Three whole years to explore and learn is what you get with a Bachelor degree – the freedom to focus on the process of discovery. After having spent some years in the working world it sounds amazingly luxurious, and a few hours of walking around the graduate exhibition at Goldsmiths University of London shows that the students have taken advantage of this to the fullest. Experimentation and exploration of concepts seem to have been at the core for a lot of students’ practice.

The graduates of BA Fine Art & History of Art and BA Art Practice have produced a very broad range of work, from painting, photography, sculpture, video, all the way to over-sized hairdriers and lots of rooms hidden behind curtains, enveloping the viewer in sound and light.

Sasha Campbell

Ewelina Bochenska

With ‘A taste for perfection’, Abigail Jones presents a series of drawings that make for an intriguing read. ‘London you are looking really fine today’, one of them reads, dated 11 March; the label says it’s an autobiographical project. For 7 January, Jones writes underneath a set of lipstick marks: “‘The great thing about lipstick’, said the sales assistant, ‘is how it really lets us girls play with our identity.’ This made me hate her a bit. Then I bought the one called Toffee Waffle. I think it really says ‘Damn, Girl’.”

Abigail Jones

Robert James’ piece, ‘The Fragment Project’ is made from large slabs of broken glass and steel wires. It’s lovely to look at and must have taken ages to assemble, but without any more information available it’s hard to know what else to make of it. Only when I leave do I discover there’s a catalogue available with more information about each artist, so this is my own fault, really. But still I can’t help but think it would have been easy enough to add a paragraph about the work underneath the nametags, especially as the vast majority of the work is on the conceptual side.

Robert James

Elena Colman is one of several students whose work was presented behind a curtain, inviting the viewer to step inside and immerse themselves in the experience. With ‘Cave’, she prompts her audience to walk through a dark red tunnel, leading to an almost entirely black room at the end. Fumbling your way inside, your heart leaps into your throat as a flash goes off, causing the artwork on the walls to brighten up and then fade back into darkness.

Rebecca Lancaster-Gaye

The development of the work is part of the presentation for a few of the students, including Rebecca Lancaster-Gaye’s 2D and 3D figures, and Anastasia Shin’s paintings and film. Next to the projector stands Shin’s painting of its insides, showing the individual frames of the film as they whirr through to create a moving image. Lacking the catalogue I don’t know what it means, but it seems to say something, and I guess that’s what matters.

Anastasia Shin

Hannah Davis

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The BA Fine Art & History of Art and BA Art Practice degree exhibition is open Sunday 26th June between 10am and 4pm, and on Monday 27th between 10 am and 7pm – Goldsmiths University, New Cross, London SE14 6NW.

The postgraduate art degree shows run between 14th and 18th July. See here for more about the Goldsmiths graduate shows, or click here for more details about the Goldsmiths University arts department.

At first glance, the seven artists making up the ‘States of Reverie’ exhibition couldn’t be more different. Colourful, playful paintings from Malgosia Stepnik are set against dreamy oil-paintings by Clare Chapman – contrasting sharply with Wayne Chisnall’s vivid sculptures. But as the title suggests, they all present a version of a ‘State of Reverie’, where the viewer is invited to drift off into a dreamscape.

The surreal drawings by Chinwook Kim merges human beings into the landscape, using soft colours, patterns and curves. It’s hard to tell what the medium is, but the brochure says the South Korean artist has used Chinese ink on paper. It looks like untreated canvas though, creating an organic feel. While very different in outcome, the same can be said for Ann-Marie James’ pencil drawings. London-based James re-works found imagery from anatomy books, and the result is oddly cute, even more so in real life.

Boner (detail) by Ann-Marie James

LG White’s two contributions ended up being my favourites from the show. Hanging side by side in brown frames, the tiny black and white prints by the Dutch artist presents a sort of post-apocalyptic world of humans and angels. ‘Inside a bubble’ shows two lovers who, in view of an angel, have taken their Volkswagen bus into the woods outside the protected city dome for a moment of privacy.

Inside a bubble by LG White

The Scream Gallery drew a crowd for last night’s opening, with patrons spilling onto the pavement for some fresh air in a wonderfully mild January night. The variations between the artworks means there will be something for everyone at ‘States of Reverie’, with another contribution of note coming from Guillermo de Zamacoma. One of the Mexican artist’s photographs shows a woman twirling in the air, surrounded by butterflies amidst the trees. The butterflies in question are endangered Monarchs, says the brochure, native to the Mexican mountains where the shoot took place. It’s comparable to Sam Taylor-Wood’s brilliant self-portraits where she suspended herself using ropes, removing them in post production. Guillermo de Zamacoma’s lady looks like she might actually be leaping in this picture though, although with those shoes that part might have been just a dream.

By Guillermo de Zamacoma. All images are copyright of the artist, courtesy of Scream Gallery.

