RON ADAMS, KATE BECKINGHAM, KIERAN BUTLER, LUCAS DAVIDSON, DANIEL HOLLIER, RICHARD KEAN & CARLA LEISCH
’MODES OF PRACTICE’
PRESENTED BY MOP PROJECTS
3 NOVEMBER – 26 NOVEMBER, 2016
Modes of Practice, 2016, Installation shot. Photography by Document Photography.
ID: On the left wall, there is a large scale painting of text which reads "I am the son and the heir of nothing in particular". The text is in large blocky black letters and does not follow typical punctuation of syntax on the canvas. Next to it, a colourful abstract artwork hangs high on the wall.
EXHIBITION STATEMENT
Modes of Practice brought together past and present MOP Projects committee members Ron Adams, Kate Beckingham, Kieran Butler, Lucas Davidson, Daniel Hollier, Richard Kean and Carla Liesch in this allied location and timely exhibition. Our mode of practice is our way of thinking about and through making, a process-driven philosophy that is nurtured through the experimental nature of our artist-run-spaces. These artists had worked together before, their object-based and expanded ideas of art-making engage in an ongoing dialogue with each other, and the space in which they exhibited. In collectively discussing this exhibition, the artists had all developed work from significant moments working with MOP Projects as they celebrated the end of an important 14-year Sydney institution.
Modes of Practice, 2016, Installation shot. Photography by Document Photography.
ID: The gallery has multiple works hung on the walls. On the left hand side of the image, a colourful artwork in a trapezoid frame hangs low to the ground on the floor. A similar work is found in the center of the space on the floor, standing and propped up by a neon organic shape. On the left wall, a large section of the white wall is painted black, with geometric shapes and objects attached to this black foreground. The back corner wall contains two perspex prisms attached to the wall, one an orange triangular prism, and the other is a yellow-green cube. On the right hand side of the image, a work consisting of four separate pieces which join together is hung on the wall of the gallery. Each piece is an identical geometric shape, painted in yellow, green and pink. They are placed so as to form a rectangle.
It has been difficult to write this essay because I have mixed feelings about MOP closing. MOP has been fundamental to my identification and formative years as a practicing artist. And MOP is closing at a very complex time in Australian arts; so how do we celebrate the end of such an important space? Modes of Practice is not simply the last MOP Project, but it is taking place in the midst of what has been described as the worst crisis the Australian arts have faced since the Australia council was founded in 1967.
You do not have to be abreast of the entirety of the situation to experience the mood in which we currently find ourselves working—one dominated by anxiety and uncertainty for the future of the arts in Australia. Certainly, when decision-making from the top shuts down avenues for critical and creative thinking, the future that is being nurtured seems a dangerous one.
Modes of Practice, 2016, Installation shot. Photography by Document Photography.
ID: On the left hand side of the image, a colourful artwork in a trapezoid frame hangs low to the ground on the floor. Similar works are found around the gallery on the floor, standing up. A work consisting of four separate pieces which join together is hung on the center wall of the gallery. Each piece is an identical geometric shape, painted in yellow, green and pink. They are placed so as to form a rectangle.
And we exhibited here in this significant location—significant geographically to MOP, forming part of the Chippendale Creative Precinct that is contributing to a growing sense of artistic community beyond the immediate families of these two galleries; and significant in the midst of the fight over the future of the University’s art school. Myself and five of the artists in this exhibition are alumni of Sydney College of the Arts. This exhibition followed SOS SCA at Verge Gallery, a chronicle of the struggle to keep SCA open and maintain the current course load and staff capacity. SOS SCA co-curator Katie Williams spoke of the complexity of the situation we are dealing with as artists, in some way or another. The exhibition spoke to the strength of critical dialogue in our community. Art is many things, Williams’ notes—and many of these aforementioned things merge in this specific location.
Modes of Practice, 2016, Installation shot. Photography by Document Photography.
ID: The gallery has multiple works hung on the walls. On the left hand side of the image, a colourful artwork in a trapezoid frame hangs low to the ground on the floor. Similar works are found around the gallery on the floor, standing up. A work consisting of four separate pieces which join together is hung on the center wall of the gallery. Each piece is an identical geometric shape, painted in yellow, green and pink. They are placed so as to form a rectangle. A rectangular prism of yellow perspex lies on the floor of the gallery in the left corner of the image. Inside it, colourful confetti are stuck to the walls of the prism and pile at the bottom.
