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Friday, 13 April 2012

Jim Dow: American Studies | Robert Klein Gallery | Boston

Jim Dow’s (b. 1942) photographs focus on the passage of time as it is recorded in landscapes from North Dakota to Great Britain to Argentina. Using an 8 x 10 inch view camera, Dow turns his lens to roadside signs, ageing buildings, and interiors that feel locked in another era. His images honestly record the scenes before his camera, avoiding sentiments of nostalgia while paying tribute to lands marked by past and current residents. A leading American photographer, Dow pushes his viewer to reconsider familiar surroundings and discern the beauty and cultural history hidden in modern landscapes.

Dow first gained attention for his panoramic triptychs of baseball stadiums, a project that began with an image he made of Veteran's Stadium in Philadelphia in 1980. Dow has documented more than two hundred major and minor league parks in the United States and Canada.

Jim Dow: American Studies, 17/03/2012 - 05/04/2012, Robert Klein Gallery, 38 Newbury Street, Fourth Floor, Boston, MA 02116. www.robertkleingallery.com

1. The Sno House, US 11, Moselle, Mississippi, 1981
2. Coca-Cola Sign on Highway, US 78, Burnsville, Mississippi, 1978
3. Real Blue Ribbon Bar-B-Q, Roue 2A, Arlington, Massachusetts, 2000
4. Rawlings Little Pig BBQ, St. Petersburg, VA, 1988
5. Zummo's Market, Airline Highway, Metarie, LA, 1979
6. Pat's Drive-In, Tucson, Arizona, 1980
7. Lunch Counter at Railroad Station, Pueblo, CO, 1981
All images copyright the artist. Courtesy of Robert Klein Gallery.

Art or Meme? | Eva and Franco Mattes | Carroll/Fletcher | London

Text by Bethany Rex

Eva and Franco Mattes' current exhibition at Carroll/Fletcher was Anonymous, untitled, dimensions, variable on Wednesday, Building Stories on Thursday and today's exhibition title remains to be confirmed. If you're interested in the process of naming you can follow the daily change on their tumblr: www.exhibitiontitlechange.tumblr.com

The Mattes' call themselves artist-provocateurs who dramatically disrupt the safe environment and conventions of the art gallery. As pioneers of Net Art, the Mattes' practice inhabits the web and subverts mass media to ultimately expand into and effect the physical space. Their interventions and hoaxes can be traced to the subversive art movements of the Situationist International and Dada, in their diversion of existing cultural productions and the involvement of unaware audiences.

Their first solo show in London is a compelling cacophony of connected facts and fictions where screams echo through the space, the walls are hung with ugly wallpaper and painted blue, green and red; defunt computer monitors and brightly coloured cables snake across the floor, images are suspended from the ceiling; half a museum vitrine emerges from a wall, and in a corner, a replication of Chernobyl's derelict cinema...there's a lot going on in this exhibit.

Aesthetica spoke to the Mattes' to find out a bit more.

BR: Congratulations on opening your first solo show in London! What should we expect?

E&FM: Wallpaper, computers, a dead cat, lots of dead flies and little fragments of famous artworks. Oh, and the title changes every day.

BR: The press material indicates that you will disrupt the “safe environment and conventions of the art gallery.” What are the specific conventions you are referencing here?

E&FM: A lot of our works happen outside of art spaces, on the internet, in videogames or in the street, where the audience behaves very differently than the average art public. For example, if they feel like what you're doing is stupid, they will say that openly and probably insult you. So we tried to bring some of this "directness" inside the gallery space. I never felt very comfortable in a gallery, and so we're trying to convey this through the show.

BR: Could you talk us through some of the key works in the show?

E&FM: There are several works that we are showing in the UK for the first time. Our latest thing is called The Others, a slideshow of 10.000 images stolen from private computers. It's a sort of celebration of digital folklore. The biggest work is a hacked arcade game fitted with a motor that spurs carbon monoxide while played, so if you play for too long you die. While Stolen Pieces is a two years performance in which we’ve been traveling around Europe and the US stealing fragments of artworks from art museums. We're exhibiting all the fragments and the video documentation of the last theft.

BR: You’ve been described as pioneers of the ‘Net Art Movement’- what distinguishes you from concurrent contemporary art?