‘States of Reverie’ shows until 20th February at the Scream Gallery, 34 Bruton Street, London W1J 6QX. For more information see our listing.

Ada Zanditon was inspired to use ethically and environmentally conscious solutions in fashion design after she heard a talk given by Katharine Hamnett. Katharine speaks from a very authentic and informed position that inspired me to question the purpose of design and how it can impact the planet. For both ecological and economic reasons Ada decided to focus on design processes that eliminate waste. In practical terms she creates zero waste patterns and saves any remnants to use in other garments or as stuffing or binding. It’s a matter of innovation and efficient resource management. She is also careful about where she sources her fabrics, finding it more of a help than a hindrance to have ecological constraints over what she can choose.

Her clothes are known for their sculptural qualities, a fact she attributes to her fascination with sculptures, architecture and geometry from an early age. She is particularly attracted to biomimicry in design and is inspired by the work of artist Anish Kapoor. But what I most like is the intimate connection between clothing and the human form. It is the presence of the human figure that brings a design to life…

Read the rest of this interview and see more illustrations of Ada Zanditon’s clothing in Amelia’s Compendium of Fashion Illustration, alongside interviews with 44 other ethical fashion designers and 30 fabulous fashion illustrators. You can buy the book here.

When members only art club Love Art London invited me to join them on a sculpture art walk through Hyde Park I jumped at the chance. I love a guided stroll, especially on a balmy summer evening. But dressing up straight from work? Nice idea, but unlikely for most despite the lure of a fiver off the ticket price if you dressed up as a Victorian. Instead we all (briefly) donned fake stick-on moustaches – that universal symbol of Victoriana – and marvelled at the outrageous attire of the goth girl from Florida.

Gathered beneath the Wellington Monument we were given a brief history of Hyde Park, romping from visions of Henry VII shooting deer through to the biggest event of recent times, Live Aid. We were then introduced to our two knowledgeable tour leaders, a pair of ladies studying for PhDs at the Courtauld Institute. Katie Faulkner led the first group off whilst we followed Ayla Lepine, an expert in Revivalist Gothic Architecture and a Pugin aficionado.

Katie Faulkner and Ayla Lepine from the Courtauld Institute of Art.

The Wellington Monument is a nude statue of Achilles, made from melted canons and commissioned of sculptor Richard Westmacott by some aristocratic ladies as a symbol of Empire. But it didn’t quite turn out as they expected, and thoroughly embarrassed by his exposed dangly bits they insisted on a fig leaf to protect his modesty.

Achilles by Faye West.

A bit of a walk westwards soon brought us right out of the park and across the road to our next statue – created in the 1950s by Jacob Epstein as his swansong, Pan, or the Rites of Spring, shows a joyous family accompanied by a dog, rushing away from the city smog towards the parkland to symbolise progress and community. It was built in front of an unprepossessing 50s office block and was largely ignored. At present it is girdled with a construction company’s wire fencing as a new prestigious address, One Hyde Park rises behind it. We learnt that there is some confusion over the fact that this isn’t actually a real postal address, thus annoying the extremely rich owners of these new condominiums. One can only hope they at least appreciate this fabulous work of art in their front drive.

The Jacob Epstein statue in front of One Hyde Park.

Jacob Epstein Rush of Green by Gareth A Hopkins. This sculpture seems to have numerous names.

A quick jaunt back towards the Serpentine – accompanied by a bit of impromptu Owl and the Pussycat poetry – brought us to the newest statue in Hyde Park, Isis by Simon Gudgeon. Erected only last year the smooth statue of a bird takes its name from the goddess of nature and sales of commemorative plaques and miniature versions of the sculpture will raise money for a wildlife centre.

Reading the Owl and the Pussycat.

Isis by Jenny Robins.

Crossing the road past the Serpentine Gallery we came to the next imposing sculpture. GF Watts was also a painter and brought his rough brush strokes to the figure of Physical Energy – a muscled man and horse charging towards the statue of Albert in the distance. It was made during a time when ideas and places were things to be conquered and took inspiration from multiple ancient warriors including Mohammed, Attila the Hun and Genghis Khan.

Physical Energy by Octavi Navarro.

Our next visit was to Brampton’s Peter Pan standing just inside Kensington Gardens, a popular statue that caused a lot of controversy when it was first built. Even as the story of Peter Pan held the nation in its grasp, how was an author granted such a fabulous spot? We can wonder this now as they did back at the turn of the last century… Barrie claimed that he created to give pleasure, and from the gasps of excitement as we surrounded Peter Pan and stroked the worn rabbit ears like excited tourists, he succeeded.

Peter Pan Statue by Vicky Yates.

An undoubted highlight of the walk was a mini rendition of a scene from Peter Pan given by two wandering actors.

