Category: Exhibition Review

  • Rafał Zajko: SLOT

    this is tomorrow
    August 2022
    Link

    Slots are commonplace on Blackpool’s Promenade – those mechanical in the penny-pushing machines dotted across the South, Central and North Piers, and the human in cottages. On LGBTQ+ guide Pink UK, an anonymous user gives directions to Middle Walk, a cottage on the Promenade: “Head down Talbot Road, which itself can be quite a cruising area, through Talbot Square and cross the road to the seafront. Turn right and follow the path behind the War Memorial. You may need to walk a fair way before meeting anyone”. Like penny-pushing, success in cottaging is down to chance.

    Five minutes from Middle Walk is Abingdon Studios. Exposed pipes from the building’s radiators lead the visitor from the entrance, weaving upstairs and through walls to ‘Slot’, the first solo presentation by artist Rafał Zajko in the North of England, comprised of five wall-based sculptures and accompanying hand-painted murals. 

    The artist’s previous work draws from the operations and architecture of factories across his native Poland, where industry fell into decline with the collapse of the USSR. Zajko succeeds in echoing local architectural motifs, like the cladding that covered a Wilko supermarket built in 1979 and demolished in 2020. The cladding was salvaged by local enthusiasts and since stored in the collection of the Grundy Art Gallery. A stalwart of an area home to many of the town’s gay venues, the claddings’ reference offers a nuanced mediation of Blackpool, whose buildings echo a tired but resilient tourist industry.

    The reliquary – a container for holy relics that often houses the body parts of saints – remains an important reference. In ‘Prick’ (2022) a single latex finger protrudes and connects to wires which weave across a green mass and impact a single snooker ball. Though still, the works retain an animated quality. In another, ‘Currency’ (2021), a single copper coin enters the slot and transforms into skin-toned latex moulds – a compound as much concerned with industry as it is pleasure – imitating mechanical operations.

    ‘Slot’ fuses labour and pleasure – the finger both apparatus and stimulant.

  • Jamie Crewe: Love and Solidarity

    this is tomorrow
    April 2020
    Link

    The term ‘community’ conjures images of disparate individuals joined by shared interests, experiences, cultures, or religion. But the term also groups unquestioningly, disregarding an acknowledgement that frictions can – and do – exist. Jamie Crewe’s ‘Love & Solidarity’ at Grand Union, Birmingham, the sister exhibition of ‘Solidarity & Love’ at Humber Street Gallery, Hull, offers a conflictual understanding of kinship, and parameters for queer love and disdain. 

    Crewe draws from Radclyffe Hall’s ‘The Well of Loneliness’ (1928) – a novel tracing the life of Stephen Gordon, a “masculine lover of women” who could be recognised as a trans man. The first of two commissioned videos, “The Ideal Bar” – “Le Narcisse” – “Alec’s” (2020), presents a staged altercation between two individuals in a Glasgow nightclub, referencing a scene where Gordon glances at their reflection in the mirror of a gay bar and grapples with feelings of disgust. In Crewe’s interpretation, a space associated with queer intimacy becomes embittered, questioning the assumed solidarities among those with shared experiences. An accompanying video, “Morton! – “Beedles” – “An abyss” (2020), documents the fabrication of well dressings with the artist’s family, friends, and colleagues, prompting conversations around village gossip and transphobia that further evidence cross-communal moments of scorn.

    Well dressings are used to decorate natural springs throughout church communities in Derbyshire before withering within weeks of fabrication. Yet, Crewe’s collaborative relics have been fired, offering a lasting insight into what queerness once resembled and could grow to become. One dressing contains a quote by activist Randy Wicker describing Sylvia Rivera, a transgender activist whose work at the forefront of the Gay Liberation Movement is often erased:

    “[With] all of these awful experiences that went on in her life you would have thought as she got older she would have got uglier and more twisted. And instead somehow she went through this rollercoaster ride of tragedy and suddenly bloomed like a new rose of spring or something – I should say an opium poppy!” (Randy Wicker)

    Following a well-documented feud and decades of criticising Rivera’s assertive approach against his assimilationist policies, this quote suggests Wicker’s appreciation of her work and perhaps an understanding of the disparities between their experiences – his as a cisgender gay man and that of Rivera, a transgender woman of colour.

    The fact remains that queerness is fractured. In the past year, we have witnessed a backlash against the inclusion of black and brown stripes on the pride flag, the platforming of TERF (trans-exclusionary radical feminist) narratives in the media, and the growth of anti-trans organisations. ‘Love & Solidarity’ is a compelling reminder of the potential for queerness to become more inclusive through an understanding and recognition of our different existences.