| CHARGE
IT Constructed of battery cases reprised in the slow process of their decay, the work sparks reflection on our reckless spending of natural resources. The evanescent empowerment afforded by the credit card; those other layered expressions of power - mobility and ease; the moral bankruptcy of First World consumerism: these concepts drive the work. The configurations evoke urban high-rise, suburban sprawl - bastions of the powerful disintegrating into the favelas of the disempowered. Yet the subtle shadings and fossil-reminiscences, the organic forms emerging out of manufactured confines, the play of light across and through the structures, all charge our contemplation with hope of a redemption suffusing the brittle plastic cells within which we compartmentalise our lives. Paula York - Stirling S.A. |
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| "CHARGE IT"
Prospect Gallery, June 4 25, 2006 Reviewed by John Neylon Art critic, author, curator In the first decades of the 20th century, artists were intent on driving deep wedges between art of the past and the modern era. Their key strategy was to use found objects and materials usually mass-produced "non art" items such as Duchamp's bottle rack but also scraps of industrial and everyday materials such as newspaper or linoleum. These artists challenged the community to consider that art and life were inseparable and that art could no longer be defined by media-based traditions [such as oil painting or bronze casting], but could take many forms and be made from any kind of material. These days, working with found, usually industrial, materials is mainstream art practice, unlikely to raise a murmur unless the objects are large animals or used condoms or get encased in urine. But, as Pamela Kouwenhoven's exhibition reminds us, this tradition is not uniform. It consists of many overlapping and at times, diverging paths as diverse as Joseph Beuys' incorporation of rolls of felt and blocks of fat; Robert Rauschenberg's combine paintings; and Fiona Hall's Tupperware hybrids. Kouwenhoven's practice to date has been largely defined by two-dimensional works built from malthoid sheets once used to provide a damp course for water tanks. Kouwenhoven's keen eye for the aesthetics and potential of aged surfaces and forms enable her to exploit the robust texture of this material to produce collages which, in their brooding, pitted surfaces, become archetypal inland Australian landscapes. But her current exhibition presents a different face this time coming up with other treasures in the form of wet-plated battery cases. In their recycling, the tops have been smashed, leaving weathered plastic shells in faded colours. Assembled in groups on clean white walls, these cases take on a new persona. One becomes aware of their strange beauty; a nuance of colours, the weathered textures and the profiling of the shattered outer edges which give, from side on, the impression of a polar landscape of smashed and colliding sheet ice. While it seems natural to want to align this work with the Zen aesthetic assemblages of an artist like Rosalie Gascoigne, the fact that we are looking at the carcasses of gutted power packs does skew the viewing. From a slightly darker perspective [and a side-long glance across the shattered upper edges of the casings] something approaching an apocalyptic vista of smashed and abandoned cities comes into focus. Having Adelaide photographer Michal Kluvanek isolate and photograph individual units has helped close the gap between Kouwenhoven's sense of relationship with the unique visual character of such abject material and the viewer's own sense of visual curiosity. The more Kouwenhoven's resolute practice continues to diversify [along with a stronger metaphoric content] the more that opportunities for such collaborations appear to beckon. THE ADELAIDE REVIEW, JUNE 30 JULY 13, 2006 |
