Light, that fairly unsung-perhaps unconscious-aspect to any successful gallery experience is truly brought to the fore in relation to this group show at the brilliant Arthouse1. Working in great concert and complement with the gathered pieces, light seductively teases out dimension, dynamism, drive, emotion, gently exposing animated curves and whorls of secrets and wiles.
Save for the wild and galvanising taut colour string symphony (Kate Terry’s Thread Installation #48 ) that blazes off the black walls of the side space, an orchestral score of overhanging infinite horizons and alluring intersections that confounds the square dimensions of the room, and the brief colour interventions in the mirrored folded aluminium pieces of Brigitte Parusel (poetically contorted creatures of infinite spatial reflectivity, self as well as environmental), the works are mainly monochromatic upon which the light works wonders.
Ben Gooding’s hand scored aluminium pieces, lustrously treated, drown a viewer in silver vortices, an endless swooning agitation of whirl and swirl (at times reminiscent of a close-up of satiny spills of hair), the occasional sinuous trap of light like a conflagration upon the frame;
Tony Blackmore’s Displaced series, the results of painstakingly assembled hand-folded drafting film beguilingly sewn to frame, continually play with perception and angle and movement, light catching a rigorous geometrical patterning, an amplitude of gradations, a mountainous shifting surface of reveal and embedded shadow;
Maribel Mas’s intricate ink spiral studies are a wondrous conversation between control and happenstance rendered on delicate paper, the eye drawn into boundless depths and variable weights of line, searching for start and end amidst the waves of expansion;
Jeannie Driver’s intriguing mutable sculptural work Cyclical Flow composed of shredded strips of a4 documents with a charcoal overlay joined to the wall by a sequence of elegant spikes (referencing, in this viewer, gas holders or period female hairstyles) can be playfully manipulated during the run of the exhibition into new guises and impressions, a wary, palpable sense of the indefinite and disingenuous in its malleability and constant conversion;
Wendy Smith’s restless, rippling, extended grids-heaving with optic overlaps and thrusts-create tremendous squalls of harassed energy and longing desire (Iris, beautifully positioned just outside the room holding Kate Terry’s piece, seems aroused in response, helplessly caught up in an ecstatic surge towards its body; Overjoy, providing the final bit of muted colour, is a riot of cross-purpose and conflicted feeling).
All artists adhere to a principle of the “iterative” form, a studious repetition, a compulsion and obsession for concentration of mark making, a process by which the viewer is transferred quite beyond the material into a profound, nearly primal, rapturously rhythmic perceptual realm. Iterations runs through 30 November