My friend Paul and I went to The Approach pub/gallery on my last Friday in London, unfortunately the gallery was closed by the time we got there but we did manage to have some delicious beers, then he brought me to an opening at the James Taylor Gallery, which I most likely would never have found on my own (yay for friends!) The gallery is housed in a HUGE Victorian warehouse space (with lots of character and beautiful details) on the back streets of Hackney. The show included: Benedict Drew: The Persuaders, Joshua Bilton: The Arch of Enantiodromia, Martelli/Gibson (igloo): VISITOR, and Dean Kenning: A Voice in your Throathole.
There is sooooooooooooooo much space, they mock us jealous folk with this non-art installation of useless/used up tires.
SO MUCH SPACE. My pictures do not do the space justice, this is only one room, of many, on the ground floor! This space reminds me a bit of the Marian Spore Art Space, located in Brooklyn (which is now sadly closed).
The igloo piece was interesting (2 pics above), you walked into a structure and sat in a boat, as you rowed the boat the scenery projected on a video screen in front of you followed the movement of the paddling. I imagine this is what a fancy video game is like but the imagery in the video was actually beautiful and looked like a place that I would like to escape to, especially today when it is 95 degrees outside!
This room was sort of the gross room, that round shaped, skin colored ball in the background was indeed modeled after a human man’s ball. And it made noise. If I were not so tired right now I would contemplate further.
We enjoyed this sausage finger keyboard action. The “fingers” were playing strange music but it was hard to hear because of all of the other noise from the revelers at the opening. I would label this piece pathetic aesthetic, which I do not have anything against and, in fact, have had my photographs labeled as the same, one day, long ago.
This barber shop was across the road from the gallery, I appreciated their sign and it reminded me of home, although I think the hairdos were a bit fancier than what the kids go for on the Lower East Side.
Then there was THIS! a block away, down a little side street. I must admit I was sort of shocked when I saw Ian Curtis dangling from this Hackney window. And a little sad.