Current issue

C99 Review: Dublin I

Top left: Tripswitch: installation overview; photo the author; above: Christophf Neuman: Precious; photo the author; far left: Robert Carr: Untitled (detail); photo the author; left: Louisa Sloan: Sheep, video still; courtesy Tripswitch:
Top to bottom above: Elizabeth Magill: POPP.015, Ceal Floyer: Glass, Pádraig Timoney: Involved; all images courtesy of Multiples at Temple Bar Gallery and Studios
Dorothy Cross: Figure, video stills; courtesy Temple Bar Properties
Don Brown: Yoko; courtesy Sadie Coles HQ

Art on a small scale is a viable option for young up-and-coming artists; however, even the big names seem to be zeroing in on the very particular charms of art that doesn't hit you on the head with a hammer.

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

Rachel Ní Chuinn is a photographer.

Article reproduced from CIRCA 99, Spring 2002, pp. 50-51.

Back to top of page

 

Do you have an opinion on this article? If so, please click here for our comments form.

No reader feedback so far - awaiting your input!


Marks - a new Circa / Stinging Fly collaborative publication

Survey of studio spaces in Dublin



Art-college survey: students/ lecturers/ tutors



Discounted Circa subscription rates



Please notify me about CIRCA-related acitvities; my e-mail address is:

It would also help us if you indicate your country of residence:

On sale now: Space: Architecture for Art, CIRCA's 272-page publication on the theory and practice of art spaces; incorporates an extensive directory of art spaces throughout Ireland. Click here for more information. Space cover


art ireland irish art
© Copyright 1999-2008
Circa Art Magazine
43/44 Temple Bar
Dublin 2, Ireland
Tel / Fax: +353 1 6797388
e-mail: info@recirca.com