Tuesday 25 October 2011

On Thursday I have 2 openings, Standpoint Gallery in London (please see previous post) and Manchester Contemporary, where I am showing with Reconfigure paintings with Castlefield Gallery, Clout and Various Titles with Mermaid & Monster and a print as part of the Trace box set with MMU.
http://www.themanchestercontemporary.com/
Here is info from Castlefield Gallery's website.

The Manchester Contemporary

Thursday, October 27, 2011 to Sunday, October 30, 2011 

Andrew Bracey is an artist based in Manchester. For Manchester Contemporary 2011, Castlefield Gallery will be showing his most recent body of work ReconFigure Paintings, which features the artist’s alterations to well-known reproductions of historical paintings. Every human figure and piece of clothing have been ‘painted out’ of the original composition with geometric, triangular shapes, forcing our vision to oscillate between the artist’s ‘painterly’ additions and the usually obscured mise en scene of original photographic reproduction. Devising a set of guidelines for the creative process, the entirely unique images have been playfully transformed with suggestively haunting undertones.
Solo shows include Manchester Art Gallery, Wolverhampton Art Gallery, Transition Gallery, London, Mid Pennine Gallery, Burnley and firstsite, Colchester. In 2010 he curated UnSpooling - artists and cinema at Cornerhouse, Manchester with fellow artist, Dave Griffiths. Throughout October he is on a residency at Standpoint Gallery in London.
Castlefield Gallery gratefully acknowledges sponsorship from Frames: Bespoke Picture Framing, Didsbury, Manchester.
Register for free tickets to The Manchester Contemporary register at www.manchestercontemporary.com

Standpoint presentation


Andrew Bracey: presentation and discussion

Events:
27 October 2011 12-6pm: presentation of work in progress
27 October 6.30-8pm Andrew Bracey in discussion with Peter Ashton Jones, artist and co-founding editor of the painting magazine Turps Banana
28 October: presentation of work in progress
Andrew Bracey is intrigued by how we understand and navigate painting. Exploring the medium through film, animation and sculpture, he often employs a historical context through incorporating found traditional imagery within his practice. Sourcing reproductions of specifically figurative paintings, Bracey draws our attention to the classic archetype of twentieth century gallery display and changes the narrative through applied paint.
Combined with this Bracey is interested in exploring the space in which we encounter and engage with painting. During the residency he intends to appropriate scenes from films which represent a gallery experience that do not follow expected behaviour, exposing how various characters interact with the space in comparison to normality of a gallery visit.
Andrew Bracey is the last artist to complete a residency at Standpoint, as part of the 2011 programme.
Bracey graduated with an MA in Fine Art from Manchester Metropolitan University in 2001 and has since exhibited widely in the UK and Europe. He is currently a Senior lecturer in Fine Art at the University of Lincoln and a member of Suite Studio Group in Manchester. Recent solo exhibitions include Animalation, Manchester Art Gallery, Manchester, 2009; Frames, Mid Pennine Gallery, Burnley, 2007; Freianlage in Supernature, Transition gallery, London, 2007;Freianlage, Wolverhampton Art Gallery, 2007. Recent group exhibitions includeCreekside Open selected by Dexter Dalwood, APT Gallery, London, 2011; We Are  All in This Together, Bureau, Manchester, 2011; A Horse Walks into a Bar,Castlefield Gallery, Manchester, 2010; Meanwhile in Manchester, Lombard Method & Grand Union, Birmingham, 2010; Unrealised Potential, Cornerhouse, Manchester, NGCA, Sunderland & Void, Derry, 2010; Global Studio, Bluecoat Gallery, Liverpool, 2010.
Andrew Bracey will also be exhibiting with Castlefield Gallery at The Machester Contemporary on 27 – 30 October.
This special two-day presentation is part of Andrew Bracey’s participation in Standpoint Futures Development Residencies designed specifically for artists based outside of London. The presentation will include a discussion at 6.30pm with Andrew Bracey on Thursday 27 October, and an opportunity to meet and talk to the artist at any time during the two days.
The residency’s chief aims are to provide high quality, individualized opportunities to develop an artists practice and career, and to integrate London and the Regional UK art world to promote dialogue and interchange. Please see residency blog to keep up to date with the progress of each residency http://standpointfutures.tumblr.com/
Further information: Matilda Strang 0207 739 4921 /standpointfutures@btconnect.com

