Beyond the Canvas Blog

Beyond the Canvas

Aug 16, 20202 min read

A few thoughts on Among the Trees - Hayward Gallery, London

Updated: Feb 14, 2022

Ever heard of that theory according to which trees are immortal? No? Then you clearly do not know me very well. Of course trees are not immortal, but I choose to believe that they are. The reason is quite simple: in a world where man keeps devising new and more effective ways to destroy nature, the fact that some trees have survived for thousands of years is a pretty good indicator that they are being rather successful in their quest for immortality.

The first work I saw upon entering the dimly-lit gallery was a stunning Robert Longo, which I had already encountered and fallen in love with in Moscow in 2016. Oh joy. This is not just a tree Longo has drawn, this is a spiritual organism, a tentacled being that lives and breathes in sync with us all. In fact, I believe this may well be our own beating heart.

The exhibition is an overall pleasing exploration of the depth and complexity of our relationship with the arboreal world. The artists' visions are illustrated through a well-balanced mix of sculptures, paintings, photographs and videos. Some of the pieces, e.g. the above-mentioned Longo, Doig's almost abstract wood and Rondinone's reclaimed olive tree, are truly magnificent. After months of staying at home, getting lost in the Hayward Gallery (finally in the company of some of my best friends) proved hugely rewarding.

On reflection, I must however denounce what feels like an element of inconsistency in the delivery of the exhibition's messages. There is a disconnect between the show in the Lower Gallery, which is a stunning, if at times slightly repetitive, visual celebration of the majesty of trees. While the exhibit in Upper Gallery does not shy away from highlighting the devastating impact of human activity on the life of trees, it does fall short of representing the real emergency as effectively as it could and probably should have. For example, the subject of deforestation deserved to be illustrated more explicitly, and I felt the glowing embers of Roxy Paine's charred trunks looked too domestic in their desolation and failed to evoke the scale of the emergency.

Just so you know, this show has done nothing to diminish the strength of my irrational belief. Trees are immortal and that is the hill I'm going to die on.

#amongthetrees #immortal #haywardgallery #contemporaryart #london #artblog #beyondthecanvasblog

Robert Longo Untitled (Sleepy Hollow), 2014

Peter Doig The Architect’s Home In The Ravine, 1991

Tacita Dean Crowhurst II, 2007

Toba Khedoori Untitled, 2018

Rodney Graham Gary Oak, Galiano Island, 2012

Eija-Liisa Ahtila Horizontal – Vaakasuora, 2011

Mariele Neudecker Much Was Decided Before You Were Born, 2001

Ugo Rondinone cold moon (2011)

Jennifer Steinkamp Blind Eye (2018)

Roxy Paine Desolation Row, 2017

Beyond the Canvas

Aug 1, 20202 min read

A heathen's pilgrimage to the National Gallery

Updated: Feb 14, 2022

Today I'm celebrating my first trip into central London after 5 months of mostly staying at home. The Titian: Love, Desire, Death exhibition, now extended to January 2021, is unique and should not be missed in that in reunites for the first time all the six Titian paintings inspired by Ovid’s ‘Metamorphoses’. They are, of course, wonderful and everyone should go see them: book your slot, turn up 15' early and wear a mask - it all worked really seamlessly for me. But I now realise it was something bigger and deeper that lured me to Trafalgar Square. The truth is I had missed being inside a museum, this one in particular, and today was like coming home to a place of wonderful familiarity and much needed comfort.

Museum-going patterns increasingly resemble ritualistic experiences of cathartic quality, and I believe most of it is a response to the architecture. Whether borrowing from the monumental structures of the past or making a bold statement via cutting edge contemporary shapes, museums often look like places of worship. It is only natural that the behaviours we adopt when we visit them mimic religious rituals. In the case of the National Gallery, the love I have for the collection is such that I needed to be physically and spiritually reunited with some of my favourite paintings and the people in them (some details below). A post I saw yesterday on the Gallerie dell'Accademia's instagram account very timely reminded me to defy my shrinking attention span and to always do the artists and the paintings justice by taking the time to properly observe and appreciate what's in front of me. Like a faithful kneeling before the altar, today I did exactly that.

The pandemic forced the National Gallery to close its doors for an unprecedented 111 days. In the United States, it is predicted that a third of museums may never open again. The institutions that will be able to reopen are facing drastically decreased revenues and are likely to be operating in the red, resulting in substantial layoffs and a devastating impact on the community. And while I am aware we alone cannot save the museum industry, I feel this quote by the illustrator Maira Kalman sums up my feelings and intentions: "A visit to a museum is a search for beauty, truth, and meaning in our lives. Go to museums as often as you can."

#nationalgallery #museum #titian #london #painting #italianrenaissance #artblog #artblogger #beyondthecanvasblog

"Darling, I am home."

Bronzino, detail from Portrait of a Young Man, c. 1550-55

Titian, detail from Portrait of a Lady (La Schiavona), c. 1510-12

Andrea del Sarto, detail from Portrait of a Young Man, c. 1517-18

Bronzino, detail from An Allegory with Venus and Cupid, c. 1545

Titian, detail from Portrait of Gerolamo (?) Barbarigo, c. 1510

Giovanni Battista Moroni, detail from Portrait of a Lady, c. 1556-60

Paolo Veronese, detail from The Dream of Saint Helena, c. 1570

Beyond the Canvas

Jul 27, 20202 min read

Dwelling: In This Space We Breathe, Khadija Saye (1992-2017)

Updated: Feb 14, 2022

‘The series was created from a personal need for spiritual grounding after experiencing trauma. The search for what gives meaning to our lives and what we hold onto in times of despair and life changing challenges.’ - Khadija Saye

To most of you, Grenfell Tower won't ring any bells. To Londoners, its mention immediately evokes a raging blaze, a preventable tragedy, and the tragic loss of 72 innocent lives, the victims of social inequality and injustice. Khadija Saye, 24 years old, was one of them.

The Gambian-British artist, who was also known as Ya-Haddy Sisi Saye, had achieved early recognition for her tintypes, images processed on thin sheets of metal coated with wet collodion, a technique that was popular in the late 19th century. Khadija was invited to exhibit her series Dwelling: In This Space We Breathe in the Diaspora Pavilion of the 2017 Venice Biennale, where she was the youngest artist.

I am mesmerised by these hauntingly beautiful vintage looking images in which Saye interrogated her heritage and explored the roots of her dual faith (her mother, who also perished in the fire, was a Christian, and her father is Muslim). She spoke of her practice as a way to address ‘the deep-rooted urge to find solace in a higher power’.

Launched in honour of Khadija, Breath is Invisible is a public art project that aims to tackle the lack of diversity in the UK art sector. Until August 7th, they are celebrating Khadija's work with a display of her photographs at 236 Westbourne Grove in Notting Hill, mere blocks from where she lived and so prematurely lost her life.

#khadijasaye #breathisinvisible #photography #blackartist #diaspora #venicebiennale #grenfell #art #artblog #artblogger #beyondthecanvasblog