Then it was onward to catch up with the other half of our group under the daunting glittery gold structure of the Albert Memorial, built by George Gilbert Scott and finished in 1872, over ten years after Prince Albert died and 20 years after the Great Exhibition it commemorated. As we chomped on handmade iced moustache biscuits we learnt that by the time it was completed the majority of tasteful Victorians considered this Gothic wonder a gaudy affair, and for 80 years, up until recent times, Albert ended up covered in black paint.

The Albert Memorial by Lisa Stannard.

Two hours after we started it was time for the walkers to adjourn to a nearby pub. Learning obscure facts to impress friends and chatting with some friendly art lovers as we wandered through the leafy environs of Hyde Park was a delightful way to spend an evening.

Love Art London – The art scene, exclusively tailored – is the brain child of Chris Pensa, who left Sothebys to create an accessible club for people who love art. For a very reasonable fixed membership fee you get to attend three events every month, from glass blowing to twilight tours of grand houses. And I can’t help thinking… if one were single… this could be an even better use of your money than joining an online dating service. Don’t the profiles always say “I love to travel, watch films, and go to art galleries” anyway? *ponders*

Next up Love Art London will run a guided tour around the new Ernesto Neto exhibition at the Hayward Gallery.

I recently stepped out of London’s unusually baking sun to enjoy an afternoon visit to the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition. On reaching the courtyard, the whole place seemed to be in high spirits with Barry Flanagan’s bronze hares prancing around and the ordinarily stern permanent statue sporting a floral sash.

Photograph by Naomi Law

During the largest open exhibition in the UK, the labyrinthine rooms of Burlington House play host to a swarm of artists, from the unknown to the infamous, waiting to surprise visitors around every corner. Everyone is welcome to submit work to the exhibition each year, resulting in a diverse collection ranging from painting to architecture, and sculpture to film. The majority of the works on display are for sale, and although the prices predictably reach the astronomical, there are several pieces accessible to those with more modest purse strings if you take a closer look.

This year’s theme is Raw, which according to David Chipperfield, co-ordinator of the architecture room, signifies ‘vitality, risk taking and a necessary sense of adventure.’ Stephen Chambers, the main co-ordinator of this year’s show, states that raw art is ‘fresh, new, visceral and affirmative. Some of it is fairly scary too’.

Perhaps one of the most talked about pieces in the show is David Mach’s Silver Streak, a ferocious larger-than-life gorilla made entirely from wire coat hangers. These are surprisingly effective in creating a sense of weight and movement – he’s an imposing figure!

David Mach’s Silver Streak, illustrated by Paul Shinn

Mach appears again just behind the gorilla with Babel Towers, a huge and complex collage of an outlandish seaside town with the mountainous ‘tower’ ascending into the clouds.

On entering many of the rooms, your eye is dutifully drawn to plenty of bold and large-scale works. Somehow the flamboyance of these pieces drew my attention to the smaller or less immediately-noticeable pieces, and this is what I have largely chosen to focus on.

My childhood fascination with anything miniature (and consequent hours spent creating minute little things from Fimo) was happily indulged by the collection of architects’ models and drawings in the Lecture Room.

Visitors are treated to views of buildings in their ‘raw’ forms, as seen through the eyes of the architect. The methods of construction and presentation of these models is as fascinating as the designs themselves.

It will come as no surprise that I spent the longest time in the Small Weston Room, which is filled with over two hundred smaller paintings, some no larger than a postcard.

Several otherwise everyday scenes are beautified in oils: Francis Matthews’ The Coombe depicts a Dublin street corner whilst Josephine Greenman uses the familiar blue and white of a traditional dinner service to render miniscule domestic settings in Silence I & II.

Amazing craftsmanship can also be seen in Claire Moynihan’s Moth Balls, 2010; dozens of moths are intricately embroidered onto their own Alpaca wool felt ball.

In the Large Weston Room, David Borrington predicts the state of the high street in 2020 if a certain supermarket is allowed to continue its invasion of our neighbourhoods. Globull Internashll Tescgoows 2020 is a stark reminder of the need to find an alternative.

David Borrington’s Globull Internashll Tescgoows, courtesy of the artist’s website

Just around the corner Oran O’Reilly’s beautifully comic Rizla, after Hokusai shows the famous Great Wave surging from a pack of cigarette papers. Maybe not such an odd pairing considering the prevalence of Hokusai’s wave in poster form in student accommodation up and down the country (admittedly including my own not so long ago).

Also currently on display at the Royal Academy, and well worth seeing, is a collection of work by academicians who have passed away over the last year. I was particularly taken with Michael Kidner’s painstakingly drawn geometric forms in No Thing Nothing.

If you can’t make it to the Royal Academy, you can see work from A-level students selected for the online exhibition here.

All photographs courtesy of the Royal Academy, unless otherwise stated.

Once upon a time I assisted a well known stylist on a shoot with Ron Arad. We went to his vast warehouse studios in Camden to take the photo for a magazine, and my abiding memory is of the courtyard in front, which was littered with the carcasses of old chairs.

