Polari
'POLARI'
Group exhibition @ VEGAS Gallery
64-66 Redchurch Street E2 7DP
LONDON
www.vegasgallery.co.uk26 Nov - 22 Dec 2009
Private View: Thursday 26 November 18:30 -21:00
artists:
ZOE WALKER & NEIL BROMWICH
SARAH BAKER
WILL TUCK
BRIAN MORRISSEY
CARON GEARY
ROY MORDECHAY
PHILIP JONES
KATE MAYNE
SIMON WILLEMS
PRESS RELEASE:
VEGAS
is pleased to present ‘Polari’, a group project curated by the young
Russian curator Anny Baranova, which brings together nine artists.
Moreover Vegas is happy to announce that this will be the last
exhibition taking place at its original premises in Redchurch Street.
The show comprises a celebratory closing party gesture in itself. VEGAS
will be moving to new premises per January 2010, the new location will
be announced in the next 2 weeks.
Exploring notions of creative
synthetic language and implications of the worlds of the media, cinema,
criminality, ambivalence, of self-defined and undefined identity and
sexuality, the Polari project presents a collection of works that are
directed into the cause and effect of a certain stance of campness and
dandyism, in terms of their realisation.
Ever since the gay
liberation movements of the 1970’s, visual codes and aesthetics
displayed in public space have changed radically. Before this
outpouring of a political demand for liberation, images alluding to
homosexuality tended to be shrouded in occult codes not readily
understood by the larger public; a secret language for only those ‘in
the family’ to understand. But, in the hands of gay artists demanding
liberation –or the generations immediately following them- a new public
visual language emerged side-by-side with the demand for the universal
acceptance of homosexuality. Whether in confrontational images of sex
or more subtle attempts to develop logos to stand for a new gay
identity – for example the Rainbow flag- within decades there would
emerge a new gay visual culture and, most importantly, one that was not
only seen and understood by minority sexualities, but the whole world.
Within
the thirty or so years within which the sense of a gay visual culture
developed and moved into the public domain, we have seen more recent
developments in which, arguably, artists using or drawing on a gay
visual language are no longer limited to artists making ‘gay’ political
statements: ‘gay’ art cannot no longer be understood only in terms of
an autobiographical statement of sexuality on the part of the artist.
Of
course, many gay artists still build on the history of gay visual
culture to make all kinds of statements ranging from the more
traditionally political to critiques of gay culture and its lifestyles.
But, in parallel, we also find artists who do not identify their
sexuality as gay or lesbian also drawing on gay visual culture to
initiate discussions ranging from those about taste through to complex
statements of identification with traditionally oppressed sexual
minorities; new oblique types of identity politics. This is
particularly evident in the work of a number of women artists who do
not identify as lesbian, for example.
In a world in which
‘straight acting’ gay men coexist with pretty-boy celebrities who
openly collude with presenting themselves as both heterosexual and
homosexual objects of desire in the most mainstream of media, it is
perhaps timely that we reconsider the idea of ‘gay’ as a visual
language deployed in contemporary art. When we do – encountering
straight men and women who use it in their work alongside the more
expected use by gay men- it becomes clear that ‘gay’ is no longer
entirely linked with what either the artist – or the audience- gets up
to between the sheets. And, perhaps, it might even prompt us to
consider its relationship to other tangents of the gay liberation
movement, such as the Queer movement of the 1990’s. Whilst the work of
some artists shows a kind of fusion of a gay visual language and a
queer political sensibility, in other cases we might even find an
implicit rejection of the notion of Queer, a sense of disappointment at
its failure to develop more effective artistic languages than it
originally promised.
The work of Philip Jones fuses eccentric
characteristics, dandyism, mythological and almost fairy tale-like
symbolism. In series of works such as ‘Dandies’, he brings the viewer
back into the epoch of Oscar Wilde a time when aesthetics, effeminacy
and sexuality swirled around in a rather undefined cloud, distinctly
sexually suspect, but never really daring to speak its name. Such
extravagant mixes of symbols, hints of kitsch and ostentation are
echoed in the paintings of Will Tuck or are also portrayed in works by
Brian Morrissey, who uses a playful, toy-like and rather ironic
approach in his photographs. Will Tuck’s considered color choice and
glossy finish provide another dimension to the painting, allowing the
audience to indulge in its pure beauty. Whether we are looking at an
object of heterosexual desire or a ladyboy’s secret aspiration, we’re
not entirely sure.
Zoe Walker & Neil Bromwich originally
made a phallic sculptural object as part of a processional performance
referencing the bawdy – and heterosexual- rituals of the rural location
in which they undertook an artists’ residency in France. But, the
viewer might equally perceive it as if it had been developed as rude
prop on a Gay Pride parade float. Their work is frequently noted for
its playful touch and social interaction, often taking the form of
games or sculptural works that seem to invite interaction from the
viewer.
Sarah Baker’s video work portrays the famous writer Jackie
Collins, a celebrated gay icon. This work is inspired by artist’s
fascination with the character and pride stemming from an opportunity
to interview her idol. And another manifestation of a gay icon,
American actress and singer Judy Garland, appears in a painting by Kate
Mayne. Yet in these works, two heterosexual woman artists make use of
the appeal of visual eccentricity and excessiveness associated with gay
culture and lifestyle to intrinsically different ends. In doing so, for
example, they coincidentally raise questions about personas and
identities that appeal to contemporary heterosexual woman having, in
part, originated within the homosexual fantasies and projections of gay
men onto the opposite sex.
By contrast, the works of Caron Geary
embrace a mix of brutality, viciousness of sexual expression and
fetishism, prevailing in more overtly sexualized gay visual language.
Geary’ experimental and slightly aggressive practice hints at the
darker and dirtier side of gay lifestyles to the audience whilst
simultaneously throwing ‘politically correct’ notions of identity –
whether about gender, sexuality and perhaps even race- into disarray.
A
painting by Simon Willems touches on society’s perception of macho-men,
which in this case is a cowboy, the symbol of coolness and
self-confidence. However the style of a cowboy is also somewhat camp,
vulgar and naughty; something that has given this American hero
something of a dubious and double meaning for a long time. The subject
of little boys’ hero worship who can turn into an object of desire for
gay men and even an ideal role model for lesbians. The subject of male
identity is also addressed in works by Roy Mordechay. In the works of
this Israeli artist, drawing on the subculture of Arab bodybuilders,
their longing to be macho through working out their muscles becomes a
motif for certain dichotomies. Apocryphal or quasi-naturalistic
representations, the images are arresting since they simultaneously
question stereotypical assumptions about traditional Arab culture and
focus an irreverent humour on a world in which the visual codes
standing for ultimate –and traditionally homophobic- machismo and the
epitome of gay body culture are, essentially, identical.