Rowdy - Never Smile At A Crocodile

Sartorial Gallery
London
4 June – 27 June 2009

all photos: NoLionsInEngland except Romanywg where noted


Burning Candy crew of Bristol and London has knack for pleasing both fans of graff and street art. A crew show in October 08 was followed in short order by a Sweet Toof solo show in Dec/January and now it’s Rowdy’s turn to rock his skills at Sartorial Gallery in London.

On the streets, Rowdy is best known for his crocodiles with their oversize teeth and luminous eyes.


Burning Candy – Brick Lane, London


Occasionally cameos come from a scraggy wild faced fox and a prickly hedgehog, which like the crocs are invariably given menacing snarls and grins.


Rowdy/Sweet Toof



Rowdy/Sweet Toof/Cyclops/DScreet


Recent isolated examples of indoor daubings which have cropped up at urban art auctions have suggested a preference for the abstract, it was a pleasant surprise of sorts to find the large upper room full of crocs and foxes familiar from the streets. Indeed, a very substantial mobile of menacing wooden crocs the same as ones which used to be seen glued to road signs, gates and doorways dominates the room. Little jasper will grow up a twisted and terrified brat after having one of these hanging over his crib.


Never Smile At A Crocodile


Rowdy’s anthropomorphised animal characters cruise an urban landscape of offices and towerblocks, the town is the swamp and the crocodiles are the king predators. Bold primary colours and a simple style gives the Rowdy panorama the feel of nursery book illustrations. Curiously, about half of the paintings are called simply “untitled”


Untitled


Rowdy’s vision is clearly a city environment where danger lurks. The menacing half hidden predators cruise the streets and hide behind buildings. What do they signify though? Burning Candy gallery work has historically empathised with the underdog, the outcast and the outlaw, so possibly Rowdy’s characters are criminals. Perhaps they are the authorities, the rozzers, the bodies who would love to catch graff crews in the act. One painting which does have a title is Displaced Bank Manager, the dishevelled appearance and manic stare conveys an idea of a fat cat on his arse through greed and incompetence with only his pension pot to keep him company whilst his mates the crocs continue to lurk deep in the streets. Hang on, we’re back to crims again, a classic case of mixing up your crocodiles and allegories.


Displaced Bank Manager


A trio of very large canvasses create a night time urban panorama, the black night allow the illumination of neon lights and buildings o develop a luscious glow in these pieces. The cities are built on rivers and crocs patrol these waters. This trio didn’t look like they formed a tryptich but that was impossible to confirm due to the crowds, that’s what you get you place the bar next to the set piece paintings. At least you didn’t have to walk too far from the front door to get you free beer, so who would argue that the priorities were wrong?


Untitled


Rowdy has a love affair with a double image composition. Street pieces often incorporate double ended crocs, twin-headed with no tail like in the Burning Candy Brick Lane piece photograph at the start, this compositional structure is repeated in the gallery where the cityscape often includes a waterfront, giving him the chance to create reflections. It probably not just coincidence that some of the best photos of Rowdy’s work in the wild involves water reflections.


Synchronised Swimming – Rowdy In The Gallery



Crocs In A Swamp (detail of original photo courtesy Romanywg)


There is a very architectural feel to the small collection of paintings downstairs which lift the paintings up from the pure abstract like a stone skimming over water. Some of the paintings have an incredible depth, the layers dare eachother to cross the room or burrow back into the walls. The pictures invite you to step into them, perhaps then to turn around and stare back out at the world, who knows, perhaps you’ll see grinning crocs and wild eyed foxes staring in.


African Fence


Within the abstract pieces, stare long enough and perhaps the vertical and horizontal impressions resolve into proxies for buildings, horizons and rivers (so, not pure abstract then)


Benfica


Late night car journeys, peering at beacons and neon signs through rainswept windsceens are darkly captured in Botafugo (a place in Brazil), at least that’s what comes to my mind.


Botafugo


You could lose yourself in these for hours. Where the sense of urban landscape fades away to leave just distant horizons, the trick seems to be accomplished by switching from well defined acrylic blobs and runs to bursts of spraypaint.


Untitled


Rowdy has an effective and evocative technique, but technically probably isn’t quite at the same levels of accomplishment demonstrated by Sweet Toof and Cyclops but that’s a bit like saying the Beatles weren’t brilliant musicians, the effect is the important thing. Rowdy doesn’t lose his street content or skills in transferring to the gallery yet the work stands well in comparison with almost all other shows flying the Urban Art tag this year. And you definitely have to see the pieces in person to appreciate some of the subtle layer effects properly.


