Au
Orlando Campbel |
Pablo Griss | Diana Beltran Herrera | Andrew Lacon | Fabio Lattanzi Antinori | Matt Rowe | Janneke Van Leeuwen
Reminiscent of social exclusivity, its association with gods, ancient rulers and nobility, the use of gold in art seems unsuited to the democratic, modern world, where it’s currency has been reduced to exactly that – its monetary weight – and if at all used allegorically, it appears to stand as some pejorative, often overwrought symbol for the pursuit of wealth and commerce. Crucially, an exhibition of ‘gold artwork’ must transcend gold as a color, medium, or theme: a sculpture does not necessarily comment critically on ‘gold’ by merely existing as gold-plated object; simply using gold ‘in colour’ or ‘corporeality’ or as an idea verbatim does not quite seem to grasp what gold can inhabit for the contemporary artist or viewer. Today’s contemporary audiences are too savvy, too well versed in iconography of all sorts (as well as the status of gold*) to consider banal incorporations of ‘gold’ as successful contemporary art.
The artists powerfully gesture toward gold’s natural worth, reconsidering it via its natural and environmental significance, and therefore the exhibition adopts its name from gold’s chemical symbol: Au, pointing to industrialism and the ramifications of globalisation: namely bestowing upon it a kind of toxicity, inherent with a kind of negative personification. If not wary, these artists’ usage of gold appears to be critical, distanced and never directly complicit. Au presents artists who present works in gold rather divorced from their previous religious, historical, cultural and commercial weight, in favor of a consideration of ‘gold’ as a critical concept: we find artists using gold not ironically or satirically, but with cognizance and thought in our society. Here, gold is synonymous with the oil spill, the industrialist waste, the environmental disaster, or the market-crash.
Gold’s allegorical means of exalting religious faith and glory – is once again appropriated for contemplative pastiche (but never satire) – where Andrew Lacon’s tiny golden relics (which were once the fingers and bones of Saints mummified in gold) are modernized as ghostly reminders of industrial yards, former wreckages, and economic superpowers of a ‘once glorious’ economy. Furthermore, the expected portrait of a hallowed Madonna is replaced by Van Leeuwen’s mechanical (and medical) instrumentation, however exactingly poised these instruments may be, Van Leeuwen appears to remind the viewer of their lack of spirit despite their gold constituency.
Orlando Campbell’s ‘oil-spill’ paintings, contrasted with Herrera’s impossibly impudent paper-hummingbirds both emerge as environmental commentary – apropos symbols decked in gold for the ever-imminent apocalypse that inevitably (and seemingly perennially) links both commerce, religion, and environment, from Nostradamus to Y2K to Occupy Wall Street. Further, Rowe’s usage of gold appears as an environmental disaster, a leakage, like the former like an oil tanker awash on the beach, like a momento mori of its once exalted significance. The religious and natural seem entirely replaced the pagan (the suggestion of lunacy intended) toward any one natural resource. Finally, Fabio Lattanzi-Antinori’s shamanistic and technological being: lulling and luring as gold once did – reminding us of the promise of wealth, fortune, fantasy, or religious rapture.
Reminiscent of social exclusivity, its association with gods, ancient rulers and nobility, the use of gold in art seems unsuited to the democratic, modern world, where its currency has been reduced to exactly that –monetary weight – and if used allegorically, it appears to stand as some pejorative, often complex symbol for the pursuit of wealth and commerce. To what extent does this precede an exhibition of ‘gold artwork’? Our belief was that any exhibition using this overwrought referent as its message and medium must transcend gold operating one-dimensionally simply as color, medium, or theme: a sculpture does not necessarily comment critically on ‘gold’ by its mere ‘gold-plated’ existence; using gold ‘in color’ or ‘corpus’ or as an idea verbatim does not quite seem to grasp what gold can embody and symbolize for the contemporary artist or viewer. But what exactly does ‘gold’ symbolize?
Au presents 7 artists who offer a compelling, enigmatic approach to ‘gold’ as a point of departure. Taking its name from the chemical symbol for gold, the exhibition Au chooses rather to point to industrialism and the ramifications of globalization; here gold seems to refer to its own materiality (chemically, metaphorically) and while the selected works seem intentionally divorced from gold’s previous religious, historical, cultural and commercial weight, they remain critically aware of its so-called ‘burden of meaning’.
In one way or the other it appears that each of the artists bestow a kind of toxicity upon gold, made inherent through some kind of negative personification: if not wary, these artists’ usage of gold appears to be critical, distanced and never directly complicit – it is certainly not celebratory – there are no homages to Louis XIV the ‘Sun King’ or references to its historical sanctification (at least, not without marked irony). Here, gold is presented as acutely aware of the societal factions from which it has originated, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes of its own petard, it is here synonymous with the oil spill, the industrialist detritus, the environmental disaster, the fallacy in shamanism or the pursuit of a commercial-sublime. Such a critical perspective may at first seem entirely critical – but the question remains whether representations of this most romantic and allegorical of natural resources (and its usage in the fine-arts) can it still seduce viewers with its promise of wealth, fortune, fantasy, and rapture? Can the artist or the viewer ever fully dissociate oneself from its burden of meaning…does one want to?
True, Au presents artists who present works in gold rather divorced from their previous religious, historical, cultural and commercial weight in favor of a consideration of ‘gold’ as a critical concept: we find artists using gold not ironically or satirically, but with cognizance and thought in our society, synonymous with industrialist waste, the environmental disaster, or the market-crash. Orlando Campbell’s ‘oil-spill’ paintings are careful, minute studies, contrasted with Diana Beltrán Herrera’s impossibly poised paper-hummingbirds, both emerging as environmental commentary – appropriately reconstructed in gold for the ever-imminent apocalypse for commerce, religion, and environment, from Nostradamus to Y2K to Occupy Wall Street…(or perhaps more fittingly – a link in which the step from ‘Nature’ to Louis Vuitton suddenly seems ever-so-imminent and logical). Matt Rowe (with Mathilde Lavenne)’s use of gold appears as an environmental disaster, a leakage of crimson-red… a suggestion situated somewhere between blood and Coca-Cola, like a half-mast momento mori to culture and commodity where there once stood unquestionable grandeur. Andrew Lacon’s Land Matters series suggests materiality as well as spirituality: religious relics (once the mummified and gold-foiled bones of Saints) that have been modernized as ghostly reminders of industrial yards, former wreckages, and economic superpowers of a ‘once glorious’ economy.
Text by Kurt Beers