And over this space, MOP co-director Ron Adams’ large text installation declared:
I am the son and heir of nothing in particular.
Modes of Practice, 2016, Installation shot. Photography by Document Photography.
ID:The gallery has multiple works hung on the walls. On the left hand side of the image, a colourful artwork in a trapezoid frame hangs low to the ground on the floor. A similar work is found in the center of the space on the floor, standing and propped up by a neon organic shape. On the left wall, a large section of the white wall is painted black, with geometric shapes and objects attached to this black foreground. The back corner wall contains two perspex prisms attached to the wall, one an orange trangular prism, and the other is a yellow-green cube. On the right hand side of the image, a work consisting of four separate pieces which join together is hung on the wall of the gallery. Each piece is an identical geometric shape, painted in yellow, green and pink. They are placed so as to form a rectangle.
Adams’ text references The Smiths’ 1984 song How Soon is Now? In this work Adams’ revisited MOP Projects’ Our Lucky Country series held in partnership with Hazelhurst Regional Gallery in 2005-2007—a work that spoke to the scope of MOP’s satelite exhibitions. In 2007 Naomi Evans wrote of this works’ ‘observation that we are of a time where the past no longer promises a grand inheritance.’1 The text was reclaimed in this space—these words haunt this uncertain territory of the arts. But they also spoke to opportunity, ‘the fact that not one thing defines us, that we are a composite of parts, not one leading above the others.’2 This exhibition indeed came from community, a composite of many parts, a collection of many voices and modes of practice. This is the message that Adams’ chose to leave us with, a celebration of this community that will continue to drive artistic creation in Australia.
Modes of Practice, 2016, Installation shot. Photography by Document Photography.
ID: On the left wall, there is a large scale painting of text which reads "I am the son and the heir of nothing in particular". The text is in large blocky black letters and does not follow typical punctuation of syntax on the canvas. Next to it, a colourful abstract artwork hangs high on the wall. A rectangular prism of yellow perspex lies on the floor of the gallery to the right side of the image. Inside it, colourful confetti are stuck to the walls of the prism and pile at the bottom.
The fragility of these works is a strength, as is the precariousness of the life of the artist—it places us in a position to be critical and creative thinkers. To those of you who keep going was a gentle gesture to Beckingham’s peers, from an artist who is processing her own fears by continuing to make work: ‘getting up, moving things around and sitting back down again.’ We saw this sentiment of support echoed in the physicality and the gestures of Kieran Butler’s work through titles such as This is for those who ground me.
Butler’s work physically addressed the in-between spaces of the gallery, conceptually calling into question the detritus, the stuff, the things that Beckingham has repurposed in her works. Since completing his MFA, Butler’s thinking has progressed from things to stuff, from ideas and objects to the leftovers, the bits and pieces that make up our practices.
He does this through critically questioning his medium, a kind of material philosophy that works with the fluidity of the photographic medium to reflect the artist, the colour, the space, the society in which he is working. In these works Butler’s photographic installations created the illusion of support, responding to the suspended walls at Verge. These works are heavily layered and built-up, there is both a philosophical and physical grasping or reaching out by the artist to comprehend the materiality of his own thoughts and things. These gestures are disembodied and obscured by a collaging into a beautiful collection of stuff. The bits and pieces, thoughts and ideas of Butler’s practice are assembled to bring together ‘nothing and everything’ in these works.
Modes of Practice, 2016, Installation shot. Photography by Document Photography.
ID: At the back of the gallery, there is a large scale painting of text which reads "I am the son and the heir of nothing in particular". The text is in large blocky black letters and does not follow typical punctuation of syntax on the canvas. A work consisting of four separate pieces which join together is hung on the left wall of the gallery. Each piece is an identical geometric shape, painted in yellow, green and pink. They are placed so as to form a rectangle. Beneath it, there is a frame that is placed on the floor of the gallery, propped up by a brightly coloured organically shaped object. A string of beads hangs from the ceiling all the way to the floor of the gallery.
Similarly to Butler, Davidson’s works emerged through a rigorous and ongoing investigation of his materials. A Mind of it’s Own was a component of an earlier work, realised here as a new video work and exhibited on a corporeal scale. Something in this work called out for further engagement: the way his fingers seemed to momentarily blur the distinction between the real and the virtual environment. The materiality of the mylar mirror, reflecting and distorting Davidson’s body, was recorded on the iPhone; and through this action considered the screen as a filter through which we perceive ourselves and others.