E&FM: In the past it was just the fact we used computers and the internet to make art, which other artists generally found weird, if not plain wrong. Things have changed a lot in the last years, and nowadays even the most traditional of painters would probably use a computer for one reason or another. So maybe what differentiates us is that we not only take images and videos from the internet, but that we also try to give something back, publishing our works online before they get to a gallery or museum, and managing that they stay there.

BR: You’re work seems to marry some of the conventions of 20th century art practice to popular web culture and destabilize both forms in these interventions. How do you define your practice? Which takes precedence the Art or the Meme?

E&FM: Maybe artworks are memes in their own right? Visual ideas that spread virally and survive the passing of time through infinite variations...

BR: Some of your work is tied to notions of internet hacking and public disruption. How do you find ways to subvert a subculture which already functions as a provocative or antagonistic force? Do you align your work with the spirit of Anonymous and The Occupy Movement?

E&FM: I wouldn't say we try to subvert internet culture really. We actually get a lot of inspiration from all kinds of internet subcultures, being it memes, anonymous, videogame freaks or hackers. I'd be more than happy if we managed to even just give the art audience a glimpse into this huge and incredibly creative cornucopia that is the internet, where art is created and exchanged anonymously and freely, for the sake of it. That's what we tried to do with the work Catt: an anonymous internet meme turned into a sculpture supposedly made - and believed - by the artist Maurizio Cattelan.

BR: Is your work ultimately a kind of Baudrillardian simulacra of reality, both in the virtual and physical realm? How do you hope visitors will experience the exhibition?

E&FM: Our hope is the visitor would leave feeling the "reality of the virtual" is more exciting than "virtual reality". But we'd be happy if they just don't find it a complete failure, I guess.

Eva and Franco Mattes, Anonymous, untitled, dimensions variable, 13/04/2012 - 18/05/2012, Carroll / Fletcher, 56 - 57 Eastcastle Street, London, W1W 8EQ. www.carrollfletcher.com

Plan C - Chernobyl (2010)
Courtesy the artist

Thursday, 12 April 2012

El Anatsui: When I Last Wrote to You about Africa | North Carolina Museum of Art | Raleigh NC

Text by Sarah Richter

El Anatsui is widely recognised as one of Africa's foremost contemporary artists. Most well known for his signature bottle cap sculptures, his artistic practice is punctuated by artworks that utilise a variety of mediums and explore themes of both personal and wider significance. Born in Ghana but actively working in Nigeria, El is inspired by his surroundings. His use of found materials is not a comment on Western recycling, but on giving discarded objects a new life.

El allows for a malleability and impermanence to penetrate his work. With no strict or particular rules for the exhibitions arrangement, he allows his art to mould itself to the space by inhabiting every inch of room. The exhibition includes 61 pieces of his work starting with some of his earliest wood works and spans his entire artistic oeuvre. Organized by the Museum of African Art in New York City, curator Lisa Binder installed the exhibition thematically not chronologically. Arranged so that the pieces create a conversation with each other and the visitor is able to participate in a dialogue with the work. Not focusing on the Western obsession with dates, numbers and historical lineage, this exhibition is organized to illustrate the connective themes in El’s work. Traditional elements such as the Adinkra symbol, colours, line, movement and issues are a continuous theme throughout his work.

Walking quickly through the galleries provides the instantaneous impression that El’s work deals with the intricacies of society and everyday life. Drawing from his own experience, his work examines the continued implications of interactions between the West and Africa. El examines this relationship by exploring the slave trade as well as the way consumerism has permeated Africa’s vast cultural traditions. By embracing tradition, El allows his work to situate contemporary habits, society and politics within the context of traditional practices. Our rampant consumerism has aided in eroding our connection with the past and El’s artwork tries to renegotiate the place the past holds in the present.

Each element of his work successful functions as a single element but also contributes to creating a cohesive unity with the work as a whole; such as his piece Akua’s Surviving Children. Comprised of found driftwood while El was in residence in Denmark, he thought that the wood possessed qualities of displacement similar to experiences shared by slaves. Arranged to evoke the shape of marching people, the image evokes the journey of slaves from their homeland to a life of forced servitude. This piece takes a modern perspective of the relationship between the West and Africa that were founded in 16th and 17th centuries.

One of his most striking pieces was titled Opening Market. A collection of small and large boxes of the most vibrant colours; reds, greens, yellows and blues are situated on the floor. Facing the same direction with lids open, the piece is meant to represent a typical market day. Each box is lined with the colourful ads and discarded wrappers of objects sold at the market and popular in society. Representing how the continued tradition of Ghanaian markets has retained it’s tradition but also become imbued with the habits of contemporary consumerism. The winding path between the boxes invites the viewer to traverse through this miniature market creation to explore their treasures. What unknown treasures have yet to be uncovered?