Untitled. tinny by separate negotiation


The set of pics from the show can be seen here.

Appetites whetted for a recollection of the Burning Candy Show at Sartorial in October 2008 can obtain satisfaction here.

Sweet Toof’s ultrabrite gallery performance in December 08 went up and down, up and down till it was clean and sparkling.

Jeff Soto – Inland Empire

Stolen Space Gallery
London
14 May – 7 June 2009

all photos: NoLionsInEngland

One characteristic of the austere and spendthrift new age we live in is that the great American giants of the urban art scene have been noticeable by their absence from London this year – give or take a Ron English show in the past week. Jeff Soto bucks the trend by coming to Stolen Space for a new solo show – hold on to that sentence, turn it over and over and see how many words make you feel gooooood.

Wandering over to the Truman Brewery last Friday to have a daylight peek at the show we un-expectedly find Jeff Soto merrily painting away on an outside wall, and some would have us believe that this is the first time in a long time he has painted without the benefit of a ceiling.


Jeff Soto Lives


Soto eschews the purists pre-occupation with the spray can, applying his acrylic paints with a “normal” sized art paintrush. The fine-ness of the draughtsmanship leads to a plea for loan of a finer paint brush, we didn’t have the nerve to make our offer of a strand of hair too loudly. I say “we”, this is the royal version as of the small bunch of observers I was the only one who actually bothers with a comb these days.


Greetings From California!


Stretching my employer’s patience over what constitutes a reasonable length Friday lunch break, I wander down to the Whitechapel end of Brick Lane and find two more Soto wall pieces. A third is Work in progress and a forth remains un-discovered –something to chance upon in the near future hopefully.




Soto’s “Inland Empire” show presents 21 new acrylic on wood paintings and a couple of small edition prints. First glance suggests a kind of sci-fi futurism in a world of ghostly plants, dark galactic spaces and furry mutants.


Love Can Surpass All Obstacles


Many of the compositions have a slightly bleak or post-apocalyptic landscape effect with recognisable “old world” features, a car here, telegraph wires there with centre stage taken by fragments of shattered remnants of a ruined eco-system.


Flag Carrier


Soto’s work is reported as featuring strong personal and political themes and with this show the chosen role is harbinger of environmental doom. Nature’s Wrath shows a fanged beast of various flora suspended in a demi-world of noxious fumes and sparking chemical eruptions set above a blasted landscape featuring a nodding onshore oil pump.


Nature’s Wrath


Soto’s concepts are painted at various scales, with orbital circles suggesting paths of atoms at the sub-molecular level, rising up to exploding cars at the human scale and Mother Earth bearing the scars of man’s poisonous destructive activity at the grandest scale. All on the same painting.


Decay And Rebirth


Motifs which recur include rictus grins of a skeletal gumset whether actually in a skull or in a symbolic world-as-furry-mutant, and overgrown shaggy hair, fur or foliage. In Self-Destructive, Soto appears to reference a idea that nature herself lures us with her beauty but prompts us to destroy it to access her rich minerals, woods and oils.


Self Destructive


Scrutiny of the detail reveal an astonishing precision to the painting, an illustrator’s skilled hand being very evident. Although the themes are dark and dense, the paintings themselves posses a wonderful warmth.


Diamonds (detail)


Many of the paintings are done with a very surrealist composition with fantasy futuristic overtones. One tends to be reminded of the lurid covers of books in that certain section of the municipal library where only the sci-fi geek, the day-of-the-triffids nerd and the lost dare wander.


I.E. Moon


Furry animals and shaggy haired humans populate some of the pictures, the tufted fleece of these figures echoes something like the accepted representation of a mammoth’s coat (how do the palaeontologists know what that looked like?), perhaps in Soto’s future world our fate has been to endure a reverse evolution to survive the perilous environment he has created. It is not clear in the “Self Portrait” is Soto beating his breast and accepting blame or pleading victim status. At first glance I thought he had painted himself enjoying a toke through his pre-neanderthal beard.


Riverside Self Portrait


Fantasy art, sci-fi books and comics are the last refuge of the irretrievably adolescent and I have never been able to get any further than Douglas Adams, so it comes as a shock to me to find that I love Jeff Soto’s work. “Inland Empires” was so good it prompted something that the last dozen shows since Kid Acne at Stella Dore have failed to do – it restored my enthusiasm for uploading a few pics and banging out a few words.


Turqoise Skull


Words can’t do justice to either the content of Soto’s painting or to the beauty of his craft so compensate for the inadequacies of the write up by checking a set of show pics here:

The Ti(des)zer...They Are A Changing? ?

