Window of Opportunity

Duccio Di Buoninsegna, Flagellation, 1308ca
Tempera on wood panel,
Museo dell' Opera del Duomo, Siena, Italy

Definition of "Window of opportunity" from an on-line source:

Idioms: Fig. a brief time period in which an opportunity exists.

What we see in this image is what our friend Duccio must have thought to be an incredible breakthrough in the much sought-after use of perspective in painting at that time. Like Giotto, Duccio was a pupil of Cimabue, the undisputed pioneer of the creation of the third dimension according to the biographer and first art historian Giorgio Vasari.

It was the XIV century in Italy, and religious painting was greatly influenced by Byzantine examples in which flat, uncanny figures of Madonnas with Baby floated about with no chiaroscuro in their clothes nor any shadow on the ground. In short: no sign of humanity was to be recognised in such icons representing the Divine, and the Italians did what they do best: copying, and re-elaborating in better quality. Little by little, the use of perspective opened a window of opportunities in figurative representation, bringing Gods and Saints back to reality, down from the heavenly sphere to mingle with the common people who, in turn, felt closer to them.

Now, this image nowadays makes us smile a little, because we can see that something is wrong with it: Pilate is neither inside nor outside, with his arm outstretching in front of the column; we can tell the construction of the "box" hosting the scene is weird, whereas the layers of the attending people land on no floor, like cards laid on a table. Despite Duccio's efforts, the image is still flat; it would have taken at least another century to get, for example, to this.

After all this I hope interesting stuff, you may be wondering why I have chosen this particular image and am posting this particular post. First of all, Habda was inspired by the image - during one of her visits to the National Gallery - which can be used as a tool leading to develop free interpretations of the concept  "wrong perspective". This triggered a whole series of thoughts that the other curators and I are going to develop into shows, in another window, starting at the end of September. 

Apparently, windows really are receptacles of opportunities at the moment. 

Regarding the wrong perspective, let me tell you something more: it's not that Duccio wasn't aware of the wrongness of his image; he deliberately chose to emphasize Pilate's death sentence through the gesture, even if this literally had to come out of the scene. In my opinion, this makes a huge conceptual difference. On the basis of this, what would be the wrong perspective, his or ours?

The Stories Behind the Opening

Wednesday morning, 9:30 am at the University.

In Unit 2, Will is squatted on the floor, manoeuvring cables and plugs next to a black hand painted plinth, under Sophie's gaze: the loop of the video Dancing on Kelkule' (B-END) isn't working because of a missing remote, and she's just back from Argos where she bought a new DVD player with a remote; now it's just the case to understand which cable goes in which plug. Meanwhile, Francesca is standing on the ladder, cleaning the dusty and so far neglected surface of the spotlights. We've spent the previous days scraping the floor, then polished by the cleaners, sanding the wall and re-painting it: the long, rectangular gallery looks fresh and new.

All the works are up and ready but three: Habda is gone to Charlotte's studio to collect two and is due to come in at 12-ish. We are adding a new piece, Night Gown, that the artist has just finished, because the left hand side wall next to Dylan's installation looks a bit empty. For a moment, setting up a show looks like furnishing a home. You notice an empty space above the sofa: you buy a mirror or something in a frame. For a great collector, that would be a painting.

The other missing work is THE Odyssey. Not ready yet.

The day before, I had my very first long face when I discovered that the MDF panel was painted at 4.30 pm and was going to take all night to dry up. Moreover, the switches' plates didn't have their gloss yet. That meant finishing the work on Wednesday, the opening day, by 6 pm. Hah.

9:35 am.

My long face and I are at the spray workshop in order to beg Andy, who's swamped with other work, to spray finish the plates, which will dry in two hours (two hours!) We exchange pleasantries, and then Andy makes my morning by saying that he did the job at 8:30 am and we can collect the plates in half an hour or so. I jump back downstairs to meet D.V., who is now officially helping Silvia and has been nominated our guardian angel: a skilled technician, practical and direct person, he will reveal himself to be an essential add. We go in search of a gun...for hot melt glue, not to shoot anyone of course.

11:30 am.

The panel is dried and ready on trestles in the workshop in front of the spray finishing room. Silvia and D.V. are inserting switches in the holes, which click perfectly in place. The gun is not warming up. It takes 10 minutes before realising that the plug isn't working. New plug. The gun works. At 11:46, we have our first test of gluing a plate to a table, to see if it holds. It does. More or less.

12:07 pm.

