Archives for category: Conceptual art

clearly, i was inspired by my recent visit to wonderful, wonderful copenhagen. the city is full of what you’d call narrative environments. places and spaces that tell a story. makes sense given once upon a time it was home to one of the world’s greatest storytellers, hans christian andersen. or HC as the locals call him.

in this particular scene, a real dog is attempting to conquer a plastic bottle, oblivious to the world around him. and to the fact that he’s in a surreal live painting of sorts…in the front window of a small building. the strangest part was this was not a pet shop window, nor that of an art gallery. it was just there seemingly for the sake of it. likely meant to puzzle passers by like me.

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sometimes you come across conceptual art and you get the idea, but you still think it’s a load of crap. but sometimes you come across it and it just captivates you.

the ‘it’s a small world’ exhibition at the danish design centre features a ‘soul wash’, allowing you to walk through spinning tassels and do just that. created by artists henrik vibskov and andreas emenius, both graduates of central saint martins.

hc andersens boulevard 27
dk-1553 copenhagen v

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i’m no art critic. my evaluation of a work is less intellectual assessment, more visceral reaction. when i go to an exhibit, i usually sweep the whole space to get a sense of the collection, then go back to the individual pieces that i was drawn to for a closer look. after that, i’ll read the narrative for context. counter intuitive, but it works for me.

so here’s my review of german artist thomas bayrle’s exhibition ‘i’ve a feeling we’re not in kansas any more’ at the MACBA: whoa.

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a cross of politically-charged conceptual art and pop art, your perceptions of reality are tested by photo and 16mm film collages, digital animations, cardboard sculptures, paint ‘machines’ containing millions of little figures and, best of all, a vast wallpapered room of colourful patterns that morph into anatomically correct cartoon figures upon closer inspection (and the entire ramp in the MACBA foyer is wallpapered with potato counters in maoist china).

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the sheer volume of detailed works made me wonder how he ever slept. every single piece drew me in. it was mesmerising. and left me feeling like a bit of an underachiever…

check out a rather more sophisticated review of the exhibition here and read the narrative from the exhibition (if only to see the editor’s notes that the museum apparently missed in tracked changes oops) here.