Art Reviews
NUA MA Degree Show 2017
East Gallery NUA
04/09/17
First thing first (apart from these words) - I am in this exhibition. Tucked away in a place that most will not discover, is my office; effectively just a cheeky bit of interactive art. I mention this fact because it may not only impact my opinion on the show - but it also means that I know everyone. Well, some more than others, as is always the way with education. In this case, the backdrop for this event is the University’s Masters course – the earliest of postgraduate options – exhibiting the culmination of between one and two years worth of study. While there is not quite as much present as in the same institution’s recent Undergrad exhibition, there is still quite a lot. One of the most interesting elements of this whole affair is the mixing of mediums, with rooms hosting variant fields, ranging from curation to games design, fashion to fine art, photography to, uh, that one where they just draw stuff.
In this brief article, I intend to outline to you my own opinion on what currently resides within the impressively hyper-modern architecture of Norwich University of the Art’s Guntons block. Please bear in mind that, in this particular situation, I will be being rather more critical than I usually am – for no other reason than ending my recent stint of education with a cadence as brutal as the building itself. Let’s go room by room, starting with what you would see as you approached the exhibition.
Walking over the small bridge that is adjacent to the eponymous Playhouse, two large windows shield a few works – both fine art and fashion. Dominating the centre of the room is what I would consider to comfortably be one of the strongest pieces of the exhibition; Hannamari Markkula’s three mannequins, wrapped in warm-looking fabric with the patterns laid out upon custom-made plinths. Almost a triptych of talent, one of the most meaningful comments I can make has to be expressed toward this artist – she’s undoubtedly got a job now. It’s funny that such a statement holds as much weight as it does but, as you may notice, having enough ability to succeed financially as a creative practitioner is a rarity. Well it should be, because that is the nature of competition, yet my point still stands – this artist is ready for the real world.
Now, less can be said for the others in the room. I can almost hear people gasping in the distance as I write this – but the strength of the centre is undermined by its surroundings. Colour palette was not taken in to account during the curation stage and, as such, the rest of the art in this room clashes against each other in a way that is in no way endearing. Bright abstract paint, a video of a girl dancing in what seems to be a duvet cover, plaster deliberately peeling off the wall and some clothes with arbitrary statements about the male gaze – all do nothing for me. I believe that they all act as a detriment much more than anything else. I would rather it were just Hannamari and blank walls.
Walking in to the grandiose atrium and heading upstairs, one finds a dark room, slightly out of the way. In here is the epitome of what I imagine to be an LSD trip; glitchy retro monitors and a large projection forcing the space the echo a residual glow of harsh colour. It does impact, in the same way as drinking a spiked beverage at a bar would do something to you, although I am not entirely sure if it is pleasant. Maybe a negative feeling in response to a piece, especially one as immersive as this, is as valid as pleasant acknowledgement, if not more so? I am undecided – but it definitely did something to me. Then again, so does pictures of puppies.
Continuing our move upward, we then discover the first sign of the vast scale of the course. Directly ahead are a plethora of areas of study – mixing design with moving image – and to the left, we see fine art. Now, a similar effect is in place as that first room, wherein many pieces almost ruin the stronger works. In the mixed space, gaudy faux-nostalgic statements and advertisements for a feminist bike club (complete with implied period blood) are dominant in the space, while also being rather weak. They are too simple – lacking depth and nuance to the extent that one can only tilt their head in confusion. In the other room, emotionless charcoal drawings and pictures of a woman jumping through trees are some of the most blatant, which I cannot even begin to empathise with. I do not look for background, I stare with a blank expression.