Back in Unit 2. The video loop works, but there are problems with the plinth crashing the cable and stopping the connection. A big, black, heavy TV sits atop of the plinth and has to be removed every time a new arrangement is made. Nonetheless, Will doesn't loose his high spirit. I get a text from Habda: all well, she is on her way with the works. If we need anything just let her know. Same text from Clementina, who will come in the afternoon. Fran is adjusting the projector's position for Gusztav and Katja's video Transposed Bodies, which in the meantime has been kept playing: although none of us speaks German, I think we now know the lines by heart.

12:33 pm.

I go back to the workshop room, which is 5-7 minutes walk from Unit 2, to see how the plates gluing is going. One line is done. The lines are 21. The switches 160. One line per hour makes...I suddenly realise that the work is proceeding very slowly because of the accuracy Silvia is putting in choosing the right colour combination among the six selected. I make her promise to speed up, then I regret saying that: beautiful things are always slow. From the back of my mind, I hear a voice shrieking: No.Time.For.Cheap.Poetry.Damnit!

2:30 pm.

I bring the guys something to eat and have my sandwich along the way. Two lines done. But, most of the plates have been arranged, it's just a matter of gluing them. 

3:05 pm.

Back in Unit 2. Charlotte's works are up and look amazing, I may make some more considerations in a minute. On D.V.'s suggestion, I am putting the screws in the wall for Odyssey in advance so, if they really finish last minute, at least we will save time on the hanging. Will, who in the end managed to fix the video but isn't quite done yet, and I diligently take all the measurements according to D.V.'s instructions, and mark the four holes for the screws. 

4:16 pm.

I spend at least half an hour to check that the holes are on the same line: not easy when you have a 224 cm long work and a spirit level measuring only one meter.

I need a string. And blue tack. There was plenty of it but I can't find it anymore (I will find it two months later, in the back pocket of my shopping trolley. And I have the suspect it was actually me who put it there). While the others start to clean up the space from tools and additional dust, I go to buy some more tack justincase and to see what the situation is with the work.

4:30 pm.

Still gluing. Some of the plates have started being temperamental and refuse to stick. The three bottom lines are all done. Plus the first two and some other random plates. I receive a phone call from Fran saying if I wanted to go home with her and relax a bit. I thank her and decline.

5:05 pm.

The corridor outside the workshop bears the marks of my pacing back and forth. Inside, the guys are pitching on.

5:23 pm.

I receive a phone call. What.Is.The.Piece.At? I am not surprised by the hint of impatience in his voice. My calm wears off for a second, but I reassure him that we are almost there, the screws are in the wall already, and all we have to do is to pop the work onto...I don't see any screws in the wall, is the answer.

What?

There are no screws in the wall.

Oh, brilliant. After having pulled myself together, I ask to speak to Will, who explains to me that he prefers to see the work before putting screws, just in case it needs to be moved...I give up for a couple of minutes and report to Silvia and D.V. They urge me to put the screws in the wall.

5:31 pm.

I call Will again. Same conversation. I feel like hot metal between two anvils, and about to be squeezed like a lemon. I run for it, back to Unit 2, and can feel my throat drying off. When I get in breathless, I am not even able to speak: Pu...Scr...heh...Wall...No...W! And I also remember to say Pls.

While GoodWill does that, I quickly fix the video camera that has to film everyone activating the switches in place, on an existing ledge above Russel's work. There is just a plastic string holding it in place, plus loads of blue tack. God bless the Blue Tack. Wish me luck.

5:47 pm.

The screws are in the wall. Will and I are on our way to collect the work. As soon as he and D.V. lift it, a couple of plates fall off.

5:51 pm.

People stare and cars honk while a panel with 160 coloured switches floats about, carried by two rather exhausted guys. Silvia and I waddle behind, hoping not to have to grab other fallen plates. We miss the shortcut to Unit 2 and take a parallel street. It seems to take forever.

5:54 pm.

Artwork approaching! I sprint forward, open Unit 2's door wide and declare: "They're here". There are people in the gallery. Thank God it's just the artists. The others wait in front of the work's spot to finally see it. Great expectations are in the air.

5:55 pm.

Odyssey enters Unit 2. Just one last effort and...pop! It perfectly sits on the screws. It's straight. It holds. A spontaneous though slightly exasperated applause bursts out. Fallen plates still to be fixed.

5:57 pm.

Video camera is on and records my panicked face and waving hands as the first thing. I cross the gallery carrying the ladder and bump in a couple of acquaintances who came to see the show...early. I am not dressed nicely, have no make up, and my cheeks are bright red. But I definitely feel relieved.

6:00 pm.

SORRY, WE'RE OPEN.

(art) Community Matters

 It's frustrating.