This entire exhibition of El’s work is a visual feast of bright colours, highlighted by the seemingly unbelievable transformation of ordinary objects and the spirit that each work is imbued with. El has become a force in the global art world, with work that uses, highlights and illustrates the importance of individual aspects of society. Drawing upon his own experiences and unique traditions, his work focuses on the importance of how society, individual and as a whole are represented by ordinary objects. Each work in the exhibit functions cohesively as whole but each element has the ability to function individually. In both Akua’s Surviving Children and Opening Market have singularly elements that work together, proving to the testament that we work well alone but also as a unified entity. Despite our differences in both a historical and contemporary context, we work better together than alone.

El Anatsui: When I Last Wrote to You about Africa, 18/03/2012 - 29/07/2012, East Building, Meymandi Exhibition Gallery, North Carolina Museum of Art, 2110 Blue Ridge Road, Raleigh, NC 27607-6494. www.ncartmuseum.org

El Anatsui
Open(ing) Market (2004)
Tin, Paper, Wood, and Paint, Dimensions variable (1,767 pieces)
Photo courtesy October Gallery

Anthony Earnshaw: The Imp of Surrealism | Cartwright Hall Art Gallery | Lister Park | Bradford

Text by Daniel Potts 

Cartwright Hall sits in the award-winning Lister Park - an appropriate venue in terms of its relatively close proximity to the birthplace of the artist. The survey of the work of this son of Ilkley is housed modestly in one room of this grand edifice, which, for its aging, schoolroom-like aromas evokes the surrealistic mental muddles of childhood. Perhaps such early confusions, with all their cross-wired connotations, form the basis of our appreciation of the surreal. The dream-like associations, projected by us on to whatever form of surrealist media, when they are contrived to be invoked by artists betoken profound insight. When it is executed most effectively it is impossible to tell whether the work has a philosophical basis in the works of Freud, or if it proceeds from pure instinct. Here is such work. Although Surrealism proper ended with the Second World War, its spirit continued. In this survey of Earnshaw's work, it is seen to act as a vehicle for the most delicious oblique and multi-connotative humour.

Such humour is to be found in the early paintings from the 1940s. Untitled (Knight) (1945) and The End of a Perfect Day (1946) capture that confused sense of amnesia coupled with near paranoia of the dream-like, not only with the overwhelming multiplicity of connotations in the representation, but stylistically. The same is true of, what seems to be the pastel drawings, and the oil paintings involving dogs, buildings and ropes. Such an oil depicts, with a distinct and alarming style, a dog apparently escaping from the upper storey of a house with the use of a rope. The humour is amplified by the title: The Future of Pets: Whatever Became of Rin Tin Tin (1966). It becomes clear that the title is key to the overall effect of many of the works. This is evinced emphatically with the use of titular captions in the examples of the famous boxed assemblages, which in many cases, are hilarious and unforgettable. The Last Supper (1999), with all the connotations of that title, involves a wall-mounted, glass-fronted box with hand mirror as the plate in a table setting. The knife of the cutlery is a flick-knife. The connotations of Christian communion along with the violence of the Passion flood over the visitor. Extra meaning is added for the visitor when he/she views his/her own face in the mirror. The inclusion of a bowtie below the mirror, along with the commonplace modesty of the other objets trouve, tips the wink to humour, and laughter ensues. A similar response might issue from many visitors to the boxed assemblage, The Bride with her Bachelors Again: After Marcel Duchamp (1991). Here, in a connotative nod to one reading of the original Duchamp work, the objets trouve seem to connote Christian symbolism. In this case it seems to be the lion lying down with the lamb with marital undertones. Three children's toy lions surround a toy lamb which stands on the cushion of an open jewellery ring box. The backdrop is a section of door with a large doorknocker. The "again" of the title throws up further connotations.

