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K8 Hardy - Position Series

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Position Series #20, 2009

K8 Hardy (USA, b. 1977) is a New York based artist represented by Reena Spaulings Fine Art in New York, and Balice Hertling in Paris.

Hardy is a founding member of the queer feminist journal and artist collective LTTR, and has directed music videos for groups including Le Tigre, Lesbians on Ecstasy, and Men. Her work is included in the permanent collection of the Whitney Museum of American Art, and has been exhibited and performed internationally at venues including, MoMA PS1 (New York NY), Artists Space (New York, NY), The Tate Modern (London, UK) and Galerie Sonja Junkers (Munich, Germany) among many others.

Hardy works through performance art without allegiance to any particular medium. She mines pop culture for material and eschews craft based virtuosity in photography, sculpture, and video. Hardy believes in the power of flamboyant and bold gestures, and in conversations of play, which constitute her endeavors toward total expression.

Position Series is a group of photographs which employ the tropes of self-portraiture and abstract photography.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K8_Hardy






















 Position Series #30, 2009

At Galerie Sonja Junkers, K8 Hardy showed work from her ‘Position Series’ (2010), photographs resembling fashion snapshots in which the artist (or occasionally her sister) performs various social and cultural archetypes. We see her, for instance, holding a yoga pose; kneeling on a stool in garter belts, mimicking a cat; or swinging from a lamp post in bright red tights and a neon orange wig. From the stuff of other people’s closets, multiple personas are conjured, and all of them – or none of them – are K8 Hardy. Because the artist manipulates the images in the developing process, some photographs feature cuts or splits, and/or negative shadows of the artist’s body in different postures blocking the light during exposure. It appears as if the female form were haunting this masquerade of identities, reminding us that, while there is no innocent viewer, Hardy’s looks aren’t innocent either.
Manuela Ammer
http://www.frieze.com/issue/review/k8-hardy-ulrike-mueller/






















 Position Series #28, 2009


Ariana Reines This strange combination of intimacy and extroversion is your work’s power. In contrast with the Internet’s extreme openness, there’s a self-selecting privacy to making a zine on paper. I’m thinking of the limited circulation of your classic Fashionfashion zine from the ’90s, for example, or Frank Peter John Dick, your gorgeous new book of collages—if I had my way it’d be distributed to every teenager in existence as suicide prevention propaganda.

K8 Hardy Thank you. When I made my first zine, LTTR, there weren’t blogs everywhere, so it didn’t seem like its production was about privacy at all. I haven’t made a zine in years. I do currently feel inhibited on social media. I could tell you why I want to protect myself, but I don’t want it in print. That sounds a little bit paranoid, but—

AR I have a similar feeling. Wait, I just interrupted you. We’re both scorpios, which means we are both private to the point of paranoia and extremely extroverted. A huge part of your photographs’ power comes from the polarity between a performative intensity and something mysterious and secret that seems to be the origin of it all.

KH Yeah, maybe so. Part of the power of the photographs is about control, about deciding exactly when to reveal something. I have a tendency to open myself up and reveal myself in my work. You know, you’re a writer, so you’re sharing yourself with people in your writing. It’s a generous act and sometimes you have to protect yourself.

AR Technologically there are multiple ways to exteriorize what you’ve made. But then, according to Paul Virilio, the more devices we have, the more prostheses, the more our bodies become immobilized. I go through phases of feeling utterly paralyzed by all of the ways that I could turn whatever’s passing through me into a transmittable—if immaterial—thing.

KH Hmm, yes. Prostheses and defecation.
http://bombsite.com/issues/119/articles/6429

K8 Hardy, May 20th 2012 Whitney Biennial

With her earlier efforts, like the self-published ‘zine fashionfashion, or a Lady Gaga performance-parody as the character Lazy BlahBlah, K8 Hardy demonstrates how conspicuous consumption wears thin when compared against personal, inventive and individual refinement. Fashion can be bought, as they say, but style one must possess; toppling established cultural hierarchies, Hardy creates inclusive spaces for individual expression.

