Dublin Contemporary 2011

Terrible Beauty—Art, Crisis, Change & The Office of Non-Compliance

(Until 31st October)

Claudio Parmiggiana, Untitled, 2009

The Earlsfort Terrace site of Dublin Contemporary is home to an exciting treasure trove of contemporary artwork, featuring over 114 Irish and international artists. Its historic, long, labyrinthine corridors and plethora of ex-office rooms form the perfect main location for an exhibition this size, and uniquely each artist has been given their own room. A word of warning though before you set out: do purchase a guidebook - without one you will be utterly overwhelmed by the extent of work on display throughout the building.

Wang Du, Le Berceau (The Cradle), 2007

The overall aim of this exhibition is to showcase art that captures the spirit of the present time, with each artist naturally choosing to interpret this theme in a thoroughly different way. The extensive artwork ranges from, gigantic sculptural installations to photography, interactive exhibits to illustration, digital media to painting and even includes performance installations such as Amanda Coogan's, Spit Spit, Scrub Scrub: this innovative piece features three performers who inhabit a blue room and communicate with their audience via choreographed movements. 

Dublin Contemporary actively encourages audience participation. A particularly interesting, interactive piece is Mark Cullen's, Ark; I could sleep for a thousand years, where the viewer is invited to lie down in one of the several aluminium sleeping bags arranged on a platform, and stare up at the ceiling where a light installation, vaguely reminiscent of the milky way has been placed. Another intriguing piece is Wang Du's, Le Berceau (The Cradle), which consists (rather unsurprisingly) of a giant, rocking cradle, positioned under numerous television screens. The mattresses of the cradle, which the viewer is invited to climb on, have been printed with the images of crumpled newspapers. The link Du draws between media saturation and the infantilization of culture is strikingly obvious. 

Nevan Lahart, Wankruptcy, 2011

The Irish artist, Nevan Lahart, provides the unavoidable recession reference, yet in a refreshingly humorous manner: his clever cardboard installation, Wankruptcy, mimics the use of the Hollywood Hills as an iconic backdrop as he explores the blatant sexual metaphor of bankruptcy, turned into wankruptcy. Lahart uses travelling rubber missiles and an impromptu, erupting geyser of empty beer cans to put across his message.

Alongside humour, there are also moments for serious reflection: a particularly somber and haunting installation is Theresa Margottes's City's Keys, where the Mexican artist recreates the studio of Antonio Hernandez Camacho, a key maker from her native country. In this eerily recreated studio space, Margottes showcases Camacho's trade in the form of numerous, intricately engraved keys, which are hauntingly suspended across the room on a piece of string. The keys are contextualized by means of a written commentary which describes the harrowing experiences of Camacho, running a small business, in a town riddled with dreadful violence.

Theresa Margottes, City's Keys,  2011

Usually when one visits an exhibition, the curator’s placement of the work of different artist's, side by side, is likely to form a bond of association between these artists in our mind. However, at Dublin Contemporary, the specific allocation of individual rooms to each artist leaves more room for interpretation to the viewer. Whilst this lack of direction might be perceived as overwhelming by some, it will be viewed as liberating by others.

The wealth of artwork on display at Earlsfort Terrace, gives a substantial taster of the ethos behind this innovative festival which is taking place in various locations across Dublin, until the end of October. So hurry, if you wish to attend! Dublin Contemporary may feel perplexing and disjointed at times, but its interesting choice to showcase the work of relatively unknown artists (as opposed to all the big names) and the fact that it offers a very different experience of viewing art, are both reasons for which it is worth visiting.

Jim Lambie, I Remember (Square Dance), 2009

Maarten Vanden Eynde, The Earth Seen from the Moon, 2005

Degas and the Ballet: Picturing Movement

The Royal Academy
(Until 11th December 2011)

Ballerinas are renowned for their distinctive posture, incredible poise, intense discipline and above all, their graceful elegance. These are all qualities that Degas masterfully captured in abundance during his long career; as he observed, drew, painted, sculpted and even photographed, towards the end of his career, numerous dancers. This exhibition is particularly interested in the influence that the introduction of photography had during Degas’s lifetime, 1834–1917.

Degas made hundreds of drawings of dancers exercising in the classroom. Sometimes these preparatory drawings would focus solely on a particular aspect of the dancer’s body, such as the calves and pointed feet; whilst on other occasions penciled notes accompany a sketch of a dancer; or a pencil grid is positioned behind the dancer so that proportions can be worked out correctly. The sheer volume of these sketches, suggest that Degas wanted his work to be accurate from both an artistic and scientific perspective. This is a concern that continued throughout his career, particularly as he became interested in the work of the scientist and chronophotographer, Étienne - Jules Marey, and his scientific studies of movement.

Degas innovatively sketched and drew moving subjects, at a time when photography was not yet advanced enough to do the same. Limitations within the photographic medium, during his early career, meant that ballerinas had to freeze in position for the camera. Much of Degas’s work shows a compelling interest between, depictions of the body at rest, and depictions of the body in motion: The Rehearsal provides a good example. In the foreground of this painting, one dancer rests and another has her costume adjusted; whilst in the background, a group of dancers practice together and another dancer can be spotted hurrying down the stairs.

 Degas,The Rehearsal, c.1874. Image © Culture and Sport Glasgow (Museums)
 Sport Glasgow 

In the 1870s, Degas began an intriguing group of panoramic paintings which depict scenes from ballet practice rooms. Although most of the ballerinas in these paintings are stationary, the way in which Degas encourages the viewer to scan the picture from side to side and from the foreground into the background creates a kind of animation. The implied movement of a stationary object was a key concern of Degas’s and it is depicted in his paintings and sculptures through subtle hints: the placement of a dancer’s feet, her leaning torso, or the position of a raised limb.

Degas, Little Dancer Aged Fourteen, 1880-81,
Image © Tate, London, 2010

As would be expected, Little Dancer aged Fourteen - Degas’s only sculpture that was exhibited publicly during his lifetime - forms the highlight of the exhibition. The curators encourage the viewer to consider this famous sculpture from a new perspective through their arrangement of Degas’s preparatory drawings. These show that Degas originally observed and drew his muse, Marie van Goethem, whilst circling her and moving rather like a film camera would nowadays. However, it was Degas’s trio of Bronze Nudes that stole the show for me. These sculptures show three different phases of the same movement and they were originally made in wax before being cast in bronze after Degas’s death. An interesting paradox exists in ballet, whereby a ballerina must always appear graceful, elegant and light; but also be strong, robust and immovable, whilst holding a difficult position, often with raised limbs and for a prolonged period of time. The extensive periods that Degas spent in the company of dancers, observing their every movements, meant that he was fully aware of this paradox, as his sculptures testify. The agile, flexible figure of a ballerina is depicted in a solid medium and in the process, Degas ensures that the dancer retains all the elegance which forms the crux of her identity as a ballerina.

Degas, Dancer: Fourth Position Front on the Left Leg, c.1883-1888

Image © Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge

As Degas’s prolific sketches of individual ballerinas indicate, he was just as interested in the preparation that comes before a final performance, as he was in the end product. Seemingly inconsequential actions such as a dancer adjusting her dress, or re-positioning her feet, caught his attention. It is Degas’s attention to delicate details and subtle movements, that make his work so impressive. Visiting the Degas exhibition at the Royal Academy made me desperate to take up ballet again.