Ron does chairs. This is a man who seriously, seriously loves something to sit on, so it comes as no surprise to find that the entire upper gallery of this Barbican exhibition is devoted to his many chair designs.

Fun with a rusty old typewriter as seat pad.

The Rover Chair. Image courtesy of the Barbican.

The gleaming metal version in pride of place.

Here we can trace the journey of Ron’s love from the early days – when he casually tossed aside a career in architecture to pursue dreams of product design – up until the present. At first he took a higgeldy piggeldy approach to their construction: the chair that made him famous was one constructed from the leather car seat of a Rover. In one room we discover how he adapted and changed this original concept before culminating in the final denouement: a sleek recliner in gleaming steel proudly showcased in front of a digital LED screen. For why stop at just one product when you’re onto a winner? Herein lies the essence of Ron’s career – straddling the creation of one off works of art and mainstream manufacturing with gleeful abandon.

Image courtesy of the Barbican. This was popular in trendy restaurants.

Image courtesy of the Barbican.

So what defines a Ron Arad work? Aesthetically he has messed around with all sorts of materials, especially in the early years, but if I had to pin it down to a couple of things, I would say he is principally concerned with bulk and sheen. Rotund forms bulge ominously towards the ceilings and floors of the small upper galleries, suggesting the swallowing of any daring seatee. Delicate this ain’t. Comfortable? Maybe, but we aren’t allowed to try. I particularly love a smooth red and white plastic chair, glowing like a giant boiled sweet. But I think I want to lick it rather than sit on it. Is this the reaction one should have to a chair? Semi-phallic pieces appear more sculptural than useful. Shiny metal surfaces reflect the gallery-goers like distorted mirrors, and automated rockers set the chairs in perpetual motion as directional lighting throws dramatic shadows against the encroaching walls.

If we aren’t allowed to sit in the chairs upstairs there is much fun to be had stretching out on the various seating arrangements that populate the large open downstairs gallery. Particularly with my austostitch app in hand. On the walls there are bookshelves – his famous curved Bookworm, an impressive patchwork map of America and a giant bookshelf wheel that maintains an impressively upright angle as it regularly slips down a long slope. Some of the most interesting items are the models that Ron has sent out for mass production, complete with scribbled markings.

In side rooms we discover Ron’s other projects, including some experimental lighting that plays with the direction of beams so that GOD reads WAR, and a giant disco ball. But it is in his recent return to architecture that Ron really goes to town, even if not much seems to have actually been built other than in Israel, country of his birth. The rest represents little more than extreme flights of fancy, huge brutalist monstrosities designed to house his chairs but destined to forever remain toy models.

His architectural models leave me cold. I mean, I love a bit of brutalism, but there’s a time and a place. Architecture now needs to take into account the environment.

The exhibition left me pondering when the time is right to have a retrospective. When is the work of an artist deemed of high enough calibre? Until recently Ron Arad was head of product design at the RCA and he is still very much an active designer today. This in itself makes for an interesting angle, but does he deserve such a major retrospective? I’m not convinced. At times it felt to me very much like this was the work of a one (or two or three) trick pony. Who, despite the title, likes very much to sit down.

Ron Arad: Restless is on until the 16th of May at the Barbican Art Gallery.

What makes a work unfinished? And, if a work is ‘unfinished’, what makes a work ‘finished’ and how should an incomplete work be viewed? Elliott Smith’s last album, ‘From a Basement on a Hill’ was famously not finished because Smith died early, at 34. Other singers like Johnny Cash made sure that they controlled their legacy down to the very last minute. When Cash realised he was dying he recorded the vocals for sixty more songs, some of which were recorded after his death. One of these, ‘Hurt’, is widely considered as his epitaph and will bring a tear to the most hardened soul.

Eva Hesse, courtesy of Eva Hesse estate

A work can also be ‘unfinished’ because it was never intended to be ‘finished’ in the first place. This is the category I feel that Eva Hesse’s ‘Studioworks’ fall into. Last weekend I went along to the much acclaimed exhibition of at the Camden Arts Centre. These works were meant to be experimental, test-pieces not intended as ‘gallery’ works. They were essentially ‘unfinished’.

Installation Views, Photo courtesy of Andy Keate, Courtesy Camden Arts Centre

Eva Hesse creates frail, delicate works. They look ready to melt, break or drop into oblivion. Their materials: latex, fibreglass, plastics, are famously difficult to preserve, explaining the dimly lit rooms and careful display. At the Arts Centre they are encased under museum plastic boxes. Empty cavernous shells of aged, peeling objects sit side by side, labelled like the mummified remnants of a human body. It is like we’ve been invited into some medical museum, the viscerous skin-like quality of her work both beautiful and slightly unnerving.

