Liverpool, 2010.

The Royal Liverpool Hospital is on the verge of redevelopment. The main building will soon be demolished. This was the site for Bridget Riley's brief foray into public art. 1979, asked to decorate the corridors of the new hospital, Riley designed a system of colour coding. One that used pattern and colour intensity to indicate where you were in the hospital. What Riley thought would be simple turned out to be incredibly complex. For respite she went to Egypt. In the temples she saw how the ancient Egyptians had used multi coloured palettes, how they had painted with the architecture rather than trying to obliterate it.

Bridget Riley returned invigorated. Bold horizontal stripes of blues, mauves, pinks, black and whites. Rather than paint applied directly onto the walls she had the designs printed on to vinyl wallpaper, this would hold the colours better, be simpler to clean or repair.

Three years later the designs were painted over. What was planned to be calming and uplifting received a critical thumbs down from patients and staff of the hospital. ‘Too hectic’. The walls returned to drab normality.

No remnants remain. I’ve spoken to those who were involved at the hospital. Questions are treated with good grace and humour, but even now you can tell that they were relieved to see the wallpaper taken down. I wonder whether there are a few rolls in a store cupboard somewhere? It would be interesting to hear what Bridget remembers about the experience. 

Weekend in Manchester

Weekend (detail) (2010) Stefan Zeyen

On the outside of the Cornerhouse cinema there has been pasted probably fifty connecting prints that make a two dimensional version of the memorable scene from Jean-Luc Godard’s film Le Weekend. Walking sideways down Whitworth Street, on the pavement, close to the wall actually produces a real time version of the tracking shot. JLG took ten minutes to cover the distance. It was hard work going that slow in the mini version. I bumped into a couple waiting at a bus stop. It did make me realise how few cars and actors there are in the filmed ‘traffic jam’ and how choreographed the action needed to be. Nearer to Jacques Tati than New Wave.
unspooling.org   

House of Terror

Continuing the theme of turning galleries inside out, Denise suggested The House of Terror in Budapest as an example. A museum, a civil monument documenting the disgusting treatment meted out by Hungarians on fellow Hungarians. Known as the House of Loyalty during the second war officials from the government tracked down Hungarian Jews, overseeing their internment in death camps.  After the defeat of the nazi backed regime the building became the HQ of the Hungarian communist secret police, the AVI. The torture continued until the fall of the Berlin wall.

The architects of the museum have designed the building so that photographs of those killed inside are shown on the outside walls. Conversely, on a wall in the exhibition there are pictures of those who carried out the atrocities. Some of whom still live in Budapest.
www.terrorhaza.hu   

100 jours (2009)

100jours en Paris (2009)

100jours en Paris (2009)

Cycling around central Paris last summer I whizzed past a large wall plastered with photos. Some sort of official document and passport style portraits. It was dark, I was hungry.

The next day I went back. The wall was in the area close to Place de la Republique. There had been sit ins, demonstrations and occupations of nearby buildings by groups of “Sans Papiers” earlier in the year. One lunchtime I had chatted with a group who had occupied a road junction. Without residency papers they were unable get legitimate work, a place to live and were vulnerable to all manner of abuse. Their situation needed ‘regularising’. They were desperate to bring the issue to a head.

I can’t speak French so couldn’t translate the photocopied description about the 100days photo exhibition. I could tell from universal language of the deportation letters that it was giving symbolic support to the sans papiers. The photographs were of people who had fled to France during previous periods of migration. Perhaps they had been taken in the photographic studio next door. History is sketchy. My explanation might be completely wrong. Weren’t the 100 Days something to do with the Battle of Waterloo? 

100joursenfrance.canalblog.com 

Pop stars wife

Someone who successfully morphs the boundaries between visual art, music and storytelling is Laurie Anderson. On Saturday she performed a one off show at the De La Warr Pavilion in Bexhill. I had forgotten about her deadpan humour. It makes you jump to attention after being lulled into the complexities of a story. The process made me laugh.

This is how the Brighton (and thus by default, Bexhill) Argus covered the story. No credit, where no credit is due.

Knitting display

One week after the White Night events a pair of knitted bicycle clips (?) still embellish the hideous monument to Max Miller in Pavilion Gardens, Brighton. So little effort, such a big improvement. 

Performance Talk

Though I will never ever be able to observe it, except in the background to some pictures, apparently my way of taking a photograph is quite stylised. I don’t know how this has come about. Previously I used a small, shoot and snap camera, I had a very mannered stance. Feet flat anchored to the ground, the regulation distance apart, legs straight, bum shoved out, the top half of my body leaning forwards at about twenty degrees, the angle changing as I framed the shot. A glorified tripod, bent awkwardly to strange angles. In the manner of Jacques Tati, petit camera, large man, there was no chance that I could take discreet snaps. People gathered round and laughed. There was I thinking photography was akin to spying.

With digital and camera phones the process has become quicker, but I still have a very distinctive ballet posture. I try to relax. Get fluid. Take pictures on the sly, but always end up making a performance out of it.

Watching Pradip Malde’s talk ‘Haiti: Blind Architect’ and also the Al Pitcher Picture Show on successive days of the Photobiennial has made me realize what a public performance photography is. In all it’s aspects.

Both gentleman stood directly in front of an audience and used photography to illustrate and animate their points. Pitcher to promote his comedy routine, Malde to highlight desperate poverty and the effect on the mental health of an already weakened population.

During their shows both elaborately mimed taking, and in Pitchers case actually took photographs Both used powerpoint type projection to illustrate what they had to say. Performance input, and performance output.

Malde, a professor of fine art photography, told how his pictures had been printed using a platinum/palladium process on a specific paper, and that he was in the process of securing a book deal and writing the commentary himself. Same old, same old routine for documentary photography. One based on being published and academic advancement. The cupboards are clogged full of these books. The slide show presentation was a stop gap until that came to pass. However this performance to a small audience was astute, subjective, and emotive. Right on the button. The news from Haiti over the past few days will be reverberated a lot clearer and with higher energy by those six people who were at the talk.

Slide shows may feel naff, office bound and not as grand as a bound copy or a chi chi exhibition but as a means of communicating, and even as entertainment they can be the most environmentally crisp and sleek route available. Quick in. Quick out. Big fallout. Little detritus.

pradipmalde.com