasis’ at Kristin Hjellegjerde (@kristinhjellegjerdegallery) until 30 Sep
Odoteres Ricardo de Ozias is a self-taught Brazilian painter who also became an evangelical minister. His small works look like the output of someone who’s been hired to illustrate religious indoctrination textbooks but clearly doesn’t believe everything that’s been forced into the curriculum. They’re filled with subversive details that made me laugh out loud, or maybe I’m just misinterpreting the smiles? From Carnival crowds to indigenous people being chased by slave traders, everyone he paints seems to be laughing and having one helluva good time. Well, everyone except that guy being eaten by crocodiles.
At David Zwirner (@davidzwirner) until 29 Sep
I’m not a fan of the soft, washed-out effect that’s currently fashionable because too many painters rely solely on its visual impact as their primary calling card. But Sooim Jeong (@sooim_jeong) has cleverly applied the style as one more layer of obfuscation between the viewer and her carefully hidden stories. This is slow art, with multiple layers patiently waiting to be exposed if you take the time to look. You might get caught examining the domestic decorations that frame the overall compositions. But look deeper and you’ll get stuck trying to uncover the stories peeking out from behind the curtains, clouds or a wisteria branch.
‘Summer Remains’ at Workplace (@_workplace_) until 30 Sep
Is it ok to laugh out loud in a show intended to celebrate “the enriching relationship between visual art and autism”? From the absurdity of goo dripping down super skinny legs (Erin Collins — @erineacollins) to the implications of too-tall royalty in a Victorian portrait (Nathan Cash Davidson — @nathancashdavidsonofficial) and the crazy cartoon scenes by Glenn Wilkinson, almost everything in this show was silly or surreal. Or both, like ‘Derby Day’ by Babeworld3000 (@babeworld3000) — a six and a half minute verbal anecdote that details the uncomfortable realities and “threat of violence constant to marginalised people across the domestic and creative spaces they occupy”. It’s a compelling-cringe story told in such a humorously disarming way that you really can’t help but listen ‘til the end to find out what happens, and then be thankful it hasn’t happened to you. Yet.
Curated by Sacha Craddock (@sachacraddock)
‘Full House’ at Somers Gallery (@somersgallery) until 14 Oct
PLUS…
Check the What’s On page so you don’t miss any other great shows closing soon.
Subscribe to the Weekly Newsletter.