A fairly prominent wall in Shoreditch, almost a whole building 'taken out'. . . HA and ID crews in attendance....




Buffed by the trigger happy council boys like everything else? Who knows!

But by christ if this is the shape of the future state of Shoreditch, I like it!

Kid Acne – Smoke And Mirrors

Stella Dore Gallery
Rivington St, London
2-25 April 2009

all photos: NoLionsInEngland

You can take the kid off the street but you shouldn’t take the street out of the Kid. Sheffield’s renaissance man Kid Acne covers the graffiti, gallery artist, music producer and DJ hipness angles and has staged his first London solo show in London at Stella Dore.
Kid Acne occasionally illuminates walls of London with colourful masked cat-girls, showing great effect from an economic cartoon style.

Towards the tail end of 2008 Kid Acne introduced a 1 foot tall army of Bouddica-like women pasted around the footings of many London walls and pillars, All the women had warrior like garb, occasional lavish fur stoles, a few injuries and each carried a sword. It was clear they were by Kid Acne but not exactly clear what these women were about.

Kid Acne’s first London solo show opened at Stella Dore gallery, so achingly hip it even has paps staking out the Eine-painted front door. Street Artists are under pressure these days to have a few more tricks up their Kangol sleeves than just a few stencils on canvas and, luckily, Kid Acne has mounted three light boxes just inside the door. Why lucky? Well as soon as the gallery doors admit the first few rubber-neckers a machine hic-ups quantities of dry ice Spinal Tap would be embarrassed by, the diffused glow from the light-boxes casts a lighthouse beam guiding Shoreditch’s cool and thirsty to the buckets of beer.

The lightboxes have a collection of black images which at first glance seem to reference some runic iconography or Eygyptian hieroglyphics. Close inspection reveals a more intriguing set of truths.

Melhor Que Nada (Better Than Nothing)


A semi-naked women in suspenders with a crop pony-rides another semi-naked women with a halter in her mouth. Architectural columns and details, garden tools, blindfolds, strange garb, strange handshakes, symbols of squares and triangles, detecting a pattern?

What are the women up to? Well apart from the aforementioned sexual shenanigans which hopefully you have ceased drooling over, there are women gathered around a table arms raised, arms linked, clearly joined together in some kind of secret society, a coven of women involved in a séance it seems, communicating with the dead and raising their sisters out of their graves. The strange garb, one trouser-leg rolled up, the strange symbols, a builder’s square and compass, illustrations of hands joined together, suddenly blatantly obvious Freemasonry references abound. Those columns, they’re the five orders of architecture, five different forms of pillar and pillars are central symbols in the freemason’s cult.

Diagrams


The checkered grid below the blindfold woman with the hangman’s noose round her neck, that’s the mosaic pavement said to be the floor of Solomon’s temple, alluding to cardinal virtues and the kind care of providence. (Ain’t google great). The Freemasonary link sends us back to re-assess the ritual content in the lightboxes, ritualism and secrecy are key features of a Freemason’s gathering and the twisted construct Kid Acne creates here is that the rituals are being conducted by women. A Freemason’s lodge is generally a male enclave, so perhaps the women are taking the men on at their own game.


Diagrams

One or two of the details are actually more appropriate to an Ann Summer’s catalogue than the Freemason’s guide to symbolism. These toys may bring a smile to a maiden’s visage and present a message to the male of the species warning that he can be replaced.

Diagrams - Detail

The revelation of the un-expected themes fires our curiosity, feeling our way around the edges of the gallery through the clinging fog, now imbued with a much more sinister overtones, fingers tip-tap and fumble across a set of eight wooden etched Ouija boards. One or two of the boards feature Kid Acne trademark Warrior Women and the set sustains the theme of ritualism developed in the lightboxes.

Ouija boards

Ouija board of course have critics from across all religious and scientific communities concerned about occultish communication with demons and there are calls for warnings of the strong likelihood that your best mates may be revealed to be complete shits out to spook you by pushing the glass around.

Ouija Board


The set piece displays are two groups of 15 Stabby Women, single female figures, often topless, all looking alert and outwards, nothing introspective or self absorbed about these women, all bar one have swords, a few wear disguises, all have at least one aspect in which the erotic element of an empowered woman is brought to the fore. No there is no more powerful stimulant of the male mind than an erotic image with a story attached, imagery and stories go together in the world of soft porn. So the priest said.


