Ruskin
Degree Show 2001
There is a lot to see at the degree show at the Ruskin School of Fine Art this week. Admittedly, not all of it is any good (a torches-and-lenses universe almost works, but for the room being just a little too light… the video of someone smoking a fag may have been enhanced by the presence of additional information), but a few pieces stand out as tributes to the high standard of work generally produced by Ruskin students, and no doubt also as indicators of which names to keep an eye out for in gallery spaces form now on. Having a very contemporary feel whilst managing to avoid the derivative (no Hirst, Emin or Whiteread spin-offs to be spotted - though perhaps a Mariko Mori fan, cf . two beautiful computer-generated carnations), the pieces on show demonstrate competence and mastery in a refreshing variety of media. The serenity of a huge wood wave entitled "Big Air" is oddly not hampered by its juxtaposition with Jennifer Allen's grotesque and disturbing exploration of domesticity and sexuality through video and soft sculpture/costume (despite the accompanying soundtrack which loops onward through the exhibition space like a warped Portishead tape). On the same floor, what initially greets the eye as a messy jumble of primary colours and scrap materials soon transforms magically into the agonised bodies of domestic whores, assembled with great skill from cardboard and wood, and struggling like mad to escape their canvases. If visitors expecting a certain style of work from the art department of an ancient university are surprised by the nature of this exhibition, the piece which comes closest to stealing the show will be even more unnerving. Consisting of fine pencil drawing demonstrating an attention to anatomical detail so meticulous that it is reminiscent of da Vinci, this piece by Rosie Wellesley is, however, intimately connected to those surrounding it. As it warps and perverts the images we might expect to find in a Renaissance frieze into an undulating fungus of decay and dismemberment, the themes of obsession, perversion, and general psychological disturbance evident in many of the works on display are echoed, and it is demonstrated again how the beautiful may become repellent (and vice versa?). NB: the tomblike box in the room's centre is proportioned to contain the artist's (Rosie Wellesley's) own body. A few final tips: stick with the slow video of the bloke drawing, it pays off; check out the slides of the red lights visiting everyday scenes of British life like UFOs in a 'fifties B-movie; and take a camera (the Wellesley piece will be destroyed forever when the show is dismantled) and an open mind. Su Jordan, 16-06-01 |