Sculpting the future of British Art
The current UK art scene is incredibly exciting and bursting with talent. The country is overflowing with galleries and museums, and support for modern art has never been stronger. Artists such as Tracey Emin and Grayson Perry have achieved a form of celebrity status. With some of the highest calibre art schools in the world and with patrons such as Saatchi, we are fostering the most promising artists of our generation. Emerging sculptors, Mark Davey and Candida Powell-Williams, are both bright young sparks and look set to have their names established in the contemporary art canon.
Davey and Powell-Williams are both recent graduates from the world famous and immensely respected Slade School of Fine Art. Powell-Williams has recently been granted a place at the notoriously competitive Royal College of Art to continue her artistic development. Davey was one of four winners of the prestigious ‘4 New Sensations’ award in 2008. ‘4 New Sensations’, a competition launched by the Saatchi Gallery and Channel 4 in 2007, finds and showcases the most imaginative and gifted art school graduates in the UK. Saatchi’s nod bodes well for Davey – for as history can attest, Saatchi rarely backs a losing horse.
The art of the twentieth-century broke all boundaries and transformed the art object into something unrecognisable by traditional standards. The formalistic, conceptual and material innovations that took place completely changed the nature of art. To be successful in today’s world, an artist must discover and develop original ideas. This is no mean feat. Twenty-first century creatives face the challenge of bringing something new to the already sated table.
I would have imagined that Davey and Powell-Williams would purposively seek to carve a unique niche in which to position their artistic practice. However, both artists refute this. Powell-Williams believes that “The idea of being novel is a futile argument. Novelty is more to do with the audience’s response. Contemporary audiences expect to be shocked and wowed and therefore it makes it difficult to achieve”. Davey agrees: “I am not intentionally trying to create something novel or original. If your goal is to do that, then you are shooting yourself in the foot as I feel that’s almost impossible today, just as it seems difficult to shock anymore.” Instead both artists claim that their work is inherently unique, favouring the status of the autonomous artist. Davey insists that he simply “creates what is important to me”. And Powell-Williams explains that her work is “all about me being the maker, my fingerprints and my choice of colour, that’s what makes it original.”
Powell-Williams states that the stimulus of her “work comes fundamentally from a desire to make but is led by our daily exchanges with the material world, the way we use objects and structures and our expectations of objects.” She finds the humour of Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton and the work of artists such as Franz West, Rebecca Horn, Paul McCarthy and Kippenberger influential. Conversely, Davey alleges that he takes less inspiration from other artists, although his work involving fluorescent strip lighting appears indebted to the minimalist sculptor Dan Flavin, and his use of text is akin to that of Bruce Nauman and Tracey Emin. However, like Powell-Williams, he too finds the “experiences in everyday life” most motivational, such as “certain types of chair in a restaurant, to a shop window display, to the way things or people accidently touch/interact in the ‘real’ world.”
Both Davey and Powell-Williams discuss their work, perhaps inadvertently, with a Minimalist rhetoric, echoing the concerns and interests of Judd, Morris – leading artists of that 1960s movement. Indeed Powell-Williams asserts that she is “more interested in an experience of objects in a phenomenological sense. I enjoy the power of the aesthetic in a sort of theatrical sense,” and in doing so brazens Minimalist buzzwords. Whilst Davey chastises the limitations of painting in a very Juddian language, believing that a “painting hides away on a wall, being restrained to its edges. By default, it is limited by the finite size of the stretcher. It’s limited in the things that it can do and in the dimensions it can inhabit.”
When the Minimalist movement first came into fruition in the 60s, charges of over-conceptualisation and a lack of aesthetic were levied it at by major critics of the time. Yet neither Davey nor Powell-Williams (despite using a Minimalist vocabulary) believe that they are concept-led, with Davey claiming that it is “very definitely secondary to its aesthetic. The spectacle of when the materials touch, the construction and how the piece actually functions and presents itself to the viewer are prime concerns of mine.”