Eva Hesse’s collection of wobbly bits and bobs, curated by Briony Fer, might leave those unfamiliar with Hesses’ creations a little underwhelmed and wondering what all the fuss is about. For a die-hard Hesse fan like me, they are one more clue to this mysterious, minimalistic artist who lived a tragic life and died too young; Hesses’s mother committed suicide when she was 10 and Hesse herself died from a brain tumour at 34. Looking at photos of her in her studio, she has a very attractive James Dean quality about her- a popular comparison made at the time and often dismissed by her friends and critics.

Eva Hesse, courtesy of Eva Hesse estate

However, it’s all too easy to get carried away with the myth of the artist. What you need to keep in mind is the absurd quality of her work. Hesse’s delicacy came about naturally but what she aimed for was a play with objects, materials and ideas.

Ingeminate, courtesy of Hauser and Wirth

‘Ingeminate’ (a work not included in the exhibition), has an air of futility about it. These two cord-wrapped balloons are joined by rubber tubing, leading nowhere and resulting in nothing despite the sexual connotations of both the appearance and name of the work. Her ‘Studioworks’ repeat the same ideas and shapes over and over in different materials; she is testing them out, looking for the best way to express these absurdities.

Hesse’s little unfinished experimentations do not need to be seen as the frustrations or fragilities of a tormented artistic soul. Her repetitions, reproductions and latex lumps suggest an originality and comical outlook. They may look unfinished but what does that mean anyway?

Eva Hesse’s Studiowork exhibition runs until the 7th of March 2010.

Mariele Neudecker, ‘400 Thousand Generations’, 2009. Steel, fiberglass, water, salt GAC100. 153 x 113 x 55 cm. Courtesy the artist and Galerie Barbara Thumm. Photo courtesy the artist

I love the Royal Academy of Art. It’s a venue that is always a delight to visit and their blockbuster exhibitions are in my view great value for money. It is more fun than job duty to go on behalf of work to visit such shows! Earth: Art of a Changing World ran from the 3^rd of December 2009 to the 31 of January 2010 and as I made my way to the RAA, I must admit I was intrigued by the title and did not know what to expect. GSK Contemporary 2009, the second annual Contemporary art season at 6 Burlington gardens, featured new and recent work for 35 leading international contemporary artists, including commissions from up and coming artists.

Mona Hatoum, ‘Hot Spot’, 2006. GSK3 Stainless steel and neon tube, 220 x 220 cm. David Roberts Collection, London. Photo Stephen White, courtesy White Cube

With all the recent debate about Climate Change and the world becoming increasingly concerned with the fate of our planet, I guess it’s only fitting that the art world would jump on the bandwagon. What was Tracey Emin doing there being interviewed in front of an embroidered calico she exclusively created for the occasion? Titled I loved you like the Sky, 2009, this was typical Emin’s fare but I couldn’t help but wonder what the artist was doing there; Tracy Emin is more renowned for her appropriation of traditional female crafts than her discourse on the earth’s stability.

Edward Burtynsky, ‘Super Pit #4, Kalgoorlie, Western Australia’, 2007. Chromogenic Colour Print. © The artist, courtesy Flowers, London

With hindsight, it was a rather peculiar show with a jumble of many different medias, rather like an overview of how the various offshoots of the arts are currently dealing with issues of sustainability, ecology, the role of the artist in the cycle of human and cultural evolution and so on. Such shows have to try hard to tie it all into an overall visual and experiential aesthetic. Did it work? Yes and no, but I left feeling educated and marked by some of the artwork on displays.

Emma Wieslander, ‘Derwentwater I’, 2006. c-type print, 30 x 30 cm. © Emma Wieslander

Call me naïve and it might sound corny to you but I believe art can change the world one little step at a time. I guess you wouldn’t be reading Amelia’s if you did not believe in that too just a little bit. The artists in the sections Destruction and Re-Reality unquestionably have faith in that axiom. In Tracey Moffatt’s mesmerising video collage Doomed, 2007, the viewer is bombarded with spliced-together Hollywood disaster scenes and forced to consider his /her fascination with disaster. The macho behaviour of the upper-middle class Israeli man who owns a 4×4 solely for “sport/play” becomes an exercise in futile nonsense highlighted by Yael Bartana in Kings of the Hill, 2003.

Yao Lu, ‘Spring in the City’, 2009. C-Print, 120 x 120 cm. Courtesy of the artist and Red Mansion Foundation

Yao Lu’s Spring in the City, 2009 was my favourite piece; Lu’s photograph of mounds of rubbish, somewhere between classical ink painting and photography, is a seething critique of the radical upheavals China is experiencing right now. The chard remains of a forest fire form the basis of Cornelia Parker’s Heart of Darkness, 2004, a beautiful installation between 3D charcoal drawing and wood sculpture. She says: ‘this forest fire seemed to be a metaphor for the disastrous consequences of political tinkering. From the hanging chards in the US elections, to the cutting down of rainforests to grow bio fuels to power hummers.’