Wednesday 19 October 2011

Top ten Venice Biennale highlights-A completely biased view


  1. TRA – Edge of Becoming at Musee Fortuny was as an exhibition that built upon the magnificence of Infinitium in the same venue two years ago. It is a great achievement to be able to marry contemporary art with art and artefacts conceived and produced across centuries; a far greater one to be able to manage this, whilst not being swamped by the intrinsic interest of the building itself. Instead everything feels as if it belongs here, fantastic juxtapositions between artworks and the building abound, often in most surprising and unexpected ways. The first encounter was an inspired pairing of Michael Borremans’ Red Hand, Green Hand with an early Giacometti. The dominance of the hue in the hands of Borremans’ painting was transferred more subtly to the similar pose of the Giacometti sculpture, which were similarly echoed in the careful lighting to conjure a third shadowed hand centrally placed between painting and sculpture. Each corner produced further artistic treats for the visitor, Shirin Neshat’s captivating Passage was a particular highlight, the brooding Phillip Glass soundtrack drifted down a corridor leading you to ante-chamber of crumbling plaster and brick, where the imagery unfolded and built to the spontaneous semi-circular eruption of the fire finale.Climbing the stairs one was led to the faded opulence of once rich, but now worn tapestries of Fortuny’s palace. One side room was exceptionally curated with Fortuny’s tempera murals providing a backdrop for a suitably theatrical relationship of themed works. Hans Op De Beek’s Staging Silence playfully defied expectations as cliché theatrical/cinematic mise en scene were broken by the artists hands moving miniature scenery around to construct new staged settings. Opposite sat a large scale model by Fortuny of a theatre that had a casual companion in the form of Bonomini’s Allegory of Deception; a painting of an old woman holding before her a mask of a younger woman. Curiously this old woman had green hands, not dissimilar to Borremans’ opening painting. On a further adjoining wall Matthew Barney, in full vaselined garb, looked on from the splendour of a theatre, not unlike Fortuny’s unbuilt model. In another side room one could find a smaller version of the James Turrell in the Arsenale, without the hour long queue, and all the more satisfying for that.Before one ascended the stairs to the second floor, one entered a quiet room where the theatrics of the room mentioned earlier had been stripped back to the single angled spotlight. In Lygia Pape’s Faca de Luz one could enter a small cubicle to become enshrined in a flash of light, created by a slash on the top. And most magically of all Franciabigio’s 16th century painted panel, Saint Francis of Assisi Receiving the Stigmata was lit to echo the Pape piece, with a companion shaft of light only falling upon Assisi as if divine intervention had taken place.
  1. Christian Marclay’s The Clock has justifiably received critical and popular acclaim since it premiered last year, rightly ands widely proclaimed an instant masterpiece. It became a most welcome halfway house in the Arsenale leg of Brice Criger’s LLUMInations (though I was not alone in thinking that it would have been more perfectly located outside the aforementioned constant Turrell queue.) I have little to add to the discussion of Marcaly’s masterpiece, it is one of those rare things, a perfect artwork. Everything is contained within the work itself, to render accompanying text redundant and it rewards the attentive and persistent viewer with building complexity of structure and narrative, there is much behind this deceptively simple idea.My only comment to add is a comparison to the way Marclay appears to have found his imagery and that of the cinema projectionist. I would imagine that they both share an alternate way of viewing a film, one that side tracks the plot in favour of their own particular take on what they need to take from the film. I can imagine Marclay watched hundreds (thousands?) of films with one purpose only, a reference to the time within the plot; whilst a projectionists traditionally would view the silver screen perched high up in the projection box, hyper alert for the tiny cue dot in the right hand corner of the screen. Both know a film intimately for these moments, but would struggle to relate the plot of the whole film, a little like watching Marclay’s infinitely compulsive film.
  1. There were a number of national pavilions that I particularly liked that do not appear to be getting a huge amount of press attention, perhaps making my expectations before encountering them lower. Angel Vargara, representing Belguim, had an interesting take on contemporary painting. The seven deadly sins were all depicted on a huge screen spanning the pavilion’s main hall, displaying appropriated footage from news reports and the like. Over these hurriedly moving images the artist attempted to capture the image in painterly gestures, doomed to failure as the subject chopped from one to another. One was left with an orgy of painterly marks, that occasionally came into focus as the footage looped and an abstract form was married with the representational twin.