Due to the fewer creative limitations involved in creating sculpture as opposed to painting, it is often bandied about that three-dimensional works have more relevance to contemporary practice than two-dimensional ones. Davey certainly sides with this line of argument deeming that “sculpture is not just more relevant to contemporary art, but to the world we live in and our society itself as well. It inhabits physical space; it puts itself on a level playing field with the viewer, and has the inherent power to challenge and to be noticed. It is everywhere and all around us. From the way a street lamp flickers to the way someone has decided to stack their deckchairs in their front garden.” Powell-Williams concurs, believing that “sculpture’s relationship to space and our bodies makes it impossible to ignore and will always remain relevant.”
Physical interaction, or its absence (“unfulfilled bodily interaction” in Powell-Williams’ case), is a principal concern for both artists. Davey explains that the object-subject relationship is so imperative to his work because “first and foremost, they are physical things in a room; they are sculptures. But also because of the language I use; that of flashing lights, moving parts and sound. These devices force themselves upon you. I hope they are what will draw you to the work and keep you engaged.” The phenomenological interaction between the viewer and a modern sculpture is intrinsic to the process of engaging with the work. And as this relationship with the object is instinctual or pre-lingual it could be argued that contemporary sculpture is the most accessible of the modern arts.
Movement in a sculpture has a significant impact on the spectators viewing experience and both artists are interested in kinetic sculpture – although Davey has explored it more to date. A moving work contradicts our assumptions of the static nature of sculpture, anthropomorphises it and can have a mesmerising and hypnotic effect on the viewer. Additionally the visual interest of the work is heighted and rendered somewhat instable and tense, as a different form is presented as the sculpture undergoes its flux. Powell-Williams is “interested in movement in relation to the functionality of objects and the potential for movement or function.” Whereas, Davey is “fascinated with the repetition that the movement provides; just as you think a light is going to smash or a piece of the work is going to topple, it stops just short of that crucial point.” He adds that movement “has very erotic connotations and undertones,” yet he refutes the fact that his “gender is particularly played out through the work I make. I suppose a lot of it is very phallic, but I can think of plenty of female artists who use similar themes in their practice.” Female artist, Powell-Williams, forcefully insists that she is “sick of hearing that, as a female sculptor who makes some larger scale works, my art is commenting on my gender. I refuse to consider it as a major role in my work. I’m not trying to say anything about my gender. I suspect that for men it’s less of an issue.”
Both Davey and Powell-Williams face many challenges ahead. Whilst we have a utopian idealisation that art is separate from our capitalist world it is in fact very much a commodity – indeed many artists, such as Warhol, have explored such issues. These young artists recognise the financial strains that lie ahead of them, as Davey points out “The cost of materials and studio space is crippling”. However, they both remain staunch in their artistic process, and refuse to demean their work by simply churning out commercial saleable art. Powell-Williams heroically states, “I’d rather work in a boring job during the week so I can make what I want than try to sell work that I don’t believe in.” Whilst Davey taunts, “if I wanted to make lots of money from my work, then I would have been a painter!”
Aside from financial instability, essential questions about the nature of contemporoary are currently being posed – and it is Davey and Powell-Williams who must formulate a retort. In particular, Powell-Williams feels that the role of the gallery in exhibiting artwork will be reconsidered, and she considers how art will evolve. She ponders “what to do with the surplus of images and objects, and if artists should be more concerned about being green.” She also frets, “That what I am told is the future of contemporary art (I’m thinking of the Altermodern exhibition at the Tate) cannot possibly include me, and more to the point, that I won’t want to be part of it.” Being a contemporary artist is fraught with difficulties and dilemmas, and indeed being an artist can be perceived as a ‘calling’. As Davey neatly put it, “I think being an artist is one of the hardest jobs you can do. But I wouldn’t swap it for anything.”
More of Davey’s and Powell-William’s work can be viewed at: www.mark-davey.com and www.candidapowell-williams.com. You can also see video footage of their moving sculptures. Both will be collaborating on a sculpture to be exhibited opposite The Courtyard from 16th June – 3rd July
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