Whenever I'm wandering round a gallery that's full to the gunwales with complicated conceptual things that I don't really understand, I usually resort to the same joke. Pointing at the floor or a lightswitch or maybe a fire extinguisher (depending on the rigour of the gallery's health and safety commitments), I turn to whoever happens to be my unfortunate companion and ask in mock-confused fashion; 'And, what, is this art too?'
It's kind of funny for a bit, I suppose, but I'm beginning to think that I may need some new things to say in galleries. Fortunately for me however, trotting out the usual line actually worked rather well at the opening of The Arts Gallery's new exhibition 'Working Space'.
Let me explain: the concept for this exhibition is to 'collapse the space' between art and gallery. The exhibition entails a complete reconfiguring of the gallery space, with a variety of temporary walls, doors, and windows inserted into the gallery by Dylan Shipton in collaboration with the other four artists involved. The effect is such that it's hard to tell where art ends and gallery begins, so even 'stray' bits of tape on the floor or flecks of paint on the wall become part of the art: my standard joke suddenly becomes quite a pertinent question.
With all of these structural interventions, viewing the exhibition is akin to some kind of exploratory adventure: 'Hey! Look at this little sculpture round here!' and 'Come and look through this bit!' I found myself exclaiming, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. A sense of fun has rarely been so prevalent in a gallery.
The works by three of the artists – Richard Galpin, David Ben White and Justin Hibbs – relate to the exhibition's concept in a thematic (as opposed to conceptual or structural) manner. White produces cartoony atom-structure paintings; Hibbs combines photography and paint to explore a modernist architectural aesthetic; and Galpin uses a scalpel to remove the surface from large photos to create cyber-cubist metropolis 'clusters'.
But the most successful aspect of this exhibition's innovative approach is the interrelationship between Shipton's gallery additions and the installation by Paul Eachus. Eachus produces large scale dioramas that look like the office or studio of the world's most creatively disorganized person: small televisions balance precariously on wooden units perpetually about to topple over, whilst toy soldiers traverse model forests next to rows of discarded Nokia mobile phones. His work is a gloriously and painstakingly constructed melange of messiness.
Eachus's work is characterized by a sense of information overload – there is simply too much to take in – but Shipton's temporary partitions manage to focus and direct the eye. This both enhances and restricts the experience of the viewer as one is forced to peer through geometric port-holes or lean over half-cut doorways. The effect emphasises something that is common to all attempts to view a work of art: it's just always impossible to see everything in one go. That is the frustration of the viewer, and the source of art's continued ability to give pleasure.
This is a genuinely exciting exhibition: a bit wacky, a lot of fun, and conceptually challenging. It's kind of like if MC Esher had been asked to create a play-zone for arty folk, but ran out of time half way through. In a really good way...
Click here to see all London exhibitions.
Click here to see all London art.
Click here for things to do in Oxford Street.
Add an event
Review: Byzantium
20 years after Interview with a Vampire, director Neil Jordan cooks up the theme on a ...