4.The Czech/Slovak pavilion had perhaps the most touching and understated display of work. Dominik Lang has been working with his late father’s bronze figurative sculptures to connect them to his own practice with strange juxtapositions to domestic furniture. Broken shards of bronze are united across empty space by their careful placement in adjoining cabinets or a figure is divided and multiplied by it’s relocation within a chamber of mirrors vertically puncturing the bronze. The relationship between son and father and the marrying off their two practices was both poignant and in complete harmony.
5. Marcus Schinwald strange paintings (and newer engagement with film) offer a quietly disturbing sense of the uncanny and curious. Curiously passive painted faces are punctured by outdated medical instruments, attached in painfully matter of fact ways. In the wings to the pavilion two large projected films showed a group of people all trapped in weird cycles of activity. A man struggled to free his foot from a crack in a wall with frantic balletic movements, whilst another tap danced through an army of coloured electrical wires, attempting to dislodge one from his foot. The pavilion was navigated through a labyrinth of walls hovering three foot over the floor, allowing glimpses of dissected audience that interacted with Schinwald’s exhibiton.
6. Thomas Hirchorn produced perhaps the most arresting pavilion with his customary tin foil and packing tape calling attention to and binding together a cross section of contrasting images and objects. On two giant mushroom-like tables were magazines covering the surface. The contrast could not be greater between the two surfaces; on one Jordan and Tom Cruise vied for attention with meaningless tales of their life in copies of Now, Heat and Closer. On the other side were reportages of war and suffering from Time magazine and the like. As one wandered the pavilions the excesses of our western capitalist consumer culture built up as aeroplane seats, coke cans and other detritus were consumed by Hirchorn’s cheap packing materials.Most dominantly of all were the human images consequences of torture, war and corrupt states that dangled bunting-like around the edges of the space. Our response to these images was most pertinently captures by the Swiss artists over the multi-screen panels of a finger insistently scanning through atrocious images of human suffering on an ipad, never able to escape them. How many times have we seen these images on news reports from the comfort of our homes far away from where they are happening and  felt suitably appalled before the next episode of X-factor or Celebrity come dine with me comes on. We are as cheap, shallow and tacky as Hirchorn’s tin foil and parcel tape.
7. Of the British national pavilions I think I was most captured by Karla Black, who was representing Scotland. Her sickly sweet installation (the pungent wafts of fragrant soap was like walking past Body shop or Lush on the high street!) was in perfect harmony with the palazzo that housed it. She had carefully selected materials, colour and the overall placement to fit perfectly with the surrounding. This was achieved to such an extent that it felt like she had painted all the walls the pastel colours associated with her work. When I asked an invigilator if  this was the case, she answered that they had thought the same and had to check images from Martin Boyce installation of two years ago to confirm she had not. I could have sworn the Boyce installation had white walls; such was the complete contrast of the feel of that to Black’s installation. For me it was the detail of her work that won over, in one room a single double loop of clear plastic sheet hovered centrally. As one explored the surface a tiny flick of green appeared in the middle of the two loops, perfectly matching the walls, this was no accident. Is the stuff of a Turner prize winner? As I read this I do start to wonder if I preferred the Mike Nelson after all so I shall stop writing before I scrub out all the above.
8. I could not help but admire Lech Majewski’s digital tapestry-like films that re-imagined Bruegel’s apocalyptic paintings. The church environment certainly helped on appreciate the work and this was not only a technological remake but also one that made you question how much we have moved on as a society when the brutal torture seen in Bruegel and Majewski’s work is still happening today, and still in the name of religion. Poignant stuff that was intensely captivating, if not to my own personal taste.
9. Sigmar Polke’s suite of paintings in the Punta Della Dogana were as arresting as when I first saw them in 2007 in the room now housing the Tinterettos within the Padiglione Centrale. These paintings are truly a masterwork, containing so much richness of subject and painterly gesture; painterly perfection in short. However there is something intensely irritating about viewing Pinault’s collection of art. Inside two fantastic monuments to Venetian architecture are housed a wealth of fantastic art (David Claerbout’s tour de force Algiers and Yang Jiechang’s cheeky update of Chinese scroll paintings also deserve special attention) and yet it is all rather distasteful. It all comes across a bit like that annoying child at school who had everything that he wanted given to him and who appreciated nothing; one gets sick if one eats too many sweets. Or is it just sour grapes on my part? Above all though it is such a treat to be able to sit and admire such masterful work as Polke’s Axial Age.
10. Ok, so there were some other highlights in ILLUMInations and I was pleased to see Haroon Mirza had claimed the Silver Lion for his contribution. The comparison between his two pieces in the exhibition was interesting to note, particularly in terms of his recent representation by the Lisson gallery. In the Padiglione Centrale was a more familiar looking piece of work with trailing wires and Heath Robinson shelves holding up speakers. A throbbing electrical thud accompanied each pulse of a stuttering projected image. In the Arsenale the powerful influence and confidence of the Lisson hinted at an exciting future for this young British artist. In space that mimicked the Monika Sosnowska para-pavilion that housed the other work, Mirza had constructed a much slicker space. Here the effect of his work was even more palpable and tense. A blinding throb of an circular lighting rig built in parallel intensity to an whining drone, before silence of sound and light triggered nervous giggles of the audience.
Elisabetta Benassi’s The Innocents Abroad similarly intrigued, with a darkened room punctuated by the faint glows of several microfiche machines. Each one insensately and mechanically searched for information, that the viewer barely had time to take in. One struggled to link apparently random information of drive-in movie theatres or gambling raids that were revealed to be the back of press photographs. In Shahryar Nashat’s Factor Green a strange green cube, of the variety used in green screen filming, hovered in front of several Tinteretto’s paintings. As the loop began again, a little was explained as we saw the artist (or another protagonist?) open, with a rasping soundtrack, a container that was revealed to contained the green box. He proceeded to manhandle this, until being satisfied with the magician-like hovering. The film had just the right amount of the fantastical, without descending into the overtly theatrical.
Back in the Giardini’s main pavilion Omer Fast’s fascinating film, Five Thousand Feet is Best  played, in the pit below Sosnowska’s previously mentioned star-shaped space. The action switched between the interrogation of a former Predator drone operator and the filmic re-telling of his stories. As more time was spent with these stories we begin to realise that there is a mis-telling and/or mis-casting taking place. So, for example, the colour of the skin of a man changes, “Hey I didn’t mention race”, halway through one episode or the interrogation room changes location after the protagonists cigarette break; whilst odd beeps interrupt and cover over parts of the dialogue, leaving us only guessing at the missing content. The viewer is intrinsically part of Fast’s film, and the film is hyper aware of itself as a construct, “Do these guys have to be here? I didn’t know you’d be filming” is repeated at the start of each story giving a brooding sense of déjà vu.
One was aware of two types of guard in the pavilion. Above our heads Cattelan’s taxidermy pigeons looked down at us, playfully critical of us as viewers and possibly also the organisers, for changing the exhibition so little since their first airing in 1997. The other guard was the more traditional gallery invigilator. Bizarrely whilst one stood permanently on guard of Ryan Gander’s 25 Euro coin, next door school children groped and gouged at Fischli and Weiss’clay works, a strange contrast of value by the audience and organisers. Most present of all was the constant chorus of “NO PHOTO” by the trio of guards in front of Tinteretto’s masterful Last Supper. Something was not right here though. What should have been the masterstroke of Criger’s exhibition was tarnished by that most obvious of things, given the exhibition’s theme. Removed from their church homes and represented low down on the white walls of the hijacked shipyard warehouses the paintings were obscured by the glare of the spotlights lighting them. Ironically given the illuminations of the title and theme, I was left less illuminated by encountering the Tinteretto’s here than within their usual context. A brave move by the curator for sure, but also one that needed a little more sensitivity of the original Venetian master of light.