When you are on a very expensive Master, you have to keep a job to carry on; and, if that job is art-related and you do like it, things get even more complicated for your studies.

In short: when I am at work I can't be around to help for the show, and so are some other curators. Fran and Will, our handy ones, are doing their best to get everything ready for the two days installation next week (and I will definitely keep you posted on that), but the truth is that there aren't enough technicians around to build, saw, glue, cut, staple, etc. because they are all busy for the upcoming show the Fine Arts students will have at the end of the academic year, meaning June. When you are organising a show, you feel like you're the only one on earth doing so. In this case, waking up and DIY are essential.

Well, I guess we were in trouble. Silvia's work was due to be ready yesterday, with the panel glued and ready to be sprayed together with onehundredandsixty switches. Instead, we're running a little late on schedule, which never is a good thing because I am dead sure we'll have more issues during installation. Then, what? 

Ah, let me tell you about the small art world: a willing extra hand is always there. 

Yesterday, Silvia and I were having this conversation:

Si - We would really need an extra hand...

sy - I know... Actually, a friend of mine sent me an email the other day recommending someone who just moved to London...

Si - Oh, yeah?

sy - And I made contact with him: he was very kind and said to call him if we ever needed an hand.

Si - Ah, maybe we can try... Otherwise, a friend of mine, too, wanted to introduce me to a friend of his who can be of help here... His name was... can't remember. What's your guy's name?

sy - D.V.

Si - (stares)

sy - What??

Si - (laughs hysterically) That's him!

sy - No way!

Si - Yes!

They say London is a big, alienating metropoli. I don't quite agree.

It is actually difficult to see friends unless you make an early appointment but, in the end, you can just bump into people by chance. The strong network in the often-neglected-by-the-system art world has always amazed me, there always is a friend of a friend knowing another friend who has met a friend who knows a friend of yours. And it is nice to get someone helping and solving problems because of that.

Thank you, D.V.!

The Odyssey and other journeys

We are a week away from the opening.

When I think about how quick all that time passed, I can go nuts. From now on, I will commit myself and put one post per day, just to keep everyone up to date. Thank you for following us so far.

Now, just before collapsing on the bed, let's talk about the Odyssey. 

I am referring to Silvia's work title, which is the product of how the piece was born and why. I am not going to tell you all about it at once, though...better coming to the show to appreciate it in full! Today, we experienced the actual making of and saw it unfold and live before our eyes, at least in pieces. A big THANK YOU to the technicians at London Met wood workshop, Stuart and Jennyve in particular, for all their help today: we couldn't have made it without you guys and your patience. If you remember this post, you'll know now that we found a way to have this incredible piece on show.

When I left Silvia dealing with saws and messy measurements and entered our office, I was delighted to find Nathalie's work delivered: two collages, a big and a small one, very different from each other and therefore absolutely interesting. One in fact looks like a proper environment, almost another space with round elements floating in it regardless of perspective or gravity rules. The first word that came to my mind was: pop. And then, equilibrium. Peace.

Francesca is working on the screen for the projection of Guszstav and Katja's video. Today the built frame was delivered and we also have the black out material. The idea is, for the screen, to be perpendicular to the wall, like a floating canvas and work like a door, with hinges on the wall that allow it to be open or close, according to necessities.

We mustn't forget that Unit 2 will host also the talk and performances by, respectively, Cesare and Sophie, therefore we will need space. Literally. There's always a negotiation with the space.

We sorted out who's delivering what work and when for this and next week, and learned that Dylan is going neon. At the beginning I misunderstood and imagined a structure made of light, whereas what Habs was talking about is the colour of the structure. This activated Silvia and an interaction between artists begun: which colours shall she paint her switches in order not to clash with neon orange?
We'll know the answer to this question quite soon-ish.

Activities (and Inactivities)

The picture here is a little homage to Jannis Kounellis

Hello. Minus eleven.

Things have been sorted before this forthcoming bank holiday, so we are ready to take what is coming next week.

Silvia Iorio has arrived and, with her, arrived the switches. That is just one in a hundred and something, still to be painted. It is quite exciting to see bits and pieces of a work before it is set into place, which should happen at some point next week.

We've been talking to technicians for a big plywood panel to host them in the final installation, arranging dimensions and even granted a studio for Silvia where she will be able to assemble the work.
Can't wait to see it finally in place. Check.

Not only the mailer, but also the lovely catalogue and postcards have been sent off last Wednesday via post. People should receive it just after May Bank holiday. Time Out has been alerted about the show on Tuesday night, just one day before the deadline for the listings.
Check.