Cornelia Parker, Heart of Darkness (detail), 2004. Charcoal from a Florida Wildfire (prescribed forest burn that got out of control). 3.23 x 3.96 x 3.23 m. Courtesy the artist and Frith Street Gallery, London

The problem with a show like this is that its honest message and best intentions are rather muddied by having a big corporate player like GlaxoSmithKline sponsor it. The irony of having this company, one of the leading pharmaceutical and healthcare giants attached to this particular show was not lost on me. The press release advertised them as being “committed to improving the quality of human life by enabling people to do more, feel better and live longer. GSK is one of the largest givers in the FTSE 100 and has a long history of supporting art initiatives that encourage creative thinking.” What I read between the lines is that this is a great PR coup for a sector that does not always wear pristine white gloves and dove’s wings…Shame, really.

Antti Laitinen, ‘It’s My Island I’, 2007. Video. © the artist. Image courtesy the artist and Nettie Horn. Photo: Antti Laitinen

It is now time for the absurd to take center stage. Swiss-born “imperfectionist” Urs Ficher makes the gallery goer rethink his or her own reality and I am grateful to the New Museum for introducing me to this brilliant artist. Ficher is an artist renown for his non-traditional creations. Thinking the world as a populated center of objects that interact and create an artificial reality, his aim is to call the viewer’s attention to his singular inner realm; his interpretations of what this life is are conveyed through different types of installations. New productions and iconic works are aplenty and together compose a series of gigantic still life and walk-in tableaux choreographed entirely by the artist. I find myself exploring neither a traditional survey nor a retrospective but the culmination of four years of work. These new productions reveal the true scope of Fischer’s universe and I am enthralled by what I am discovering.

Above photograph courtesy of Vanesa Krongold

Fischer has taken over all the three floors of the museum. Illusion and reality are intertwined in the artist ‘s show thanks to a game of trading places and multiple reflections. Chrome boxes are arranged in a grid of monoliths that create a cityscape of mirrored cubes onto which the artist has silk screened a dizzying array of images. I think it’s perfect; It’s just how I’ve been feeling when walking about New York city – drunk from trying to take it all in! It is very interesting how the artist plays with bi dimensions; I am strangely attracted by some disregarded toys. Its all about combining the reality through dimensions, perspectives, and collage. The viewer is thrust into an uneasy place, trying to understand how to walk in this new world. The hyper real state of the objects are meant to represent your and my reality…

2009 Plaster, paint, bread 10 x 21 x 15 cm.

Urs Fischer presents an installation that turns the Museum’s architecture into an image of itself—a site-specific trompe l’oeil environment. In a maddening reproduction exercise, each square inch of the Museum architecture has been photographed and reprinted as a wallpaper that covers these very same walls and ceiling it is meant to portray. A piano occupies the room, appearing to melt under the pressure of some invisible force. Simultaneously solid and soft like a Salvador Dalí painting in three dimensions, this sculpture seems to succumb to a dramatic process of metamorphosis.

Marguerite de Ponty.

On the fourth floor, Fischer presents five new aluminum sculptures cast from small clays and hand-molded by the artist. Hanging from the ceiling or balancing awkwardly in space, these massive abstractions resemble strange cocoons or a gathering of enigmatic monuments. Fischer is an engineer of imaginary worlds who has in the past created sculptures in a rich variety of materials, including unstable substances such as melting wax and rotting vegetables. In a continuous search for new plastic solutions, Fischer has built houses out of bread and given life to animated puppets; he has dissected objects or blown them out of proportion in order to reinvent our relationship to them.

In 2007, in a now-legendary exhibition, he excavated the floor of his New York gallery, digging a crater within the exhibition space. Throughout his work, with ambitious gestures and irreverent panache, Fischer explores the secret mechanisms of perception, combining a Pop immediacy with a Neo-Baroque sense for the absurd. And I am glad a taste of it!

The exhibition Urs Fischer: Marguerite de Ponty is ending on February the 7th, 2010. The New Museum is a modern building located in 235 Bowery Street, New-York.

Danish designers Sofie Hannibal and Nan Na Hvass (pronounced with a silent H) are in London on the eve of their new exhibition at the Kemistry gallery in Shoreditch, running until 27th February. Having first been invited to put some work together a year ago, Losing The Plot was completed in just six weeks. Sparring off each other in that easy way that really really good friends and work partners do, the girls describe the thinking behind their colourful work and how their long relationship with the band Efterklang came about.

Hologram (detail)

When did you start working on the exhibition?
S: Well, we left everything to the last minute so the real work only began in November.
Oh no, so did you have to work really hard over the Christmas break?
S: Well, no, Nan Na was in Istanbul for the New Year for five days with her boyfriend Rasmus… who is in the band Efterklang.
Oh, I didn’t realise that was who I was speaking to when he emailed me!
N: It was our 5 year romantic anniversary but I had to pay for it [metaphorically], by working extra hard over Christmas.
S: I left her alone though, I only sent one email.