Christian symbolism seems to have been important to the artist as something which is treated lightly. In this way, the formidable seriousness, rather than ideas represented, is satirised in a way that, for many, provides relief. Such relief can be derived from the works executed in a distinct somewhat Blakean style using, what seems to be, crayon on paper, of angels and Adam and Eve. Earnshaw described himself as an "armchair anarchist". The light relief from and rebellion against severe authority in these works would seem commensurate with this description. Similarly, the armchair anarchist's frustration with the inequities of social class stratification can be read in Four-Square and True (1986). Here, in pen and ink, an aggressive-looking rat stands each claw on four top hats: the symbol of privelege and capitalism supports verminous bellicosity. The year of the work puts this in context. Yet, the title lends humour. Many of the works, for example, the twenty-eight, small, square pictures in pen and ink, in distinct style, on the right-hand wall as one enters, contain light philosophical tautologies and paradoxes. The surrealist, multi-connotative humour is conveyed with great and unfathomable skill here. Fans, young and old, of Monty Python, Reeves and Mortimer, and, perhaps, The Mighty Boosh would enjoy this survey. A number of documentaries about the artist and his work are shown on a television in one corner of the exhibition space providing context and biographical information. This completes a highly intriguing and humourous journey.

Anthony Earnshaw: The Imp of Surrealism, 17/03/2012 - 08/07/2012, Cartwright Hall Art Gallery, Lister Park, Bradford, BD9 4NS. www.bradfordmuseums.org

Anthony Earnshaw: The French Connection (2001)
Copyright of The Estate of Anthony Earnshaw. Courtesy Flowers Gallery, London.

Wednesday, 11 April 2012

A Season of Artists' Film and Video | Ben Rivers: Ode to the Flâneur | S1 Artspace | Sheffield

We've been keeping a close eye on S1 SALON: a series of artists' film and video screenings that take place at S1 Artspace in Sheffield. Now in its sixth cycle, S1 SALON 2012 presents three new screenings of work by national and international artists selected by artist Linder Sterling, Head of Sculpture Studies at The Henry Moore Institute, Lisa Le Feuvre and artist Ben Rivers.

S1 SALON was established in 2003 to further S1 Artspace's commitment to new artists and contemporary film and video. As well as providing a platform for artist to present and showcase their work alongside their peers, S1 SALON seeks to establish an international dialogue between artists at all levels. Screening new work alongside archive film, S1 SALON integrates new artists work within the broader history of film and video.

The final installment of the programme takes place tomorrow with Ben Rivers' selection, entitled Ode to the Flâneur. Split into two parts; part one presenting work selected from the open call such as Lindsay Foster's Downward Ascension (Ode to the Flâneur) from 2010 and part two, an additional selection of works from each of this year's guest selectors including George Kuchar's Weather Diary #3 (1988). We're going to see it for ourselves but if you can't make it to Sheffield we have previewed Foster's film above, alongside Sara Bjarland's Takeoff from Linder Sterling's selection and Jenn Berger's The Orange Bathing Suit, selected by Lisa Le Feuvre. 

Ben Rivers' Ode to the Flâneur, 12/04/2012, S1 Artspace, 120 Trafalgar Street, Sheffield, S1 4JT @ 6:30pm. www.s1artspace.org 

We will be screening some of Ben Rivers' work and hosting a Q&A with the artist and LUX as part of ASFF 2012 taking place from 8 - 11 November. Keep an eye on www.asff.co.uk where the full programme will be announced over the coming weeks. 

1. Sara Bjarland Takeoff (2010)
2. Jenn Berger The Orange Bathing Suit (2009)
3. Linsday Foster Downward Ascension (Ode to the Flâneur) (2010)

The Formation of Identity | Shilpa Gupta: Someone Else | Arnolfini | Bristol

Text by Regina Papachlimitzou

In her first major solo exhibition in the UK, Mumbai-based artist Shilpa Gupta uses an eclectic variety of media to explore some of the themes most central to her work: namely, censorship, the particularities of text and script as tools of communication, and individuality versus collective experience to name but a few.

The exhibition is titled Someone Else, after the work showcased in the first floor gallery. The installation comprises roughly a hundred metal cases in the shapes and sizes of various books published under a pseudonym, with an etching of the first edition cover, on which is added the writer’s reason for not publishing under their own name. The reasons are not surprising in and of themselves (‘fear of disrepute’ and ‘fear of disapproval’ are encountered in various guises, including but not limited to parental, societal, or professional). What is surprising, however, is how diverse the permutations of said reasons are, and the similarity of factors influencing the decision to opt for a pseudonym across the borders of gender, history, or socio-political circumstances. The cases are empty, the exhibition guide informs us, ‘to signify the absence of the author’s real identity’.