Charlotte's work is on the way. Really looking forward to seeing it as it is very small and intimate. We'll probably find it in our office when we go back to work on Wednesday. Check.

Martina and Nathalie should have their work ready too and will bring it in next week at some point, very close to the opening. We have a nice scale model of Unit 2 in our office made by our Francesca and had spent the latest weeks arranging mini-artworks mock up around. We seem to have very straightforward ideas about the hanging. Check.

Some very nice vinyls of the show's title and dates are being ordered by Habda for the door. Not in England, because they're too pricy, but from abroad. They should arrive just on time, unless another volcano blows up. Check.

Russel is probably buying the white wash paint for the window in this very moment, whereas Silvia is hunting for spray paint and varnish around Soho, with a map in one hand and some more switches in the other. Check.

Dylan and Sophie have been in touch, too. Their work will be a nice surprise. Katja and Gusztav are coming from Berlin for the opening with all their family: thanks again to the Goethe Institut for their support. Check.

Cesare didn't let me know if he needs a projector for his talk. Eeek!

First Meeting: where we stand

I know, it is a bit too late for this since we had our first meeting...hum...two weeks ago now! But, as you might have perceived by now, I do like blogging and would like this experience to remain somewhere, even lost in the internet's mesh.

It was the 10th March, a grey afternoon, when this show finally took on some kind of definitive form, which now needs to be adjusted, polished or even reviewed. We went to The Big Chill Bar on Brick Lane, perfect if you are on a tight budget but nonetheless need something to eat to get the brain spinning. Maybe we had no idea that we were to spend all the afternoon there. The first point of the meeting was: which artists do we want and why? And there, our coherence of selection finally showed: five different heads came up with eight/nine very different artists who, thought, share similar concerns about the identity of the space we are trying so hard to nail down.

We started considering Unit 2's space in particular as active/inactive: show/no show; like a brain in a body and its various connections, a mental space. This clicked with Sophie Vent's practice of mapping: a map is a type of space, a way of setting boundaries and crossing them. She will identify a map of the endorphin when it's released in the body and then translate it to a dance with the collaboration of a choreograph. Will thinks her idea to have the choreography danced by children and filmed on video is great. Going on on Unit 2, we already said that the access is restricted: the gates will be opened during the opening, but then only people with budget will be admitted in. So one question might be: who is actually going to see the show? That's when Russel Chater steps in: he is "seeking to explore spaces and states that are in between or beyond". He will cover the window with a white element used to cover derelict spaces, blocking the view from outside. During the opening, people will be invited to draw or write on it, leaving a trace on this temporary space and, most important, allowing people from the street to peek into the gaps and take a glimpse of the space. Habda also proposed other two artists, Charlotte Bracegirdle (whose practice is already explained here) and Nathalie Guinamard: with her, we enter the realm of displacement; she works with collage, selecting unaltered sections of interiors and exteriors and seeing how they work in juxtaposition: spaces in between become even more important than the visible space itself; perhaps she will work on what she'll see in-between Unit 2, and we'll hopefully discover new connotations.

Although her work will certainly be the most complicated to install, Silvia Iorio is still up with her switches installation, described here. The lamp bulbs will be all outside Unit 2 and, apart from some that we'll try to keep visible, when someone presses the button imagination will take the lead to identify where a lamp bulb is actually going on and off. Light will cross the space's boundaries, showing it for what actually is: infinite. The space as interface, meaning point of interaction, is represented by the video artists Katja Pratschke and Guszstav Hamos, whom Francesca met at the Tate. It may seem that the body and its connections are the protagonists again, but in this case it is the space of the video as a medium that is questioned through the display of still and moving images. Last but not least, Martina Geccelli, sniffed out by Clementina. A German artist with an Italian name, Martina works with photography in connection with architectural and sculptural conditions. She shoots everyday, banal objects like books or cardboard boxes to show their often hidden relationship. We all liked very much the picture of two cardboard boxes arranged upside-down, holding up in a precarious balance enhanced by their almost touching flaps. Another kind of space, defined by its limitations, the physical outlines and that in between.

Wow. A lot of concepts have been dished out here, but personally I see no discrepancy between our artists. I see something that has just started to build up. Now we would need someone authoritative, a dead or alive critic, with a strong "space" concept to place at the beginning of the critical text, in order to convince us all that this is the right track.

Isn't it?

Transposed Bodies

Katja Pratschke and Gusztav Hamos

Fremdkorper (Transposed Bodies), video, Germany, 2002.