Position Series blends aspects of photography and performance in ways that loosen the constraints on both genres. Hardy’s project isn’t about perfect photographs; a camera flash reflects in a piece of Plexiglass one figure holds up, occasional images are grainy or blurry, and torn prints collaged together appear punky and experimental. Hardy’s action extends into the darkroom, where she made photograms by throwing a lace bra onto paper to be exposed. She’s also laid under the photographic enlarger while flipping the bird, burning an evocative silhouette on top of other printed imagery. Messing with the master narrative of photography as a skill-based practice, Hardy injects the field with performative energy. She provides evidence of how still images signal action, showing us what performance looks like when it’s taken to the street.

When Hardy toys with static notions of authenticity by single-handedly becoming a myriad of individuals, she shows us how accustomed we are to judging experiences based on common patterns; of dropping things into pigeonholes. With Position Series, the proliferation of characterizations that Hardy enacts—coupled with the fluid way these individuals butt up against and slide around one another—shows us just how much fun it can be to resist singular and static identities. The broader implications of this strategy offer a primer on resistance tactics, making either/or paradigms obsolete. Be any of them. Be all of them.
Dean Daderko
http://pastelegram.org/reviews/54



Yuck 'n Yum winter 2013 launch

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On Saturday December 14th be sure you’re at the Hannah Maclure Centre from 7pm. Because that’s when Yuck ‘n Yum will launch its LAST EVER issue, and you really don’t want to miss it! There’ll be all the usual goodness you’ve come to expect from our launches: food, drink, music and zines of course come as standard. But as this time is extra special, we’re inviting back some of our illustrious guests who’ve thrilled the zinester crowds through the ages. You can relive those special moments with Yuck ‘n Yum and as always, the final issue will be available to take home for free! We can also promise a few super special Christmassy surprises to say thank you for being such a lovely audience over the years. Yuck 'n Yum looks forward to seeing you there at the LAST EVER zine launch...

http://www.yucknyum.com/2013/11/29/winter-issue-launch/

Renée Jeanne Falconetti

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Renée Jeanne Falconetti (July 21, 1892 – December 12, 1946), sometimes credited as Maria Falconetti, Marie Falconetti, Renée Maria Falconetti, or, simply, Falconetti, was a French stage and film actress, notable for her role as Joan of Arc in Carl Theodor Dreyer's 1928 silent film, La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc. 

Born in Pantin, Seine-Saint-Denis, Falconetti became a stage actress in Paris in 1918. By the time Dreyer watched her act in an amateur theater and selected her as his leading lady in his upcoming production La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc, she was already a celebrated stage artiste, and had appeared in one film, La Comtesse de Somerive (1917), directed by Georges Denola and Jean Kemm. Falconetti was 35 years old when she played the role of 19-year-old Joan of Arc in La Passion. Her portrayal is widely considered one of the most astonishing performances ever committed to film, and it would remain her final cinematic role.

Many writers have claimed that Falconetti's performance was the result of extreme cruelty at the hands of Dreyer, a notoriously demanding director who pushed her to the brink of emotional collapse. For example, film critic Roger Ebert writes,
For Falconetti, the performance was an ordeal. Legends from the set tell of Dreyer forcing her to kneel painfully on stone and then wipe all expression from her face – so that the viewer would read suppressed or inner pain. He filmed the same shots again and again, hoping that in the editing room he could find exactly the right nuance in her facial expression.
However, in their biography of Dreyer, Jean and Dale Drum say that these stories are based only on rumour and that "there is no evidence that Dreyer could be called a sadist". They quote onlookers who described Dreyer's working relationship with Falconetti: initially in the production process, "Dreyer and Falconetti would watch the rushes of a single scene together, seven or eight times, until Dreyer could pick out a little bit, maybe a few feet, where the effect was what they wanted, and when they reshot the scene, she could play it without the least inhibition. Just those few feet of film had inspired her." Later, Falconetti became able to play scenes only from Dreyer's explanations, without the need even for rehearsal.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ren%C3%A9e_Jeanne_Falconetti


'Jesus!' The last word we hear from her or read from her in The Passion of Joan of Arc, her last word to the world of today as she leaves the big screen and re-enters the nocturnal shadows of the past. Stepping from a dreamhouse in flames down into mortality; stepping from the present into the past. An unforgettable sight. An unforgettable scene.