We’re sitting in the fancy boardroom of the ad agency above the gallery. I think I hear a cat. Nan Na shifts in her swivel chair. Miaow it goes. Hmmm. Not a cat then.

Do you like cats?
S: We have 3 feral cats living in the courtyard of our studio.
N: We’re quite crazy about animals – Sofie used to have a dog.
S: It died.
N: It was a fat barrel shaped one with little thin legs and a triangle head.
S: We did talk about getting another studio dog, but we have a studio elf instead; it’s made of wool and lies all stiff in a hole in the wall.
N: We picked it up in a fleamarket.

Spot the aforementioned elf.

What is your studio like?
S: It’s in the basement of an old house and we share it with others.
N: It’s an old building so all the walls are crumbling but it’s a charming area with lots of little shops.

Sometimes their studio is messy. (Not as messy as my house I’ll bet). And for the past four months they have had one full time intern who helps out with research and sewing.

Was there a brief for this exhibition?
N: No, but we decided to base the designs on statistics, data and numbers; taking inspiration from the patterns. At first we wanted to collect our own information from surveys [to turn into designs] but we felt it could be confusing and might tie us down. So we decided it would be more fun to be open ended because it forces you to focus more on the media without getting lost in the content. So there is no real information.
S: It’s a very free translation, so for instance with the pie charts – you can invent yourself what each colour represents.
N: We looked at Edward Tufte, [described as the "Leonardo ad Vinci of data" by the New York Times, fact fans]. He’s done 3 or 4 books where he collects different information and graphics and celebrates their prettiness. For example the diagrams and instructions for dancing steps.
S: We started in earnest on December 1st.
Blimey!
N: No no we started on the screenprints before that, we were thinking about them in mid November, but it’s hard to find a screenprinting place in Copenhagen.
So where did you do them?
S: We can’t actually say where we did them…

At this point dear reader I have been sworn to secrecy. So, my lips are sealed. You’re never going to know. Can I have a free print now please? [I really really want one. It's so bad when you just want things isn't it?]

Statistical Insignificance. I’d like this one please. Isn’t it just so gorgeous?

What other mediums did you use?
N: Well, we’ve worked in wood before so it was a bit stupid to do it again because it’s very difficult, but we did… it’s very heavy, then you have to cut, sand, prime and use two layers of paint – so it’s very labour intensive and slow. Our studio is too small so we used Sofie’s basement party room.

Hologram (detail)

I hear you met at high school. Tell me the story.
S: We became friends pretty fast.
N: I remember dying your hair when I hadn’t known you very long!
S: Then we went to an after school art class together.
N: It goes to show that you should always draw in public so you can discover that it is a mutual interest!
And weren’t you already working together professionally whilst you were still studying for your Ba in Visual Communications? I can’t imagine many British students being that motivated.
S: Well, there are only two design schools in Copenhagen so you have to be very motivated to get into one in the first place.
N: But in general I was a bit bored at design school…
S: So you seek out other stuff…
N: I started doing Efterklang covers whilst I was still at college.
Where did you meet Rasmus?
N: I met him at a Christmas party – he tried to brag about being in a band but I didn’t know them so it had no effect.

The first artwork I remember seeing by Hvass&Hannibal, for the Efterklang album Parades

Funnily enough Sofie’s boyfriend is also in a band, Turboweekend. Soon the girls were painting the walls in nightclubs during their spare time. I always dreamt I’d have the cool boyfriend in a band when I was their age. Didn’t happen though. Pah.

An album cover for Turboweekend. You’ve got to love it, it’s bonkers!

What instruments do your boyfriends play?
N: They both play bass.
S: They’re the cool ones!
N: They play squash together sometimes but their music is pretty different…
S: …and we all go on holiday together.

Me, jealous? Never.

What kind of music does Turboweekend make?
N: I’m not sure what you’d call it, intelligent party music? Electropop?
S: I don’t know, I’d have to ask, but it’s pop music of some sort.
N: We listen to music constantly when we are designing, especially the bands we’re designing for. We just did some stuff for Clogs, which is a great band.

New artwork for Clogs. So beautiful.

The new Efterklang cover for Magic Chairs.

Your latest cover for Efterklang features ribbons being swirled in a courtyard, how did you design it?
N: We completed it just before we started work on this show. All the fabrics were hand dyed and sewn.
S: Then we practiced waving them around in the yard. (see pic below)
N: We worked on the set designs and costumes for two big Efterklang shows in Denmark last year, which was really fun.
S: Then Efterklang won an award for the best dvd release.
Did you get a mention?
S: *pulls face*

Sofie painting ribbons.

Waving the ribbons in the courtyard.

Costumes designed by Hvass&Hannibal for the Efterklang concerts.