Saturday 15 October 2011

UnMasterclass 41


At the tail end of 2010 and into the dawn of 2011 a third Tate opened in Britain’s capital, just a stones throw from the Turbine hall. On show were a plethora of familiar art stars work, such as Harry Matisse, Jasper Warhol, Harry Basquiat, Jasper Braque and Harry Picasso. Those eagle eyed among you may have noticed that something is rather fishy here. Artists Jasper Joffe and Harry Pye cheekily hijacked the Tate brand, displaying re-paintings of works from the collection, hence the first name/last name conundrum. The paintings they showed were worthy of this joint or rather hybrid authoring. Strangely one viewed the works with eyes on two artists at once. These were cover versions but more like Hendrix covering Dylan or Cash covering NIN, than Boyzone’s anaemic cover versions or Madonna misguided attempt at American Pie. In short the paintings were recognisably a Richard Prince, Hockney or Rothko, but they were also equally the work of Joffe and Pye as well. Here at UnMasterclass we do not aspire to this end, but can only applaud messrs Joffe et Pye. To view the latest UnMasterclass please click here http://vimeo.com/30600569

Friday 7 October 2011

UnMasterclass 40



“Are you a fine artist and want to become successful and famous?
Would you like to get excellent oil painting and drawing skills?
Would you like to be demanded by fine art galleries, museums and collectors?
Discover the ultimate way to improve your art skills by taking the fine art video course.”

