A visit underneath the real world, in the basement of Blackwell's bookshop where, between shelves full with books, the story of a famous undead arises #dracula #CreationTheater pic.twitter.com/krYcFCLsq7â marianne bevand (@marianne_bevand) 3 mars 2018
Welsh runner, Lowri Morgan, had already won the Arctic's ultramarathon before the end, but what she did was to complete it. #senseofachievement #pushtheboundaries #nevergiveupthefight #GoodnightStoriesForRebelGirls pic.twitter.com/sPlRDKpBwaâ marianne bevand (@marianne_bevand) 3 mars 2018
Vibrant artist Lubaina Himid at the Modern Art Museum, Oxford
This is impressive to see how Lubaina Himid opens the doors of imagination with her theatrical and colourful large scale artworks.
At the very beginning of the exhibition we are immediately carried away into other imaginary worlds.
The vivid colours create a joyful atmosphere, but taking a closer look at the artworks, we realise that the artist deals with hard topics: immigration (underlined by the recurring image of the sea), moments of crisis, slavery, fights for freedom, etc.
Lubaina Himid is also taking over objects, like newspapersâ sheets and plates, in a very powerful way: she partially covers them with her own colourful paintings, leaving, in the end, her contemporary imprint.
âPower and Protection: Islamic Art and the Supernaturalâ at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford
Amongst the wide range of artworks from the 12th Century to the 20th Century, I was expecting to dive straight away into the Supernatural, but I first came across science and astronomy related objects. And this made me realise a contradiction: despite their scientific knowledge, humans from this ancient time had developed beliefs in the Supernatural. They had been searching for meaning in their natural environment (how the astres could define personality traits) and in their cultural background (how words could provide guidance or protection). Strong observers of their environment, humans of that time took what was before their eyes to raise questions that show their concern about understanding one of the lifeâs great mysteries: what is the reason of our existence?
Relying on tiny physical elements, like sand, as well as on bigger and further elements, like planets, they have been trying to draw the lines of a possible answer.
But in their research we can see that the task is complex: there could be several answers, like multiple combinations of words, or there could also be changing answers, like the different moonâs cycles, or there could be unpredictable answers, like rolling the diceâŠ
I thought to myself that the connection they made between environment and human beings was reassuring in a way, because it reminded that there is a natural explanation to our existence. However, suddenly coming back to my reality, I thought about our modern Western societies. We have lost this connection with our natural environment and we tend to live more and more in virtual realities of fast-paced changing and mobile societies, loosing valuable objects which are part of the transmission of our culture, family heritage, stories, etc.
Today was the last day of the exhibition âPower and Protection: Islamic Art and the Supernaturalâ at the Ashmolean museum, and I wonder which could be a possible exhibition, in the future, about the 21st century. What would remain of us since we are loosing the Sacred, nature and valuable objects?
Flat perspectives, at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford
Today, at the Ashmolean Museum, I was struck by the theatrical aspect of some Italian paintings made by Canaletto, Giovanni P. Panini, Francesco Guardi.Â
Painting has historically been a question of creating perspectives, and playing with a constraint that forces the painter to create within the canvas' delimited space. Looking at some theatrical paintings, I realise how easy it is to forget the original frame of the painting, and I laugh at myself thinking that I am actuallyÂ
looking at a frame within a frame, a bit lost in the maze of perspectives. Standing in front of the Italian paintings, I have the impression, though, that the image is quite flat: F. Gardi's painting represents a wide ground at the forefront, where lay the scene, and a setting in the background, set up there as if it was closing the play.Â
As for Italian artist Panini, his paintings depict some characters standing underneath an arch, and at their feet, a stretch of water, still, deadly quiet, almost like alluding to the world from where nobody returns. But again, I have the sensation that the paintings are flat, as if I was meant to observe the only scene that painters had staged. Nothing more, nothing less. Hence, the flat aspect I can sense.
Therefore, I am happy to reconnect with a three-dimensional world by moving my look around some sculptures made by Rodin, A. Gilbert, J.J. Feuchere.Â
These sculptures remind of me of life in its most powerful expression, notably through the representation of a body, weighted by emotions - like this Satan with a melancholic face - or in balance - as the Rodin's dancer - or powerful - as St George and the Dragon, Victory Leading where Victory stands by St George, with her chest leaning forward, almost crossing the bow she is holding, like an arrow ready to strike.