Davidson exhibited a new, experimental piece, as he questioned what more there is to learn from this work. This reminded us of the role of artist-run-spaces in giving artists the freedom to extend their studio experimentation into the gallery. The experience of learning through exhibiting further allows us to consider our work in the context of our peers. As I mentioned earlier, many of these artists had shown together before, and in-between the making and exhibiting, they critically engaged in each other’s practices. The reflections of Davidson’s work were echoed in the painterly sculptures of Carla Liesch: both were works that reflect out from the artists’ studio, into the space, and onto the viewer.
Modes of Practice, 2016, Installation shot. Photography by Document Photography.
ID: At the back of the gallery, there is a large scale painting of text which reads "I am the son and the heir of nothing in particular". The text is in large blocky black letters and does not follow typical punctuation of syntax on the canvas. A work consisting of four separate pieces which join together is hung on the left wall of the gallery. Each piece is an identical geometric shape, painted in yellow, green and pink. They are placed so as to form a rectangle. Beneath it, there is a frame that is placed on the floor of the gallery, propped up by a brightly coloured organically shaped object. A string of beads hangs from the ceiling all the way to the floor of the gallery.
Liesch is a place-maker. When Liesch and I shared a studio at Parramatta Artist Studios in 2015, her first act was to unleash a confetti canon in the space. That gesture was in these works. The reflective qualities of her materials spilled out from their perspex frame, casting brilliant shadows in the gallery space, tracing the movement of light, of passers-by. Liesch’s work embodied the forms and materials of painting—without the paint—to affect the way we see the space around them. These works brought us into the space we were in.
There was also a sense of celebration in Liesch’s works: a freedom and confidence in working with her favourite materials: vibrant perspex colours, exposed supports, and glitter. It’s almost a ready-made art party in a box, lighting up the gallery, waiting for us to complete the work by simply being in this space. Richard Kean’s work called for a similar presence, his installation piece Apodidae requiring participation to co-create the aural component of the work.
In Apodidae Kean presented three realisations of a glider developed according to the golden ratio. The measurements that made up the hand-carved glider were abstracted as aural strings and a diagram in a large blueprint installation. This blueprint spoke to an applied knowledge of flight obtained through theoretical study and practical experience. The participatory element of the work was key here, knowledge is gained through creating the sound, a practical understanding of the aural relationships. Kean’s work brought together his current passions, and in this combination, the work became not about the individual pursuits, but about Kean’s process of learning—of trying to understand the space he is in through art-making, through mathematics, through flying.
Again Kean’s work grounded us in this space, through the sounds reverberating in the air around us—through all of these works Verge Gallery had it’s own presence in this show. Even before we entered the gallery, Daniel Hollier’s painterly obscuring of the front windows created a narrative, drawing us inside.
Modes of Practice, 2016, Installation shot. Photography by Document Photography.
ID: This is an outside perspective shot of Verge Gallery. All the window panels have a whitewash film that blocks the viewers from seeing in on the front side of the gallery. On the right side of the gallery, you can see a black panel with white text on it and a small corner of the gallery with a yellow and red wall.
As MOP shuts up shop, Hollier’s work not only concealed the rest of the exhibition from the outside; it spoke to the future. This was one of MOP’s final exhibitions, but our activities continue as we channeled our energies in 2017 into an archival publication of the 14-years of MOP Projects. The space of MOP itself transitioned into a project space run by Galerie Pompom, maintaining the experimental ethos of its artist-run roots. But this work posed the question of the space that opens up as MOP closes. This was an exciting proposition.
Hollier’s Now You See Me Now You Don’t, Gestural Painting realised a new exploration in his practice of the painterly and performative expression and narrative meaning found in whited-out windows. This work was exhibited alongside an older work Painters Green Edition of Four from Hollier’s curated show Lesser Abstraction at MOP in 2010. A nod back to his MOP years and a poetic placement of the past, the present and the future—Hollier saw a strong material relationship between the works: the painters tape, the everyday building materials, the repeated gesture of the painted-out windows. Placing these two works together also gave us pause to reflect on what we have learnt from MOP: how we have progressed in our own practices; and as an artist-run-space.
So how then do we celebrate the end of an institution like MOP Projects? I think it is by acknowledging what it is that we have learnt from MOP: a very strong sense of community, communication, experimentation, mentorship and collaboration that we can see coming through strongly in this exhibition. We can celebrate by continuing to build this community, to take up opportunities, to celebrate our wins, share our support—to shape the future we want for art and culture in Australia.
Hayley Megan French, 2016