Some may believe these are grand claims for UnMasterclass to make, and those that have seen our previous episodes must surely be smelling a rat. And you would be correct! UnMasterclass has found a (un)rival in the form of The Web Art Academy, an online tutorial video guide on how to paint. Episode one features instructions in to how to create a copy of Jan Van Eyck’s Portrait of Margareta van Eyck. On the promotion for this episode is a statement that we at UnMasterclass cannot but agree with, “Copying from the masterpieces is the best way for you to study and improve your understanding of the secrets of the old masters.” There are 11 further episodes to study over the years subscription for a bargain price of $47 per month and we at UnMasterclass believe that if you would like to truly learn the craft of how to paint properly then you are far better signing up for this than watching our own episodes. However we believe there is a strange paradox in the idea of learning from web based tutorials, in that they do not take you closer to the paintings. The first episode’s claim of learning from the work of past masters is technically correct; though oddly, in our opinion, this tutorial only tells you how to repeat and paint a copied (and furthermore poor web streamed quality) version of the original. Tutees do not go to the gallery, everything is done from the comfort of your own home.
Thomas Crow in his essay Hand-Made Photographs and Homeless Representation offers a further point in relation to how the amateur learns through copying. He discusses how paint-by-numbers kits or practical guides on technique can successfully allow an amateur painter to create a reasonable version of a pre-designed painting. However as Crow argues “When self-taught painters turn to their own subject matter, their commitment to naturalist conventions invariably requires another guide, and that is the photograph. The subjects they are interested in are frequently inaccessible, or simply will not sit still long enough to be captured by an untrained hand. Traced and laboriously rendered portraits of pop stars, athletes, pinups, children, cars, and pets represent the genuine underground of art. What their makers are generally after is a detailed fidelity to appearances that they associate with celebrity illustrators like Andrew Wyeth and the late Salvador Dali” Crow makes many valid and relevant points, but one that draws it back to UnMasterclass and to The Web Art Academy is that increasingly painters are looking to reproductions, or rather the photograph, in order to paint (copy) from. Crow appears derogatory to this approach, perhaps because painters copying from reproductions often take on other expressionistic approaches that take it away from the photograph. It is through the photo realists, and the subject of Crow’s essay, Gerhard Richter, that we, perhaps, see validity in a more critical relationship of painting to photography. I would take one Gerhard Richter (blurred) painting of a photograph over a hundred thousand bedroom paintings of celebrity stars any day.
The lesson here is to learn from painters and paintings, how to use paint, not how to create a set image or composition, once the art of painting is learnt, one can transfer technique to an infinite amount of subjects, without the need to copy. We ask you to take our advice and visit a gallery and see and learn directly from the paintings. The latest episode of UnMasterclass is viewable here  http://vimeo.com/30175820

