The critical and the creative

Frank Auerbach - Sketch: Mornington Crescent (1972)

The South West's perennial problem of how to generate more critical dialogue around the visual arts was addressed once again with the launch of the Art Writers Group at Hestercombe House last week. Originating in a writing workshop organised by Visual Arts South West, the group is co-ordinated by Peter Stiles and Josephine Lanyon and has just appointed four funded writers-in-residence at three locations: Plymouth, Cornwall and Bristol.

We heard from the writers in residence Patrick Langley (Cornwall), Lizzie Lloyd (Plymouth), Tom Jeffreys (Plymouth), and Mary Paterson (Bristol) as well as Phil Owen of Tertulia and Greg Neale of Resurgence magazine.

Topics under discussion included Authorship, Context and Publication. A highlight for me was Mary Paterson performing a text that took in, among other things, the refugee crisis, Vikings, walking and the slipperiness of memory.  I also enjoyed Lizzie Lloyd's conjuring of a painting by Peter Doig purely through words (and a little rhythmic pacing). Plus I got to spend a few precious minutes with a Frank Auerbach sketch in the gallery upstairs.

It was an inspiring day - and an opener to what I hope will be a far wider and deeper discussion, but the emphasis on creative writing in response to contemporary art side-stepped some of the more pressing issues surrounding art writing in relation to the region's art practice. I'm all for opening up the question of what critical writing might be but, to function in support of the visual arts ecology, it needs to be more than yet another creative activity.

The issue for me is that we need more critical dialogue around art. That means people who are prepared to respond rigorously to work in ways that allow its makers, curators and audiences to understand, learn and grow. I'm not arguing for critics as the ultimate arbiters of taste and quality, but about capable writers and speakers deploying integrity and precision in describing their responses.

I'm not saying this can't be done through creative writing, but riffing off of someone else's work to make a text work of your own is not always the same as trying honestly to interpret, and enhance appreciation of, that work. There's a reason why we might prefer to practice slightly oblique creative writing over reviewing - and that's because it's easier to hide what you really think. South West practitioners operate in a very messy, close-knit world where everyone has multiple roles. A writer might also be an artist who in 18 months time will be looking to collaborate with the artists or curators they're about to review.

There are other issues too. Although the subject of money was avoided until the closing minutes at Hestercombe, it is at the heart of how we create a properly critical atmosphere. If you want professional writers, curators, academics and critics to write generously and fairly about art, you need to pay them (or they will be too busy doing their actual jobs to give the art the time and thought it deserves). As paid opportunities for critical writing continue to shrink, it is increasingly the artists and arts organisations themselves who commission texts. Of course this need not actually stifle critical thinking, but we need to be alert to the fact that whoever pays the bill holds the power.

I have written on related topics before, back in 2014 and 2010. See more here:
http://gabriellehoad.blogspot.co.uk/2014/12/critical-friends-hard-to-find-harder.html
http://gabriellehoad.blogspot.co.uk/2010/11/good-and-bad-art.html
http://gabriellehoad.blogspot.co.uk/2010/09/is-there-right-way-to-write-about-art.html 

Digbeth First Friday

Artists Behind Bars at Grand Union, Digbeth, 2 December 2016

What sort of landscape do artists in other cities operate in? How do they solve problems like money, space, resources, profile-building, critical dialogue and networking? Can productive connections (both real and conceptual) be made between their environment and the community in which I work?

I was lucky enough to join Preston Street Union's December trip to Digbeth First Friday, a co-ordinated monthly opening of Birmingham visual arts venues. Over seven intense hours we toured this thriving industrial area on the edge of the city centre, getting a flavour of Birmingham's artist-led activity. We also reconnected with PSU's founder Trevor Pitt and other artists such as Juneau Projects and Cathy Wade who were involved in our early days with Spacex. 

First stop was the Daphne Francis Gallery in the landmark Custard Factory where we met the Cobalt Blue artist group and viewed their show Balance. From there we went on to the Eastside Projects Winter Art Fair, where we also saw Simon Bayliss' show Frantic Romantic and glimpsed elements of The Production Show with works by Linda Brothwell, Alice Channer, Nicolas Deshayes, Des Hughes and Peter Nencini. 

At Grand Union we visited shows at Vivid Projects: Black Hole Club and Centrala, then stopped for food at Digbeth Dining Club - a weekend street-food market.  Next up: A3, a space run by Trevor Pitt and Oliver C Jones, to see Catching Rabbits & Starting Fires, an event by Tom James focused on survival skills. We caught up with Juneau Projects, who we'll be working with next year, and met Mark Murphy who has a show of collage works - Remains - in the A3 project space with John Bennett. 

Back at Grand Union, we ended the evening at the Artists Behind Bars Christmas party with Fierce, where invited artists ran themed bars within a warehouse party setting. It made me think of the recent talk in Exeter by Marvin Gaye Chetwynd and her belief that enabling other people to play is a legitimate way to make art.

The quality and quantity of affordable space for art and artists close to city centre is a key factor in the success of the Birmingham visual arts scene. But its extraordinary level of ambition and energy is also driven by a strong local art school, a young and diverse population, and a high volume of resident artists. Exeter will never match it, but that doesn't mean we can't learn from it.