I’m being a Negative Nancy, I know – but that it only because I am getting this out of the way as quickly as possible, as there are four artists that need the be mentioned, due to how they stand above all others. Jess Burgess is one of the most talented contemporary painters I have met, mixing traditional technique with brief glimpses of impressionism and a compositional style not unlike multiple internet browser windows. Kirstie Aylen is reimagining sewing through a performative process, threading the names of the women of stitching in folklore in to leaves, every day throughout the entirety of the exhibition. James Ward provides a very professional interpretation of text, which is almost ergodic in the way it demands to be read. However, one of my favourite artists is also present; Mark Mann. This gentleman creates interior design about homosexuality, with an incredibly ingenious twist – you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t told. Taking to heart how the gay men had to live before that way of life was legalised, the subject matter sits underneath some fascinatingly strong visuals. Hidden in the presence of gay parakeets and faded writing is the true topic, below the surface, as the community once was.
This way of approaching design is genuinely subversive, with form, function and context entirely intertwined, raising it to the lofty heights of ‘more meaningful than my IKEA sofa’ – and don’t get me wrong, I love that sofa.
Once again, this is someone who will get a job in the industry – and I cannot give a better compliment than that.
Speaking of transcendence, there is one more floor above; fine art and photography. Unfortunately, I am going to avoid talking in depth about most works on this floor, as I have severe issues with what was installed. I did study fine art, so I am naturally much more critical of it – but, well. Nothing really grabs me. Even a large projection at the back of the room does very little to engage, despite how it is rather dramatic. Instead, I find myself drawn to two specific artists, both practising photographers. Firstly, I would be remiss if I did not point out how stunning Leo White’s neon pink screens are – which are as fantabulous as they are subtly poignant, considering their subject matter is the cure and prevention of cancer. It is good work, second in my eyes only to Danyelle Farrell’s huge printed images. These are hyper-personal snapshots of singular individuals, honing in on their humanity and heart in a manner that is both individualised and, as we stand staring, communal. Somehow, some way, this woman has captured the nuance in the human subject – contextualising them with their surroundings and letting them behave as they see fit, while also appearing to show something much deeper and much, much more genuine.
At this point, you would be glad that there is a lift in the building, as the last part – of games design and moving image courses – is in the basement. Exposed air ducts and occasional juts of light glimmer in the darkened room which, for the most part, houses quirky animations and music videos. I have to give credit where credit is due, as mediums such as stop-motion must’ve been incredibly tedious and, clearly, the outcome is technically very strong. In spite of this, what stands out to me is the presence of VR – which still feels like futuristic technology. Meandering around a corner, in to a little side-room, a devilishly handsome, bearded gentleman awaits with headset in hand. Over the course of the year, twelve games designers collaborated to create a short game and, while others stepped away to move on to other projects, this student remained. Once you have agreed to immerse yourself, you step upon a floating Greek island and are left to explore around, finding all of the map’s little trinkets. I wont say any more, as I may already be saying too much but, what I will say is: Don’t jump on to the pillar. It makes you feel sick.
Almost single-handedly, this student completed a short (but well-made) virtual reality game.
Someone give this man a job.
Well, that’s all of the exhibition spaces – with many pieces ignored for brevity. In spite of moments of bad curation, a worrying percentage of boring or weak work, confusing labelling choices and full paragraphs next to each piece, it’s actually alright. What is good is how much there is and how varied the components are, although I am confident that you will agree with my synopsis. I can pick apart where parts went wrong or people made bad decisions (if you have to explain your work, you are doing it wrong, etc.) but that is fairly inconsequential. Really, there are people in this show who stand a high chance of being successful – hence why I had to stress that my preferences were based upon both artistry and the potential for industry acclaim. This is all that matters, really, and it is what the university is there to do. It may be a shame that their number is so few - but that is the nature of the beast.
I mean, think about it; if everyone was really good, who could I critique?
I’d have to start reviewing the contextual relevance of local burger joints and, well, ‘the juxtaposition of the gherkin against the bun’ doesn’t really work.
...
Wait, I might actually be on to something here.
NUA’s MA Degree Show is on in the Guntons Building, near St Andrew’s Hall and Norwich Playhouse, 1st – 6th September, 9am – 5pm
Visit nua.ac.uk for more details