First Week at Standpoint residency


Where to start? I have been at Standpoint since Monday and looking back it feels a little like a whirlpool of activity has taken place in adjusting from life in Manchester to the big smoke; a whirlpool that very quickly feels normal. I intend to make the most of being in London and all that it offers, without letting the daily practice of being a painter slide away. Which takes me nicely to the fact that I am fortunate to be in London just as the major Richter retrospective starts and to visit this repeatedly is a luxury my manic-multi-gallery packed day visits rarely allows. On Wednesday I went to a talk by Benjamin H. Buchloch at Tate on memory and repression within Richter’s work. One thing has stuck in mind and made it’s way to the pub-based debate in the pub after the talk with friends. Buchloch stated that all the themes and ideas contained within Richter’s oeuvre could be traced back to one painting, Tisch (his ‘first’ painting produced in the West). He went on to maintain that in fact all artist have this one work that contains all their practice’s ideas and any subsequent works are unnecessary except to confirm this one work. I am pretty sure Richter would disagree with this. A Facebook post confirmed that many artists are appalled by this idea – “lazy arti historian crap, sorry”, “What a terrible thought to have to carry with you into the studio everyday - sometimes, but not always, theory can be terribly caustic to practice” or “So flawed and subjective a statement, as to be meaningless”. My own thoughts are that this is an interesting notion, but one for critics to worry about, not artists or else we would all give up now after only being able to reach check mate with their work. However I also wonder what my Tisch might be?
Anyhow back to the residency. The work I plan to produce over the 5 weeks I am here is a continuation of recent work in which I have been replacing the figure in reproductions of classical paintings with a hand painted geometric abstract mass. I intend to focus on the familiarity of the National Gallery’s collection of paintings and use and visit this wonderful place extensively. So on Wednesday I spent a few hours wandering in the labyrinth looking anew at these works and listening in on tours for paintings by Veronese and Massys. I shall be returning to the National regularly during my time in London.
Around the National I also went to several neighbouring galleries and this idea of infusing myself with art whilst in London is vital to be getting the most out of being here. So I also managed to catch the last day of Gordon Cheung’s show at Alan Cristea (I particularly responded to a still life painting which seems to suggest a new line of enquiry), Raqib Shaw at White Cube (art with one purpose, to be bought by billionaires with no taste), Phylida Barlow at Hauser & Wirth (every bit as fabulous as everyone is saying) and Charles Matton at AVA (fabulously intriguing miniatures of studios, libraries and other curious spaces). Then the studio, every day the studio.
Thursday saw me complete my first painting, a (nearly) sacrilegious painting over of Leonardo’s Virgin at the Rocks, I hope that something new is visible in the master’s painting by my additions. Only time can tell. I also met with the Standpoint resident artists over tea and cake and a most interesting möbius-strip like conversation, punctuated by Milo, Peter Jones’ very fine dog’s, stinky farts. After this was the rather odd experience of editing the press release with Matilda for a body of work which is still in the future, something is written, I wonder if it will portray the work I end up producing or if like Buchloch’s talk (supposed to be on chance and intention in Richter’s abstracts) will end up completely differently.
I went to 2 private views last night, out of god knows how many, on first Thursday’s marathon of openings. Sean Edwards was at Limoncello, a gallery I really like for their consistently high quality of artists and shows. I then went around the corner to hear a talk by a long seen friend, Simon Burton, at Arch 402 gallery. Simon said something particularly arresting during his very frank and honest talk about the importance of being unfashionable. This is something I have often thought about and it was interesting to hear his thoughts.
I write this early on a Friday morning at Vulpes Vulpes, the very friendly environment in which I am staying. In a few minutes I shall get the bus to see the Richter show for the first time (I want to get there early to beat the queues) before going on to the studio. Then next week bizarrely my residency moves to Venice for the week where I shall most certainly soak up an unindigestible amount of art. Right I better go and catch that bus.

Tuesday 4 October 2011

Frames in Strip at Transition Gallery at Sluice art fair

I will be showing Frames - Director with the excellent Transition Gallery at Sluice Art Fair, which is happening in London to coincide with Frieze art fair this October, on the weekend of 16&17th. The Frames series of work involved me watching different films garnered from different films lists that all had a different structural reasoning, i.e Best Picture Oscar winners, top ten most profitable films or in the case of the paintings being shown, the top ten (or rather 11) films as voted by Directors in a significant poll. Each film was scrutinised for a single image (out of 24 frames for every second) that would fall outside or not be integral to the plot, certainly something unremarkable or unremembered to a normal viewing of a film. Each image is then transferred back to 35mm leader film strip, albeit this time with hand painted oil paint as opposed to that an image captured by the camera. Neither the names of lists or the films watched are revealed to the viewer. The image is freed from film to become painting. Perhaps.... For more information about Frames please read Chris Clarke's essay here http://www.andrewbracey.co.uk/page25.htm


Transition Gallery will be showing the work alongside other artists including Michael Ajerman, Annabel Dover, Emma Talbot, Mimei Thompson, Jessica Vorsanger and Transition directors, Cathy Lomax, Alli Sharma and Alex Michon. The display sounds like an interesting construct, in Transitions words....


"For Sluice Art Fair Transition is showing Strip, an exhibition made up of groups of specially selected 2D works by 20 artists presented with a distinct nod towards the filmstrip. All of the artists featured in Strip employ a sequential approach to their varying subject matter. But although each ‘strip’ is composed of works made in a series, adjoining frames do not necessarily correspond to each other. There are in fact no traditional narrative structures; instead it is for the viewer to create their own connectivity."


For more details please visit http://www.transitiongallery.co.uk/htmlpages/strip.html
and for more details about Sluice art fair, please visit http://www.sluiceartfair.com/