Before and after Dreyer she was a stage comedienne. As far away from what we remember her for as night is from day. But from her mid-20s she could be found on the stage in Paris. By the time Dreyer witnessed her on stage she had a kind of fame - the kind I mean is the one found from word of mouth, from the printed word, the types of communiction that existed before mass media and the TV camera shrunk our world. Thus some would know her from an article and/or picture in a newspaper, from voices in the corner coming from that magical box of tricks called the radio, from a friend telling you about seeing her last night in a play and raving about her. A figure with a natural distance from her admirers. In other words she still retained a level of mystery, an impenetrability that has served her icon well.

She was 35 when she made the film; Joan of Arc was 19. Yet this was a masterstroke. Her face is young enough to convey the innocence of Joan but old enough to depict Death lurking in every shadow, in every word her inquisitors torment her with. Her eyes know it is there; that soon it will have her but it is her innocence that makes her stronger than the strongest of her tormentors. For she believes in her beliefs and there is no-one among her who conveys that strength.

Every emotion, every thought, is etched in her face and amplified by the camera. I haven't seen one performance on screen that is half as strong, half as moving or half as beautiful. The terrors of Joan of Arc, the terrors of a Saint, are captured forever on film. Who can not be moved by what she went through? Those with hearts of stone, I guess.
Paul Page
http://www.leninimports.com/renee_maria_falconetti_11a.html#jcmore

You cannot know the history of silent film unless you know the face of Renee Maria Falconetti. In a medium without words, where the filmmakers believed that the camera captured the essence of characters through their faces, to see Falconetti in Dreyer's "The Passion of Joan of Arc” (1928) is to look into eyes that will never leave you.

Falconetti (as she is always called) made only this single movie. "It may be the finest performance ever recorded on film,” wrote Pauline Kael. She was an actress in Paris when she was seen on the stage of a little boulevard theater by Carl Theodor Dreyer (1889-1968), the Dane who was one of the greatest early directors. It was a light comedy, he recalled, but there was something in her face that struck him: "There was a soul behind that facade.” He did screen tests without makeup, and found what he sought, a woman who embodied simplicity, character and suffering.

Perhaps it helps that Falconetti never made another movie (she died in Buenos Aires, Argentina, in 1946). We do not have her face in other roles to compare with her face here, and the movie seems to exist outside time (the French director Jean Cocteau famously said it played like "an historical document from an era in which the cinema didn't exist”).
Roger Ebert
http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-the-passion-of-joan-of-arc-1928

One article I’m especially proud of appeared a little over 50 years ago -  in December of 1962. It was published in Pageant magazine (long since gone), and was about an obscure actress named Falconetti, who had played in a 1927 silent film, “The Passion of Joan of Arc,” directed by the Danish master Carl Dreyer.

My article began: “This is the story of an actress you probably never heard of, probably never saw, and probably will never get to see.”  Yet she is worth remembering “because she gave one of the greatest performances in the history of motion pictures - perhaps the very greatest.”

When I asked the New School instructor about her, he said: She was a mystery. No one knows anything about her.

At the time I was working for Pageant magazine, a small, low-circulation magazine, and I asked the editor, Howard Cohn, if I could write an article about this magnificent but mysterious actress, Maria Falconetti. He said yes - if I could find out where she came from and what happened to her.