It’s a bit of a departure from your usual work, I get the sense you don’t really want to describe yourself just as illustrators?
N: We’ve been talking about this a lot lately; the illustrator label doesn’t quite feel right as we do lots of other stuff, but it’s the part of our work that’s been seen the most. We do a lot of spaces and interiors and we’d like to expand and do more art direction.

Interior of the Vega Nightclub.

In front of the wood panel Let’s Twist Again, a piece that exemplifies Hvass&Hannibal’s approach to colour.

How do you actually work together, in practice?
S: To begin with we used to send digital images back and forth, but now we work much more individually on specific projects and we talk a lot to make sure we agree on certain things like the colours.

Ah. The colours. If there is one thing that makes a Hvass&Hannibal piece so instantly recognisable it is their wonderful use of colour.

How do you come up with your colour schemes?
S: We have favourite combinations of colours
N: You can see this really well on the end wall [of the exhibition]. We have preferences for what works well next to another colour – this is usually a bright colour next to a complimentary but less bright version.
S: We tried to come up with new bold combinations for this show.
N: …I was surprised when I looked back at our work and we could see that even though we’ve tried to make specific choices about colour everything does look a bit similar from a distance.

What about the all white piece you did for the Danish Railways Magazine?
S: It started out as a papercut with lots of colours
N: …but then the drawing told us to do it.

For Form Magazine.

And I’d love to see the stuff you did for Form Magazine in Germany. Didn’t you get to showcase some specialist print techniques? As you know I love to fiddle around with such things myself. What was your favourite?
S: We got to do some really nice pearly ones and glow in the dark, by my favourite one to work with was sand.

What about the food faces? I see you have one as your screensaver on your computer.
N: It was initially planned as a poster for a festival, but they didn’t use it.
Did you eat your creations afterwards?
N: No! But I think we’d like to experiment with mediums more.

I particularly like a few of the other projects you mention on your website [which is very good readers, you really should check it out] – can you tell me a bit more about your Save the Rainforest with Art project?
N: We were asked to do a project with a youth design school and wanted the theme to inspire and then we donated some of the money [from sales] towards saving the rainforest. Maybe we have a bad conscience [about the content of our art]… but we’re driven by aesthetic pleasure, and we just love choosing shapes and patterns.
S: I think you can be political in your everyday life and in how you work. We are very conscious of how we consume in a private kinda way.

Before they can attend their solo private view Sofie and Nan Na are off to the launch night of the If You Could Collaborate exhibition down the road, where they are also exhibiting.

For If You Could Collaborate, with Anne Werner.

What did you do for If You Could Collaborate?
S: We did a piece with the artist and tailor Anne Werner, sort of an Op Art tapestry.
How on earth did you find time to do that?
N: Luckily she did a lot of the sewing!
S: We need little helpers to help us.

What did you think of what happened in Copenhagen during the Cop15?
S: I think it’s ridiculous. We have a Reclaim the Streets protest every year and I once got caught between the police…
We would call that kettling here.
S: Yes, so I got away somehow but my friend got arrested, as did another one who was just going to get the newspaper. It was so ridiculous that everyone who got arrested was able to sue the police.
Did you attend any of the demos this time?
N: No, it’s quite sad but we were working all through December…
S: It’s strange, I feel we should’ve been participating but we had no time… and I actually got really frightened after the last time [being kettled] and that’s a real problem.
N: So we were just sitting in our basement, isolated from all the news.

Do you find that there peaks and troughs when it comes to earning money?
N: Yes!
S: We’re actually talking about making a long term plan to describe what we are doing and why.
Do you have any plans afoot for the future?
S: We’re going to north China in April to do a lecture at an arts academy who found us through some books.
Do you think you are they well known now?
S: It’s difficult to know… but I think we are, it depends who you ask!
Any other plans?
S: We want to get a webshop and a blog but we’re going to have to wait till the end of January, and then we have a little helper who is going to do the programming.
N: Yes, a young man has offered himself.
Can I have one too? I really need one of those.
S: We’ll sell tote bags, cds that we’ve designed, that kind of thing.
Do you sell anywhere at the moment?
N: You can buy some stuff on artrebels.com.

For sale on Art Rebels.

Lastlly, do you ever argue?
S: Yes… sometimes
N: But it’s never very dramatic, not exactly arguments, just that sometimes we just get tired of each other.
S: It’s never physical though!

They both laugh, in that easy way of theirs.

Nan Na and Sofie.

So there you have it, an introduction to the wonderful world of Hvass&Hannibal. Two immensely talented girls who’ve found the perfect foil in each other. Get along to the exhibition if you’re in Shoreditch, buy one of the limited edition prints here or just make sure you visit their lovely website to keep updated on their many projects. As well as being super pretty it is also informative and easy to use – just how every website should be. It’s no wonder Sofie and Nan Na are on a roll.