And yet, the work does not seem to be correlating the use of pseudonym with the absence of ‘real’ identity, but seems rather more concerned with exposing the fact that a name is as arbitrarily connected to a work as language itself is to the world it purports to express and signify. Someone Else suggests that, whatever the name on a cover a book, the writer him-/herself will be judged according to the book’s content: the pseudonym may act as a temporary buffer, but it is the work that eventually will be the author’s legacy, and the measure of his or her ‘true’ identity. The question ‘Who was the ‘real’ Eric Arthur Blair?’ is not nearly as significant as the question ‘How correct was the author of Nineteen Eighty-Four in his vision of a future dystopia, which is our present reality?’ –and, by extension, where is this author situated in the current socio-cultural landscape?

In the main gallery of the second floor, Singing Cloud moves away from the examination of identity and individualism towards a more collectively formulated experience. Made up of 4,000 microphones that have had their function inversed, so as to emit rather than record sound, the work pulsates and sings in a variety of voices and sounds, ranging from the beating of bird wings to snoring, to a chanting chorus of women, to the sound of a lonely piano key being hit again and again. The sounds are gathered up in the same way moisture is gathered in a cloud, eventually reaching a crescendo that reverberates through the work which then falls momentarily silent –in much the same way as a raincloud would reach saturation point and subsequently dissolve into rain. Singing Cloud acts as the embodied metaphor of the overarching experience of human life, transcending the boundaries of time and place and gathering disparate elements together in a harmonious whole.

The two works showcased in the smaller space adjacent to the main gallery simultaneously bring together and juxtapose the concepts of individuality and voicelessness, community and discord. Untitled is a series of photographs in which the artist, donning combat trousers, khaki t-shirt, and military cap, poses  in turn with her hands over her eyes, ears or mouth; another pair of hands (belonging to an invisible person behind her) furthers the isolation by covering the artist’s ears when her own hands cover her eyes and so forth. A sinister dimension of the theme of ‘see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil’ is thus exposed:  you’re hardly ever on your own when making the decision to look away, to keep quiet. More often than not, as Untitled shows, there is someone else there, pulling the wool over your eyes and making sure your ears will stay shut to the world around you, someone who puts their hands over your mouth if you even think about screaming to wake everyone around you up.

There is No Border Here is a work made of pieces of narrow yellow tape, on which the words THERE IS NO BORDER HERE repeatedly appear, stuck together in the shape of a flag. The stripes of the flag bear lettering, a poem narrating the futile attempts to divide the sky, ‘one [half] for my lover and one / For me’. The attempts are futile because the clouds will stubbornly resist such divisions, passing from one side to another and back again, refusing to be pushed or kept away, ignoring the sofas, trenches, and other ludicrous measures of the speaker. Perhaps a haunting reference to the Partition of India and the subsequent exchanges of population and ensuing disputes, the work equally acts as a signifier for any conflict brought about and enforced by division. Denouncing as it does the absurdity of manufactured boundaries, (examples of which abound in contemporary society), There is No Border Here is a wistful hope and a stern reminder of the duty all peoples have to resist letting walls come between human beings.

Someone Else offers a wonderfully articulate study of the inevitable interdependence between the individual and society, between the enforcement (or elimination) of boundaries and the formation of identity.

Shilpa Gupta: Someone Else, 03/03/2012 - 22/04/2012, Arnolfini, 16 Narrow Quay, Bristol, BS1 4QA. www.arnolfini.org.uk

Shilpa Gupta
Someone Else
Steel Etched Books and Shelves

Installation shot, Arnolfini 2012
Image copyright: Jamie Woodley

Tuesday, 10 April 2012

Public Faces and Private Lives | Gillian Wearing | Whitechapel Gallery | London

Text by Daniel Barnes

Before the mundane and grotesque content of anybody’s life could be accessed at a mere click, there was Gillian Wearing, who made subtle, engaging art about people. Her early investigations of public faces and private lives predate Big Brother and Twitter, and in this Whitechapel survey the work appears both pioneering and slightly archaic. The Whitechapel gives a welcome glimpse at the work of an artist who is often overlooked because her work no longer seems shocking, since technology has eclipsed the initial surprise.