I did library research. I corresponded with movie critics. I exchanged letters with Carl Dreyer, the director, in Denmark. Dreyer wrote that he had seen her in Paris, on the stage, and knew she would be right for the part. But, along with everyone else, he knew almost nothing about her.

What made my research frustrating was that there was plenty of information about another actress, Renée Falconetti, a good-looking young woman, the youngest actress ever to have joined the Comedie francaise. She had died some years ago, in South America. The theater division of the New York Public Library had a thick folder of material on Renée, but almost nothing on Maria.

I was ready to give up.

In desperation, I consulted a Paris phone book and wrote to all the Falconettis in Paris…. Did they know anything about the actress Maria Falconetti?

Months went by. And a letter from Paris finally arrived. From Helene Falconetti, a lawyer who said she was the daughter of the Falconetti who had starred in “The Passion of Joan of Arc.”

She began her letter by asking, why did I refer to her mother as Maria? When her name was Renée?

I stared at the letter. It took a while for me to comprehend. There was no Maria Falconetti. There was only Renée Falconetti….

I wrote and published my article…. And the New York Public Library theater division (after giving me a little trouble) finally combined its folders on Renée and Maria Falconetti.

Today, if you look up “Falconetti” in Wikipedia, you will see that the first footnote credits me as the source that Falconetti’s true name was not Maria Falconetti, but Renée Jeanne Falconetti.

And if you want to see an astonishing performance by an actress in an utterly amazing film, see “The Passion of Joan of Arc” as soon as you can.
Warren Boroson
http://www.newjerseynewsroom.com/movies/a-great-hollywood-story-the-mesmerizing-a-mysterious-falconetti-who-dazzled-in-the-passion-of-joan-of-arc 

Francis Bacon - 7 Reece Mews

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Francis Bacon (28 October 1909 – 28 April 1992) was an Irish-born British figurative painter known for his bold, graphic and emotionally raw imagery.

He bequeathed his entire estate (then valued at £11 million) to John Edwards and Brian Clark executor of the Estate. In 1998 the director of the Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin secured the donation of the contents of Bacon's chaotic studio at 7 Reece Mews, South Kensington. Bacon's studio contents were moved and the studio reconstructed in the gallery. The relocated studio opened to the public in 2001. The entire contents of the studio have been catalogued: approximately 570 books, 1500 photographs, 100 slashed canvases, 1300 leaves from torn books, 2000 artist materials, and 70 drawings. Other categories include artists correspondence magazines, newspapers and vinyl records.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_Bacon_%28artist%29






















7 Reece Mews was tiny, and apart from the studio consisted of two rooms - a kitchen that contained a bath, and a living room that doubled as a bedroom. The studio had one skylight, and he usually worked there in the mornings.

Unlike the rest of his flat, the studio was a private place. Entry was by invitation only, though, as Dawson points out, he did like having people back there late at night, drinking champagne and discussing his latest work. Looking at the mess, it can be hard to imagine that this was anything less that a transparent vision of the way he worked - but that was not entirely the case. Trace back the ways in which Bacon, and particularly Bacon's sources, are generally described, and it is striking how many of them originated with him. He used transparency as a foil: his articulacy about his own work, in interview after interview, set the terms of reference, and thus obscured the things he chose not to say.

We can see all the peripheral stimuli, the basis for the work, but with him died the unifying mind, the place where everything came together, into what he himself called, in a 1985 interview with Melvyn Bragg, "images which are a concentration of reality, and a shorthand of sensation."

http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2008/sep/05/francis.bacon

Perry Ogden - The kitchen in Francis Bacon's last studio and home at Reece Mews 7 in South Kensington, London, 1998.