Stabby Women

The Stabby Women clearly have a mission, possibly they are engaged in a quest or a hunt, or are on the defensive but the images lack a narrative that really tells us what they’re actually up to. The intelligence gained from the mixed images on the lightboxes may suggest their enemy is the male of the species, but faced with a Stabby Women on her own, probably when she’s at her most dangerous, there is only guess-work and you know how deficient in the intuition department men are.

Stabby Woman


The show print is a two colour edition of 25 screenprint in a choice of green or copper colours.


Smoke And Mirrors - Detail


Our bare-topped bandana’d Stabby Woman heroines get their moment in the sunlight in a pair of 4 colour screen prints produced by Choque Cultural of San Paulo, possibly explaining the Portuguese titles.


Melhor De Nada


A freestanding cutout masked girl, semi crouched on the floor emphasises the close links of Kid Acne’s style to pop art, in fact it is very hard to see the simple stark characterisation of the female’s distinguishing characteristics without Julian Opie springing to mind.

So there we have Kid Acne’s art. Very easy on the eye, the pop art stylisms are pleasing to behold, but underlying the images are themes of cultism, deception, secret societies, female ascendancy, ritualism and the occult. If only the story of the Stabby Women wasn’t so frustratingly incomplete.

See more Smoke And Mirrors pics here.

dr. d “HMP Brainwash Launderette”

222 bethnal Green Rd
London
5 March, continuing.

all photos: NoLionsInEngland

dr. d is one of London’s more mysterious street art institutions, their (the mystery extends to doubt as to whether dr. d is singular, plural, boy or girl) manipulation and subversion of street billboards flickers at the edge of public conscious, playing games via a medium most of us have learnt to filter off our radar screens.

dr. d rails against Big Brother state intrusion, the supremacy of commerce’s self interests and suppression of basic human rights in totalitarian states. They probably haggle upwards over the price of their fair trade pint of milk as well. Scale is not an issue with Dr. d, simply the bigger the better. The most recent example being this response to Welsh “Best newcomer 2008” Duffy’s rapid escalation to coca cola bunny.

dr. d - Amy spreads those Duffy Rumours


dr. d has maintained long running poster campaigns proclaiming London’s proud boast as the world’s largest open prison and declaring Hackney and various other London parishes as The Sterile State.

The Sterile State Of Hackney

Last year’s Olympic games provided a focus for protest against suppression and exploitation within China and even its occupation of Tibet, dr.d pasted a blood slashed “Made In China” poster all city.

Brainwashed

An open and normally functioning launderette has been take over as the home base for a dr. d installation of anti propaganda propaganda, the attendant crowd being a mix of rough trendies and rough clothes washers.


Wash Thy Clothes, Wash Thy Mind

The walls of the launderette are pasted over with a montage of images of a 1950s stereotypical, almost mythological, homely goodness intertwined with the kind of proclamations a big brother society might make to anaesthetize a powerless population against the state’s power building activities.


dr. d - Is It Ok If We Watch

The government sanctioned erosion of the individual’s right to privacy and the conflict between freedom and total monitoring of private individual’s lives and movements is mocked through the strings of official platitudes.




London is touted as being the most CCTV rich city in the World and dr. d peppers the launderette with cameras which twist and crane to capture all our private moments, whilst providing us with official H.M.P (Her Majesty’s Prison) warnings whose subtext would read “you’ve been warned AND there is sod all you can do about it”. The kind of thing which implies a choice where none really exists, “eyeball scan Sir?”.

Biometric Scan In Progress

The presence of dark, shadowy spooks lampoons the invasion of our privacy by the state, though if dr. d was present at the opening he/she/they were notably camera shy.


Zero Spin

Even in a world where old municipal baths and school halls are being pressed into service as novelty galleries, the concept of staging an art protest show in a launderette is radical. Fears that the Brainwash edifice might amount to nothing more substantial than an insignificant subversion of a small corner of a laundromat are laid to rest by the comprehensive makeover given to the utilitarian urban space.

dr. d’s protest is that all your communications are monitored, all your movements observed and even the secrets of your DNA and the intimate patterns within your eyeball are now not only no longer private but they are actively used by the authorities to control your movements and your access to freedoms that previous generations fought to preserve. Brainwashing is a bit of a stretch, dr. d’s punk pro-individuality sentiment strikes a blow for an anti authoritarianism which is highly relevant in a world where fabricated excuses are used to justify excessive state control of the basic freedoms of London’s population.


More pictures of a launderette and other dr.d infrastructure here

More re-arranged billboards and commercial lies pricked on dr. d's website. Check the Billboards link, my kids laughed themselves sick at "I broke wind, will the poo fall out". I consider their education complete.