Friday, October 12, 2007

Steve Kirby: The Joining Run

Steve Kirby: Between Choice and Chance

Art is that moment at which life can touch chaos, most joyously… art is that momentary
opening up to chaos where we can enjoy a fragment of chaos, now bound safely, in a
frame. In art we come closest to enjoying chaos without being destroyed by it... And this
is how art can return us to that unliveable from which we came and gives us a
premonition of an unliveable to come.
Elizabeth Grosz, Sensation: The Earth, a People, Art, lecture given at Faculty of Architecture, University of Sydney, 2 August 2007.

I’m going to start this catalogue essay with an unusual confession, which is, when I
visited Steve Kirby’s studio to view the works for this exhibition, one of the paintings
made me cry. I’m not accusing the painting of being morbid, or sad, or painful, and nor
would I anticipate that anyone else would have the same reaction. I can’t explain why
The Joining Run made me feel so sad. Generally I’m not in the habit of crying in front of
paintings, and Steve’s work tends to provoke feelings of joy rather than sadness; the
jewel like colours are spun gossamer across the surfaces of the works, often in
compositions reminiscent of lace, or marquisette jewellery. Generally I’d say that Steve’s
paintings embody a life affirming delight in the world and the capacity of paint to stretch
the eye and imagination of the viewer beyond a representation of the existing world into
remaking new worlds and new possibilities of seeing, sensing and living.

Kirby’s paintings hang somewhere just on the edge of meaning; composed of intricate
forms that remind us of things, that we can almost name, but then slip away, just like the
symmetry of much of his compositions, hinted at and then evaded. The forms that emerge
in his work are protean, reminiscent of marine life, or cells, or even fleshy protuberances
like buttocks, encased in visceral linear forms, which take our eye away from the point of
naming what they are, and into the strange rhythms of the painting itself, patterns
spreading across our field of view, marking out, filling in and moving across space and

The time aspect is important to these works, as they do not represent a fixed scene or
invoke a deadening stasis. Movement pulses throughout, and our eyes are continuously
taken across, up and into the works: through the forms, enfolding and encircling each
other, along the lines that are not quite lines, that meet each other and meet our eyes with
a remarkably odd delicacy. The lack of aggression only adds to the strangeness of the
works; they nudge us with the grace of an oddly coloured butterfly, hovering on the edge
of our field of awareness.

The works are imbued with a diachronic temporality; we see the time they were painted
in, within each mark, particularly within the squelching coils of spiralling lines, spanning
the surface of the paintings, weaving in and out of the picture plane, generating their own
geometries of paradox. The painterly finesse of this technique is based on extensive
experimentation with the viscosity of the paint, and working the mediums up to a level of
flexibility that can suspend time, and sustain the delicate films of translucent colour
Kirby uses. The fragility of the paint mixture grounds the marks, the gestures, the forms
made by the paint as much in the chemistry of the paint itself, as the techniques Kirby
uses to amplify gestures, to test the limits of his body and imagination.

There is something in the paint, which manages to continually slip between its materiality
as oil paint and what we experience as viewers of the work; as we encounter colours
oscillating across a surface and the suggestive qualities of the marks and forms that Kirby
has spun and woven the paint into. This experience doesn’t belong to the artist or to us as
viewers, but hovers and slips and slides within and outside of us, like sunlight reflected
off water. Perhaps it was this that made me cry.

Maybe I was too close to the work, well within the eighteen inches that Mark Rothko
suggested to the viewers of his paintings. I was less than a foot away, slightly to the left,
where concentric amber rings fading into the white of the board caught in my eye, and
made me shudder and sob. I felt part of something lost inside, as a nameless sensation
met with the paint, and the scraping points of light seemed to expand and overwhelm me.
It seems strange to write about something that is so far beyond words, and my point is
that painting as art affects us deeply. The way that light bounces across a surface and
enters our eye, the way that colours scintillate and marks oscillate and vibrate within us
like music, affect us emotionally and physically. Painting is not about pictures, but about
paint, and the wordless intensity that can fill us with sensation and take us somewhere
else, such as an impossible intimacy with the artist, and ourselves. Kirby’s works
approach this metaphysical condition of art, a space where we can open ourselves up to
not understanding, but to experiencing the joy of looking with our whole bodies.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Taking Leave

This could be taking some time off or taking leave of my senses - and probably is about both.

Mayhem is officially heading for the hills and a temporary retirement from being an artscribe - while I head into the last long trudge of the tome.

Hopefully the thing will be mostly over by the end of the summer... so the hiatus won't be a permanent one...

I've been abstaining from the heady whirl of art gallery opening nights - largely due to complaints from my liver - and am now finding it increasingly hard to get myself out of the greying box on my neck and into big white boxes of fun and optimism and adventure that are art spaces and happenings.

I still hope to make it to the odd show and opening -but it's starting to feel like a duty - and a drain on my overtaxed synapses. Schappylle Scragg will continue to make the occasional and tasteless appearance and is branching into aussie themed erotica - keep yer hands down yer undies for that one!

I'm trying to wean myself off being a noticeboard for new art shows - and think facebook and myspace are doing a pretty good job anyway - and thorougly reccommend artswipe and the artlife for continuous critical engagement.

As soon as I receive a coherent list of works from the greens auction last week - I will - as promised - write a review of all of the pieces donated - many of which weren't able to be auctioned off due to time constraints - and the overwhelming genersoity of artists.

Plus I probably will write regular tormented rants about my life on bodies art and stuff

so for now - as schappylle would say - "i'll be off like sheep guts in the sun"

xx mayhem

Monday, October 01, 2007

Looking for Demoocracy?

Mayhem's buggered off to Melbourne, so Schappylle has taken over for this week

Hope youse are all coming along to me show this thursday, eh?

It's gonna be bloody unrool, eh? Maaayyte you should see some of the art eh? ya know, just ordinary aussies, doing their bit to show what a beautiful country this is, and all those Aussie values and why it's so unrool here eh?

and there's some rool good artists tooo, eh? Like that guy from Mental as Anything, and Susan Norrie, and Deborah Kelly and Fiona McDonald, and Catherine rogers, and Dean Sewell, and Ian Milliss, and Craig Waddell, and Tim Johnson, and all these other people whose names I can't spell...

and there's even videos too, eh?

So thursday night - youse should come down. they''ll even have beer cause Darrylle said he wouldn't come unless they had a man's drink, so there'll be beer and wine - but no bundy but eh?

It's just across from Darling Harbour, ya know Sega world?

Mori Gallery
168 Day Street, sydney
thursday 4th October
6-9pm: auction starts at 7.30pm

see yas there