Inventive and innovative, âA Midsummer Nightâs Dreamâ performed by Creation Theatre brings Shakespeareâs famous play to all and to our contemporary world. The play has been turned into a quest throughout Oxford city, leading the spectators into a sort of treasure hunt during which they search for clues that guide them to the different scenes. The stage direction has been so brilliantlyÂ
well conceived, that it definitely succeeds in opening a door to a world of wonders, within the real world. The story, told by excellent comedians, unfolds at the corner of a street, in shops, in a cemetery, in a church, and it ends in a garden where we witness a happy ending of fortunate heroes whom loves were once thwarted, but finally celebrated. After such a marvellous journey, one can wonder if all of that has happened, unsure - even until now - of being awaken, or dreamingâŠ
âA Midsummer Nightâs Dreamâ by Creation Theatre (23/06 - 30/07/206) Shakespeare Oxford Festival
Exhibition âElectronic Superhighway (2016-1966)â at Whitechapel gallery
29 Jan - 15 May 2016
Considering that the mass of information exchanged every year on the internet - about a zettabyte - represents a volume as large as the size of the Milky Way,Â
we can easily feel overwhelmed by the digital era. At Whitechapel gallery, 70 artists took over digital technologies and the internet to compose about a hundred of artworks, revealing a mixture of feelings, from excitement to fear, going through all kind of fantasies generated by this new virtual world.
The field of digital technologies has opened the door of a limitless world that has exceeded the current frontier of our comprehension of the world. It contains too much information that the physical and mental spaces, as we know so far, can apprehend. This idea is well represented in the artwork Internet Cache Self Portrait by Evan Roth, that shows a printed paper unrolling too much information that the wall, onto which it is pasted, can physically contain. Limitless, shapeless, the digital world is seen, by some other artists, as a sort of threatening monster, disturbing, strange, and sometimes quietly oppressive like the artwork of Addie Wagenknecht, Asymmetric Love, a chandelier-like with CCTV camerasâ installation which seems to be hovering over us.
Going beyond the fear of new technologies, other artists consider the possibilities of connection that they offer. Artists remind us that we have entered a new kind of reality where it is possible to connect with each other, quickly, even instantaneously, as shown in Alan Kaprowâs artwork, Hello, for instance. The artwork presents a set up of TV screens broadcasting black and white archival films that show a group of people apparently trying for the first time a live broadcast, and from which we could hear an expression that has become very popular nowadays: âHello? Hello? Could you hear/see me?â. This simple sentence leads to a significant question: what is this new possible reality where we can be here, without being here?
In other artworks, the question is about the relationship between humans and computers: we can see some humans touching the screen, falling on the other side of the screen, taking part to the virtual reality. Sometimes the relationship seems to be unbalanced as if machines were too intrusive, or haunting, like this multiple screens installation by Nam June Paik, Internet Dream, which looks like a giant many-eyed monster⊠At some point, we can wonder if, instead of allowing humans to connect with each other, technologies are not meant to replace humans, like this hologram, Homo Sacer by James Bridle, that welcomes visitors at the entrance of the exhibition. Going even further, we can also wonder if digital life should be considered having an existence and along with the question, the question about gender arises too, like in Zach Blasâ Queer Technologies where it is possible to get gender changed using an adaptor.
The more we think about the virtual world and the real world, the more they seem intertwined and sometimes the frontier between them is blurred. Some artworks challenge us on the question whether or not it is possible to define what is real. If we look at Jennifer in Paradise by Constant Dullaart, a woman seated on a beach and depicted in images that are changing, depending on the perspective, it makes us wonder what is the original image or what is the true reality. And actually there may be no true reality, but just a question of perspective, which reminds us that all what we see is always a distorted imageâŠ
On a happier note, some of the artists have decided to give a more playful sense to digital technologies in their artworks. With Do You Have Work Tomorrow? Mahmoud Khaled plays with text messaging to create a story board that shows a funny dialogue between two people. Then, we wonder: could it be that frightening, if it could be humorous?
There are plenty of ways to explore digital technologies and the internet. We have pushed to open wide a door to whole new world. Shall we be scared of it or be excited about it? We cannot tell, but we can be sure that this virtual world and the possibilities it brings along are a great source of inspiration.
When the Sky Becomes An Architecture that Creates Emptiness To Open A Path Towards Metaphysical Questions
Blue Box Project by Satoshi Hirose at MOT - Museum of Modern Art Tokyo, 2015
It started with a postcard, from a mail art project, taking place in Japan.
The postcard was illustrated with a photo of the sky taken by Japanese contemporary artist, Satoshi Hirose. As part of the project, the postcard meant to be sent to oneself, transiting by air mail from Japan to the artist living in Milan (Italy). Numerous of his exhibitions relate to the sky, but in this project, Satoshi Hirose uses the sky as an architecture like an empty space, a channel, a path, visitors cross when entering the art world. The postcard is the suitcase. A suitcase in which memories, like photos from the sky, can be kept as treasures.
Where does the idea begin?
Imagine the artist, Satoshi Hirose, living a nomadic life, travelling from Milan, to Tokyo, to other places and his sharp eyes suddenly seized an astonishing scenery unfolding in front of his him during a flight: a beautiful sky, clear or grey with clouds or not, nuanced by many colours like light blue at daytime, yellow, orange, red and dark blue at dusk. This is easy to imagine for anyone who has ever looked through a window during a flight. The numerous flights S. Hirose took, has led him to get and develop ideas for his projects. At first, he decided to capture pictures of the sky he would see when traveling on an airplane and within 10 years he gathered about 3,000 photos, all showing a sky that never looks the same. For S. Hirose, the sky became a landmark, something he could constantly relate to when moving around the world to work on new projects and present exhibitions. Perhaps, the sky became a little bit like his house⊠Nonetheless he decided to share his special connection with the sky with the mail art / air mail project where visitors were invited to experience both symbolic and physical dimension of the sky, since they would cast words and thoughts on a âsky postcardâ as well as the latter, labelled AIR MAIL, would use the sky as a physical path to reach destination.