Wearing was never shocking in the sensationalist sense of bullet wounds, dead sharks or menstrual blood, but she did enter the scene with a bag full of surprises. Firstly, she made art about ordinary people, while her contemporaries were obsessed with serial killers, themselves or with art itself. Secondly, Wearing made her art with restraint and delicacy so that she teased out of people their secrets without ostentatious interventions into their lives. This Whitechapel show reminds us that the real human drama is always simmering below the surface of a person’s face, which is the central strength of Wearing’s work.

The iconic series, Signs that say what you want them to say, and not Signs that say what other people want you to say (1992-93), remains Wearing’s strongest work. She stopped people in the street and demanded they have a thought to share, with the result that a person’s consciousness spills over a movement frozen in time, captured in the midst of doing something else and always with a tantalising disparity between the look on their faces and the thoughts written on their cards. She is currently repeating it through Facebook, but it lacks the magic because it is trading on the illusion of immediacy that the internet perpetuates, whereas in reality everything in social media is hopelessly convoluted.

This immediacy of human drama is present in all Wearing’s work, and as you walk around the exhibition you begin to feel nostalgic for the sincerity of that bygone age. There is something arrestingly sincere and captivatingly earnest in Wearing, from the way she made these works by walking around with a clumpy video or 35mm camera to the way she is able to coax people into sharing themselves with her. Confess All On Video. Don’t Worry, You Will Be In Disguise. Intrigued? Call Gillian… (1994) still evokes Wearing’s sincerity in her attempt to both charm and protect her subjects and in turn the subjects’ earnest desire to relieve themselves of their secrets as a purging exercise rather than a lunge at fame.

Dancing in Peckham (1994) evokes the pre-YouTube world with real seriousness. It’s just Gillian gleefully dancing by herself, to music only she can hear, in the middle of a shopping centre with onlookers pouring on their scorn and derision. Again, it is a sign of the times that at the time there would have been something surprising about the sight of a young woman filming herself doing something ludicrous in public. The piece still speaks of abandon, liberation and more than a little frenzy as Wearing shows us the bodily expression of her innermost self. It is, however, a lamentable shame that the Whitechapel has decided to show it on a small screen suspended high in the ceiling. It is such a bold statement that it should be capitalised on and projected big onto the wall as you walk in.

The larger ground floor gallery has been divided up into cinema booths for the exhibition of a comprehensive range of Wearing’s film work. Prelude (2000) tells the heartbreaking story of a girl Wearing wanted to work with but who died after an initial screentest, and Bully (2010) uses a community drama group to restage an incident that unleashes inner fears and torments. A chilling collision between the worlds of children and adults appears in 10 – 16 (1997), which shows Wearing’s ability to simultaneously conceal and reveal an individual.

For the last decade or so, Wearing has been making self-portraits in which she wears an eerily real latex mask: her eyes protrude from the sockets of her mother, brother, grandmother, Warhol, Arbus and Mapplethorpe, so that Gillian Wearing is staring at you from the comfort of someone else’s body. These works are terrifying in their Gestalt quality as your perspective switches between the two personalities, wondering if Wearing is trying to escape from herself or trying to make a broad statement about the ultimate sameness of people. This is a constant theme in her work – sameness versus difference in groups of people – which is not fully represented by the glaring omission of her Turner prize winning 60 Minutes Silence (1997).

Wearing’s work is all about identity in the public and personal realms, where is it constantly constructed, questioned, analysed and exposed. The exhibition is nostalgic for a time when identity was personal by default and public by choice without the affectations of social media or even high-tech equipment. Consequently the aesthetic now looks rather rough, even dated, since at the back of your mind you know it looks like that not because she intended it to but because it was the best she could do. This fact makes the work entirely charming in its emphasis on immediacy; it is at once archaic in form and yet contemporary in content.

Gillian Wearing, 28/03/2012 - 17/06/2012, Whitechapel Gallery, 77-82 Whitechapel High Street, London, E1 7QX. www.whitechapelgallery.org 

Gillian Wearing 2 into 1 (1997)
Colour video for monitor with sound
4 minutes 30 seconds
Copyright the artist
Courtesy Maureen Paley, London

Aesthetica in Print
If you only read Aesthetica online, you are missing out. The April/May issue of Aesthetica is out now and includes a diverse range of features from Bauhaus: Art as Life, a comprehensive survey of one of the most influential schools of thought from the 20th century, Growing Up: The Young British Artists at 50, which centres on Jeremy Cooper's examination of the illustrious career, and the phenomenon that was the YBAs and Behind Closed Doors, an intimate portrait of family life in Cuba from photographer David Creedon.

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