Based on the Thomas Mann novella The Transposed Heads, the film recounts the story of two inseparable friends, Jan and Jon, and their shared love of Marie. Inspired by the affinity and alienation of photos and film images, the film quite deliberately draws a line between the inside and the outside of bodies, between moving and non-moving images, between medical imaging techniques and photography. The protagonist's bodies, or more correctly the skin that covers them, is the interface between these two worlds.

The 111 photograph of the novel adopt the aesthetic of the French Nouvelle Vague films: some of the photos have been constructed in imitation of cinematic originals (such as the mirror situation from Bresson's film "Lancelot du Lac") or the clear quotation from "Jules and Jim". In each individual image, Transposed Bodies points beyond its context, from frame to frame, unfolding a narrative space.

Posted by Francesca

Black and White Berlin

Last week we went to Berlin with our tutor for a four days full immersion in the art scene.

It was really great. Berlin, which not all of us visited before, looked like a black and white photograph: the sky was grey and the streets covered in snow, salt, ice and dog's dung.

The presence of the war strikes you there like nowhere else: missing houses, bullet holes, silence and cranes everywhere. I had the sensation that Berlin never fully recovered from that, including the heavy heritage the war brought along.

But the art scene is something different: it is like East London in its golden days. Not spoiled yet, vibrant, affordable and with a definitely different attitude. We met curators and artists, and all were keen to talk to us open hearted about their different experiences, even if this required a good deal of chance and improvisation. In plain words, less academism and more generosity. A big, international artist community is operative in Berlin; I would have never imagined to catch up with some of my peers, totally by chance.

Of course, this brought new lymph to the show: we met Italian artists Silvia Iorio and Cesare Pietroiusti. Me, Clem and Fra went to Cesare's talk at the NGBK and found his dissertation about how he conceives the space truly inspiring. I will just quote one single sentence from that night, which in my opinion says it all:

"When I was eight, my family and my grandparents used to live next door to each other. Every night, I would go to bed at the same time and my Grandmother would knock from the other side of the wall, just to wish me goodnight. I then started to think about how I could reach the other side to go and see her whenever I wanted, and the most obvious way was to dig a hole in the wall. I would hide under my bed and work on it with an accomplice friend of mine. When my mother discovered it, she wasn't very happy. I have quoted this episode because I think that my whole artist career is an attempt to get to the other side of that wall, but I am still stuck in the middle."

Silvia is an old friend of mine, even from high school. Our paths always crossed since then, and always by chance. It was a pleasure to find her in Berlin. We shared a table at the traditional German restaurant Max & Moritz and got totally taken away by the description of her work. Science and art, in a charming mix. She told us about how she, herself, tried to defy space's boundaries by using light as a mean of communication. She created a work with colored switches connected to lamp bulbs which can be dislocated beyond the gallery space - in a building nearby, in another room, even in another area - and can be turn on or off, perhaps used to send a message. Space. On. Off. Something clicked here.

The issue of the space

Hum.

I have been surfing the net for an image of Unit 2 Gallery, the place where we are going to install the show in a few months' time. This is all I have found, which gives absolutely no idea of the space we have to confront with. We popped in the other day to see the present show (which isn't on the website by the way: no updates since April 2009) and found ourselves walking into a narrow and long room, with a glass window and door at the bottom.

The only access is a door behind the University's gates, which are accessible only if you are a student and possess a card. Should you forget your card home more than three times, access will then be denied to you. Habda asked if the front door on the street could be opened, to facilitate people's access, and the answers were: "Yes of course" and "Absolutely no". We still have to find out which is the correct one.

The relationship with the space is quite an interesting point each curator has to consider sooner or later. The artworks can just be traditionally exhibited on the walls, or put in a tight dialogue with the space itself, which can be altered, changed, according to the nature of the show. There seem to be no written rules of display, and I personally do think that sometimes a good setting just comes from a right sensation "in your guts", like some dealers like to say.

Some of us are very interested in the space, especially with the concept of active and inactive. Unit 2 is an exhibition space inside a public building, like a brain in a head, and this already puts it in a peculiar position. Artists who work on the space, investigating it, modifying its perception, have been proposed by Habda. She sent a link today to a very interesting artist, Russel Chater. He works with displays holding nothing, playing with the notion of the Arcade and realizing objects between minimalist, formalist and kitsch aesthetic.

Clementina is really interested in the concept of the maze, and would like to use it as a display device, whereas Francesca took some examples of Theo Vandoesburg 's paintings and showed them to us like they were a map of a space seen from above.

I won't give away what Will is working at, instead, because he may blog it himself. Come on, mate!

As for me...well, I have a very complicated relationship with the space, it's still kind of tough to me and it shouldn't interfere with the artworks too much. Therefore, I am still working on it.