For me, the experience was even stronger because I sent the postcard few months before I left Japan and, like the postcard, I took a flight to return to Europe. When I was back in Europe, the postcard, alongside with a letter from the artist and a box of more âsky postcardsâ, returned to me as well. I had, then, shared the same connection as the postcard and this made me feel a strange sensation that led to me ask myself a metaphysical question⊠I was thinking that we all have different cultural backgrounds and that the soil differ depending on where we stand on earth, but I asked myself if the following expression was true: âwe all live under the same sky.â Before living abroad I did not think that we could have a physical attachment to a location, because I thought that what would really matter for people was the culture. But maybe I was wrong. I was not considering that we could have a physical connection with a location, that we could smell the air, feel the sun, and breath differently if the atmosphere is humid, hot, dry or cold. And looking at the different images of the sky that Satoshi Hirose took in picture, I asked myself: is this air above our heads the same for all of us?
Viaggio by Satoshi Hirose ed. Silvana Editoriale 2008 (sky postcard book, Blue Box Project special edition)
To Get Access, Find Code: âLSDâ Exhibition At the Rob Tufnell Gallery, London.
Amongst buildings blocks constructed in the 1930s, after the disastrous Thames flood, a gatekeeper's lodge became, in 2009, the renowned Rob Tufnell, contemporary art gallery in London. In this little square room gallery, I found myself living a similar experience to the one I lived  few minutes earlier when I was searching for the gallery: unexpected and difficult to access.Â
At first, I did not find the gallery immediately because I was searching for what could look like a gallery not really minding about searching for the number 83 of Page street, but then, I finally arrived in front of a door that was locked. Luckily, someone arrived to let me in. So, to those unexpected events and to the feeling of being lost, a strange experience came in addition: I was standing in the square room, looking at square pieces of sheet, divided in smaller squares whose some of them were presenting prints that were repeated several times on the sheetâs smaller squares. I had a sensation that I was experiencing something psychedelic, that I was attracted to those prints and to the repeated ones whose I had to come closer to see the tiny details: monkeys, the moon, alphabet, messages like âSTRIVE FOR EXCELLENCEâ, a manâs face profile, another man wearing spiral glasses, etc. The exhibition generated doubts in me: I was unsure of what I was looking at just as well as this place seems unreal to me. Then, I came upon the exhibitionâs title that showed me some guidance at the same time as it lost me: âLSDâ.
âLSDâ exhibition, a series of prints created by a plurality of artists at the Rob Tufnell gallery, London (25 Feb. - 19 Mar. 2016).
But, donât get me wrong: the exhibition is a real gem amongst other exhibitions in London. It pushes visitors to find codes to get access, as well as it is about codes that the exhibition is dealing with: codes in the branding industry, also treated in the Pop art movement as some artworks tend to recall it. And, the exhibition puts also in question codes and iconographic that became extremely popular though they were linked with the drogueâs clandestine activity in the 1970s.
How Ceramic Artist, Betty Woodman, Succeeds in Bringing Excitement and Life in Contemporary Art Installations
Looking at The Summer House of Betty Woodman, a large-scale artwork specially created to be presented during a solo exhibition which started on February 3rd at ICA London, I thought it was very accurate to consider the artistâs work not just as paintings or sculptures, but more as installations.
Indeed, it seems that a performance could emerge from her art, as if the artwork was a set of a stage ready to welcome a live performance.
Betty Woodmanâs solo exhibition at ICA London (3 Feb 2016 â 10 Apr 2016)
Not only Betty Woodmanâs art blurred the frontier of art categories, but it also poses the question about the physical limits of art and about the effects it creates when playing with these limits. Paintings are delineated by the ceramicsâ surface and by the canvas in which the artist paints. Besides, ceramicsâ sculptures are limited to the available space where the art is taking shape. However, the artworks seem to be able to move beyond these limits. For instance, the composition of painted ceramic pieces pasted on the wall, is not meant to represent a regular painting trapped in two dimensions, but it becomes a three dimensional artwork, allowing to feel the asperity of the work.
Another example is The Summer House, a large-scale artwork occupying a single room in itself; it is a combination between a painting, set on a wall, and sculptures, set on the floor, close to the wall. This artwork defines a delimitation of the art in a very singular way; it shows that when the art is set on the wall, it does not limit itself to the wall, but instead, the art navigates between the wall and the floor, alternating this way between two and three dimensions.
Therefore, playing with these limits, Betty Woodman creates something vibrating, almost alive, that makes the observer feel more the art. The artist has succeeded in adding to the artworks, an extra dimension; as if something could happen here, or as if it is possible to jump into the imaginary world it represents.