Installation shots by Oliver Holms
Katarina Rankovic: still from the film (or performance) The Widow, 2015/20
Oona Grimes: still from u.e u. , 2018 - 9.28 min. iPhone film.
Liv Fontaine: The darker days of me and him from The Chronicle of Chronic Sickness 2019
'The New Model' might be described as a feminist parody via the car industry - combining the stereotypical male fixation on having the latest marque, with the hopes of a woman seeking to escape a conventional role. Burrill herself emerges from a car boot with scarlet lipstick, pinafore and rubber gloves, ready to be given a thorough cleansing-come-makeover in a car wash. Cue the slapstick of her being vacuumed, hosed and dried until she emerges clean and natural, smiling in the sunshine of a fresh start without the lipstick, pinafore and gloves. It doesn't last. The carwash attendant reapplies the lipstick and replaces the pinafore and gloves: the 'new model' is ready to return to the boot. That might also, says Jemima, be read as questioning the worth of the torture that woman put themselves though to feel younger. Her performance on 31 January will also home in on inappropriate norms: as Megaphone Woman she'll tackle how women get to speak less and get interrupted more than men.
Anna Perach: Alkonost, shown above during a performance at Mimosa House, London 2019
Anna Perach uses hand-tufting to make carpet textiles which she transforms into sculptures that are - a little ridiculously - wearable for performance. The private domestic carpet, she says, 'becomes an external masquerade, and elements associated with the domestic sphere operate as an extension of the self'. Perach synthesises female mythic characters and retells their stories as a means of reflecting on our societal heritage and current gender roles. She will present a new sculpture, Pretty lady, that - together with Alkonost - will be activated on 31 January by the performance Travel between worlds. Anna aims to explore the dynamic between personal and cultural myths, and 'how our private narratives are deeply rooted in ancient storytelling and folklore and conversely how folklore has the ability to tell us intimate, confidential stories about ourselves'.
25 minute video in wall-mounted monitor
Ansel Krut, Dale Lewis, Ryan Mosley and Emma Cousin fill the central space with figurative paintings as big as they are ridiculous. Krut says he likes it if viewers drift back and forth between the absurdity of the image and the colour and paintwork and internal rhythms, flicking on and off between the contradictions. That could apply to all four. Cousin's people act out what she calls 'the comedy of how the body works' through groupings which might fail. The implicit danger is evident in Double Garage, in which the figures try to use one another as a ladder to climb out of the canvas. 'It is funny and sad', she says, 'that even if the figures manage it some will be left behind with no one to climb on to reach the top'. Moreover, the canvas has been turned to crank up the absurdity. All of which could stand for the aggressive way in which the ambitious may seek to use others as they climb to the top of the corporate ladder.
A curious carnivalesque past merges with art history in Ryan Mosley's distinctively odd world. A staircase scene echoes Oskar Schlemmer. Its hyper-bearded characters are seemingly dressed in paintings, mostly abstract but one with a pink-shoed leg on his back. Perhaps that belongs to the pink-hatted man on the canvas propped upfront. The men look in turn at abstract paintings, unexpected presences in what look to be Victorian times with souped-up colours. What of the notion that 'to compete' - rather than complete, in the definition we might have expected - 'is to finish'? I like the thought that the word 'complete' is itself unfinished, is missing the letter 'l'. Ryan says that when a painting goes wrong 'it would be easier to quit and start again. So by competing and finishing the stubbornness has led to the characters climbing the final flight of stairs looking at the art, wearing the art and being the art'.
Oil on canvas, 150 x 110 cm
Oil on cotton bedsheets, wood, cement, plaster bandage, Denim, socks and sandals
Karen Knorr: Peers of the Realm, 2015
Rand Jarallah performs Compartment
Adam Hennessey: Robbie, 2019
Leah Capaldi: Still Stock, 2020
What would you rather be – object, body, animal or sculpture? And how would each feel? Late viewing of the show on 22 January is supplemented by Leah Capaldi's hybrid work in which a performer lies - static for two hours - under a cast silicone rubber sheet, their leg poking through a hole in the surface. Various action films are projected onto the sheet, including a dog shaking and several animals in states of hypnotic trance. Putting someone in such a patently ridiculous position is typical of Leah: she loves to disrupt the usual conditions of gallery viewing – doing so previously through scent and intrusive coughing, for example, as well as by drawing viewers into an awkwardly voyeuristic relationship with a passive body. Capaldi's performance sculpture will heighten viewers' own self-awareness, explore how human and animal self-consciousness differ, and probe the point at which a person becomes an object or a subject.
8 Jan: Opening
6.45 Katarina Rankovic: ‘20%’ 3 mins
7.00 Rand Jarallah: ‘Compartmentalise’ 5 mins
7.25 Katarina Rankovic: ‘Long Term Ethics’ 5 mins
7.45 Rosie Gibbens: ‘Side Eye’ 15 mins
8.15 Katarina Rankovic: ‘The Widow’ 7 mins
14 Jan: Film Evening
6.30-7.30 Andy Holden: Laws of Motion in a Cartoon Landscape
Rosie Gibbens: ‘Professional Body’ 4 mins
Oona Grimes: ‘mozzarella in carrozza’ 2 mins
Katarina Rankovic: ‘The Widow’ and ‘20%’ 9 mins
Jemima Burrill: ‘Mouthwash’ 4 mins
22 Jan: late viewing
with Leah Capaldi: performance sculpture 6.30 – 8.30
31 Jan: Performance evening
6.30 Anna Perach: ‘Travel Between Worlds’ 30 mins
7.30 Liv Fontaine: ‘How long does it take to eat yourself to death with a teaspoon?’ 20 mins
8.00 Jemima Burrill: ‘Megaphone Woman’ 20 mins