Tripswitch:
in the Guinness Storehouse is an exhibition of 25 tiny installations
set into an existing electricity mains on the fifth floor. Curated
by Mark Garry, it is an ongoing, revolving project displaying the
work of young artists. The variety of ideas expressed within such
miniature surroundings is impressive. The space is very much a product
of Paul Murnaghan (of the 5th gallery) and his wish to utilise the
building in its entirety as a showcase for art and design. Each
artist deals with the space in a different manner, some crowding
in as much as possible, some availing of the existing electricity
supply and some using it like a conceptual mantelpiece.
Precious
by Christophe Newman is one of the newer pieces and consists
of typical china ornaments painted green and covered in geometrical
markings, breaking the objects into universal matter. What one considers
precious is now made up of the same substance as everything else
- everything should be treated as precious because it is so to someone?
Karl Burke, who has contributed to _din, the innovative sound
exhibition at Arthouse, has an installation that fills the dimensions
available with a contemplative, minimal flair under
the title Dividing
a space. Louisa Sloan's Sheep deals with authorship and
group mentality. We see a pen full of sheep with 'Louisa' written
on their backs and are forced to ask whether an artist can claim
ownership over an idea or object by attaching his or her name to
it.
Overall, the
process of working within limited surroundings forces the artist
to be condensed in thought and light of hand. It is a pleasure that
so many of the pieces succeed. Placed near the 5th gallery, Tripswitch:
puts itself in the way of people who are going to look at art,
yet it doesn't advertise itself, preferring instead to be found.
There is an element of snooping involved when looking at little
art; this feeling is magnified when the viewer is not overtly invited.
It leads to a personal interaction with the idea; sometimes we don't
get the idea, but that makes the ideas we do get fresher and more
surprising. The sense of discovery creates an atmosphere of conspiracy
between the viewer and the artist that is mutually exciting.
The concept
of finding and perceiving detail is to the fore in Dorothy Cross'
short film Figure. Shown from 8pm to 11.00 pm in Meeting
House Square, it surprises the random stragglers in Temple Bar of
an evening. The sense of something happening before you have become
aware of it is the major idea I take from this work. The viewer
sees an image of the Custom House standing stately on the Liffey.
The eye tracks the river's waves; as the camera zooms in the eye
is drawn towards a splash in the river. The camera zooms in once
more and one can make out the figure of a naked man diving into
the Liffey and climbing out again and again. The realisation dawns
that the figure has been repeating this action all through the film.
Curiosity impels the viewer to watch the beginning of the film again
with this added knowledge. The artist is subtly reminding us to
look beyond what we are presented with and to adapt our perception
and direction of focus.
The work of
Yoshihiro Suda in the Home exhibition in the DHg has the
same effect of hiding on viewers, to surprise them and be all the
more meaningful later. Your attention is also drawn to gallery convention
when information on two pieces of work is tacked to the wall but
you can only find one piece of work. Any pantomime fan might have
guessed it already, only in this case it is "look up." You are rewarded
with the sight of a delicately carved wooden flower growing out
of the wall - its charm derived almost totally from having found
it. John Lennon began to admire Yoko Ono when he saw a piece of
hers in which he had to climb up a ladder with a magnifying glass
and read a tiny "yes" on the ceiling. Understatement is very effective
in promoting a relationship between the viewer and the possibly
remote artist.
Elsewhere in
the Home exhibition is Don Brown's Yoko IV. She is
standing in the window of the DHg; on the ground floor another Yoko
is poised with an enchanting appeal. There is something about her
stance that is neither flirtatious nor shy but simply present. Bodies
are so often sexually charged when represented that it becomes difficult
to observe them purely on the level of form. These two pieces speak
of a confident, comfortable relationship to the body that is unassuming
and yet captivating. The quality of being discovered lingers about
the piece despite its pride of place; however, the second Yoko in
the greater privacy of the lower floor of the gallery has an added
grace.
Multiples
is on its sixth run in Temple Bar Gallery and Studios. The creators
of the project, Paul O'Neill and Ronan McCrea, devised the scheme
with the intention of making art-collecting accessible to a wider
social band. Under the stewardship of O'Neill and Vaari Claffey,
many of the exhibits have travelled to the ICA in London, the Model
Arts Centre in Sligo and the Ormeau Baths in Belfast. The present
series is curated by Caoimhín Mac Giolla Léith, who took on the
role with a personal approach to the selection. On the whole the
pieces are limited editions produced by young independent artists
but with some highly celebrated artists also present, such as Sarah
Lucas. Because many of the objects are in the form of a book or
a CD, it is necessary to buy them to enjoy them to their fullest.
Finola Jones' Gus's Routine - The Flic Book promises
to be an enchanting series of images of a hippo swimming in cloudy
black and white. Likewise Ceal Floyer's Glass (a recording
of the sound of a glass rim being resonated, on transparent vinyl)
cannot be heard. Nonetheless many of the concepts are strong enough
to rely on the imagination of their audience for completion. Other
pieces, such as Matthew Higgs' mouse mat, I Married an Artist,
and Phil Collins' mug, Take a Look at Me Now, operate
in full visibility and act as functional objects.
The notion
that Multiples suffers from its commercial motives was raised
by Orla Ryan (in conversation with Sarah Pierce, CIRCA 97, p. 41).
She proposed that each work in the show is
...an object
whose primary reason for existence is as a sellable small object."
Pierce defended the pieces saying "...one of the reasons I like
Multiples is that you can go in - for example, the other
day I bought Mungo Thompsons's book with the change in my pocket
and I really like that idea. I don't consider it a small thing,
I consider it as significant a piece of work as larger projects.
Working on
small pieces demands the ideas be strong as the viewer will not
be placated by sheer magnitude. Some of the strongest works are
ones that are intelligently created for the format of the exhibition
on a pocket-size scale, such as the flick books from Jones and from
Elizabeth Magill. The portability of the work allows it to travel
easily and as a result it is a growing, living project that has
taken up roots in various quarters. That these artists are eager
to sell their work does not reflect negatively on how seriously
they take their ideas.
The similarities
among many of the pieces described here suggest that 'little art'
innately concerns itself with certain themes - perception and detail,
reminiscence, the process of collection and the relationship between
the artist and the viewer. The smallness of the object or space
alerts the viewer to its material qualities rather than to the effect
on its surroundings. The piece is not just as a visual work but
a work which can be held and manipulated. The book form is an ideal
example of how little art works: the piece itself cannot determine
how it is read but it accommodates the viewer's chosen approach
by becoming a personal object. By investigating art on a smaller
scale, artists initiate a wholly different relationship with the
viewer that is both challenging and seductive.
Tripswitch:,
Guinness Storehouse, ongoing, from February 2002
Dorothy
Cross: Figure, Meeting House Square, December 2001/January
2002
Home,
Douglas Hyde Gallery, December 2001-February 2002
Multiples,
Temple Bar Gallery, November 2001-April 2002