On the occasion of Ad-Infinitum Part l Vegas Gallery London 19.03.2009 - 19.04.2009
In recent years there has been much curatorial preoccupation with the
reemergence of gothic sensibilities and dark iconography within
contemporary visual art. Curators have grouped the work of a broad
range of artists together and asked us to consider this tendency - with
its deathly preoccupations- from various positions. Often it has been
from the position in which the tendency denotes, curators postulate, an
overall disillusion with positivist social aspirations. Or perhaps the
tendency denotes the undeniable collapse of The Enlightenment for a
second and arguably final time.
Many such overviews have focused on the surface; on the aesthetic and
content similarities of contemporary practices, most notably the
reemergence of a dark gothic aesthetic sensibility or obvious narrative
content.
Ad-Infinitum Part I, is the first in a series of projects that
aims to consider this current curatorial notion from another angle, as
it were. Not from the angle of works that sit readily in the category
of 'the gothic', but from the angle of works that do not. It certainly
acknowledges the tendency towards a certain disillusion or
non-engagement with humanistic meta-narratives and humanist models for
technological and social progress in the work of contemporary artists.
However, rather than examine this tendency in the context of a common
aesthetic or content drive, it seeks to turn its gaze on the ways in
which themes emerge in the work of disparate contemporary artists whose
work shares little obvious similarity in practice, content, form or
aesthetics.
What their work does share - and in some cases, this even extends to
the visually dominant tendency towards the gothic- is a certain
disillusion, questioning or even disinterest in the sense that entirely
humanistic narratives of meaning remain sufficient or tenable to
account for the contemporary condition. Their seemingly unrelated work
nonetheless suggests that explanations for human existence and its
purpose are insufficiently satisfied by philosophies or doctrines that
contain their explications within the realm of the human, the rational,
the scientific and technological.
In some cases these notions are underpinned by a questioning or even
refusal of art as a vehicle for social or humanistic discourse. We may
encounter a certain insistence that art and artistic practice can remain
a platform for exploring or expressing urges that have little to do
with rational, social understandings of existence and, instead, may yet
remain an uncynical possibility for exploring the philosophical,
cosmic, mystical or even unfashionably religious drives of sentient
beings. If these works make use of a different visual language from the
visually dominant (gothic) tendency, then it is also arguable that it
might be because they eschew the dark nihilistic negativity of many
such works within that trope in favour of developing a discourse that
is without irony or cynicism: these are works by artists seeking to
genuinely and seriously engage with 'the bigger questions' that have
been systematically edited from popular cultural languages over the
past four decades in favour of 'hip' and 'cool' irony and sarcasm.
In some cases, the clearly philosophical or even religious connotations
and aspects of the work is evident. In others, the practice itself, if
never religious or religiose, gives central place to the infinite
possibilities of the uncontained universe; the artists abandoning the
role of authors of objects, in favour of facilitating a highly directed
gaze at the forces of unruly nature and the chaotic universe that
exists on every level from the sub-molecular to the cosmic.
Yet, whether working with more traditional media and object-making,
taking an interventionist documentary approach to fundamental questions
about existence or assuming a practice in which the role of the artist
is to work with existing chaos rather than to determine it, all of the
included artists directly engage us with the notion that dominant
narratives and explanations for existence in pure scientific or human
terms remain insufficient to gratify our will to meaning.
Alex Hudson is a young British painter whose practice was developed at a time when he and his contemporary students were grappling to process momentous events occurring in the world around them. Growing out of seminal works that Hudson made from photographs of the 'ground zero' site in the aftermath of the World Trade Center's destruction, he sought to make a concerted effort to approach the subject matter in a way that was neither naïve nor ironic. The work -and the subsequent body of works he has been producing since then- uses the language of quasi-representational painting of the last three decades. Yet, dark and brooding as they may be, there is something else going on within them. Any impression of 'the gothic' soon reveals itself to be somewhat misplaced. For, Hudson's works attempt to engage with the contemporary psychological and spiritual landscape with a certain optimism; a desire to cast off skepticism and cynicism in the hope that some epiphany beyond mundane humanity might occur.
Using imagery that is uncannily similar to other movements in which the need for a new hope was essential - from British modernism in the Post World War II period to German visionary architectural drawings immediately following the apocalypse of the First World War- Hudson's works similarly appropriate an almost religiose vernacular as churches appear or things that don't really look like churches are equated with altars. Cynicism is cast off as the dark and depressive atmospheres that abound simultaneously offer painted light sources that might indicate some form of renewal or rebirth. At a time when it is far cooler to be pessimistic, cynical or, at the very least, to sit on the fence when any question of human destiny arises, Hudson is producing work that steadfastly indicates a desire -perhaps even a need- to believe in some possibility of hope or redemption. Like Bauhaus architects envisioning a new world that needed building in the aftermath of societal and psychological destruction, there is a certain fragility or perhaps even illogical denial in the visions that are offered up.
© Ken Pratt 2009