graphite & putty eraser/30x20cm
Continuing with the process of 'roadkill' diptych drawings: one intends the dialogue between the two distinct halves to be apparent, in terms of the technique of mark-making & erasure common to both, the whole, despite the obvious difference in finished appearance. An interesting result of the particular drawing process of heavily applying graphite to the surface of the paper in order to achieve a suitably rich darkness of tone is that the resulting metallic, light-reflective sheen corresponds rather pleasingly in a direct physical manner to the nature of the surface finish of the aluminium can, thus creating a satisfying 'object dialogue' between the thing itself & its representation as a drawing (another thing).
The drawing of such an object as the crushed can, plucked, recovered & reclaimed from a contemporary context (where it unavoidably comments, eloquently despite its mute, abandoned status, upon the circumstances in which it exists, of the ubiquity of shiny, designed, branded products & the casual manner in which, consumed, such are wantonly discarded), nontheless seems to reference the history of art in the manner of its featuring in synthesized form multiple facets & views such as might typically occur in Cubism - this particular can, for instance, displaying, simultaneously, within the same flattened plane (actual & pictured), its top, side & bottom &, also Cubistically, a fragment of lettering & logo, a synecdoche of its (brand) name.
Furthermore, & reaching further back in art-historical time, the creases & folds in the buckled, flattened form of the can might also suggest the folds & creases in drapery & flowing, billowing garments, especially silks amongst an array of fabrics, either clothing or falling from the human form, representations of which are ubiquitous in the tradition of Western painting, the technical realization of which being a particular practical illustration of an artist's talents: indeed, such subject matter & resources provided the inspiration for the series of 'white' paintings, entitled 'Phantom', that Alison Watt produced during her 2006 - 8 residency at the National Gallery, illustrating the enduring fascination & challenge of such to artists.
Soundtrack:
Belle & Sebastian 'Push Barman to Open Old Wounds'
The Associates 'Fourth Drawer Down'/'Sulk'
Nirvana 'In Utero'
PJ Harvey 'To Bring You My Love'
And the post-punk obsession continues, largely unabated, finding its most recent expression in the work of The Associates, whose sonic aesthetic remains unique & astonishing still, a mighty & compelling combination of Billy Mackenzie's voice, stratospheric in range, his vocal gymnastics, his lyrical non-sequiturs & Alan Rankine's instrumental inventiveness & the ensuing unconventional, often jarring forms: anything goes, & mostly works, creating such magnificent atmospheres, the wonders of which endure. There really is, or has been, nothing quite like, for but a few examples, the mitteleuropean eerie starkness of 'A White Car in Germany'; the foreboding plod of 'Q Quarters', anxiously looking over its shoulder at what may lurk in the mist-shrouded, haunted, echoing shadows; the (especially) manic 'Kitchen Person' & 'Bap de la Bap'; the dislocated (Cubist?) funk of 'Message Oblique Speech'; the singing-in-the-shower/bath conceit of 'Blue Soap' (perfectly realised in textural terms, with 'Kitchen Person' playing on a background radio) - how could one not smile & sing along to a lyric & conjured image such as "rub-a-dub-dub, me & my dog in the tub" (?!); the grandiose drama of 'No'; the vocal lapse into a Sean Connery impersonation during 'Skipping'; or, of course, the soaring heights of 'Party Fears Two' (somewhat incredible to contemplate now, given its sheer otherness, but a hit single in its glorious day). And how prescient, indeed prophetic, regretfully, proved to be the lyrics of the appropriately reflective, melancholy 'Gloomy Sunday', a title & familiar sentiment within British musical & other culture which forms an interesting link with the post-punkesque aesthetic of Black Box Recorder's 'England Made Me' & its closing, similarly dismal, 'Hated Sunday' (with an honourable mention too for Morrissey, for whom, tragi-comically, every day was like Sunday, of course!)
There's a fascinating interview, anecdotally filling in many a background, with Alan Rankine in Simon Reynolds' essential companion volume to 'Rip It Up and Start Again', 'Totally Wired': the author, in his introduction to the latter, is indeed correct in stating that there is still much to be explored in the subject of post-punk, something I'm beginning to realise too as it looms ever larger, to the point of almost total immersion: how wonderful & revelatory it is to be returning to the music & its makers of the time, of one's youth, such a crucial, formative one culturally & creatively, & discovering so much unchartered depth.
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