“I live in squalor,” Bacon once boasted of his own practice, “the woman who cleans is not allowed to touch the studio. Besides, I like the dust—I set it like pastel.” Bacon’s biographer Daniel Farson reported that the artist “never had the studio in the Mews cottage cleaned because it helped him to lift up dust from the floor and apply it to the canvas when painting his sand dunes; he also rubbed his fingers along the dust and then on to the wet paint.” Bacon did this in his portrait of his patron and lover, Eric Hall: “Actually there is no paint at all on the suit apart from a very thin grey wash on which I put dust from the floor,” Bacon said of Figure in a Landscape (1945). “I thought: well, how can I make that slightly furry quality of a flannel suit? And then I suddenly thought: well, I’ll get some dust. And you can see how near it is to a decent flannel suit.”

“He definitely didn’t like anyone going into his studio, that was his domain,” Ward confirmed. “I was never allowed to clean it. Occasionally, he and John [Edwards, Bacon’s companion for the last sixteen years of his life] would get together and clean out some of the clutter; otherwise it would get so high that you’d have to clamber over, and he did like to stand back and look at his paintings. … All that clutter, sometimes I would expect it to start moving with cockroaches!” Bacon was proud of his disorderly studio, which was a kind of metaphor for the creative act: “I feel at home in this chaos,” he said of his workspace, “because chaos suggests images to me. … I think it may be a spur to create order.” On another occasion he explained, “I like to live among the memories and the damage.”
Christopher Turner
http://cabinetmagazine.org/issues/35/turner.php






















 Jorge Lewinski - Francis Bacon, 1970

In the summer of 1963, a young photographer called Jorge Lewinski knocked nervously on the door of Francis Bacon's studio in South Kensington in London and asked whether he could take the artist's portrait.

After flicking through a portfolio of his work, Bacon invited Lewinski in and allowed himself to be photographed sitting amid the chaos, with a damaged circular mirror and numerous tins of paint brushes and pots of pigment behind him.

Bacon's art permeated his studio. He used the walls and doors as a palette. Newspaper articles and images ripped from books and Sunday magazines that had inspired him were scattered across the floor.

(Bacon boasted that he knew where everything was: at one photography session, the artist asked Lewinksi if he had seen a recent magazine article, before pulling a copy from the detritus.)

The point of his photo sessions with Lewinski was clear: Bacon wanted the public to see the sources of his creativity.
Rebecca Daniels
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/art/3558531/Francis-Bacon-behind-the-myth.html

Perry Ogden - 7 Reece Mews/ Francis Bacon's Studio3, 2001 

7 Reece Mews, as accommodation, was penurious. The floorboards and lightbulbs were bare, and the walls whitewashed – at least until they became smeared with an Impressionist poppy field of pigments. The bombsite studio was only large enough for Bacon to execute one painting at a time, and was dominated by a huge circular mirror, speckled black with age, which dated from his time as a Modernist interior designer. Bright Young Things who were wondering about “The 1930 Look in British Decoration” could have seen it alongside his steel-tube furniture in a feature in The Studio magazine of the same year. There were only two other rooms in the place: a poky living room/bedsit affair, and a rather unsavoury room which combined the functions of bathroom and kitchen, in which the moon-faced painter could do the washing-up while gazing at faded reproductions of his triptychs.

That an artist at the peak of his fame, capable of selling paintings for six-figure sums, should continue to live in rented squalor for three decades seems incongruous. Bacon was far from tight-fisted – he led an extravagantly bon vivant life in the boozers and restaurants of Soho, running up thousand-pound weekly bills on champagne alone – so this was not the reason for his humble surroundings. He tried to move out on a number of occasions, but always found the South Ken pad to be the most conducive to creativity. Bacon was an admirer of Giacometti’s notoriously run-down studio in the Rue Hippolyte-Maindron in Paris, and clearly considered that his own shambolic studio lent him a similarly bohemian mystique. The pair had become friendly when the creator of bronze twig-men visited London in 1965; a photo of Giacometti lies among the many hundreds in the studio.

When Francis Bacon died, in 1992, the dust of raw pigment that had played havoc with his asthma was allowed to settle. It soon became apparent to the artist’s estate that the Augean studio was something of a self-mythologising work of art in itself. The accumulation of 30 years of brushes, corduroy trousers and, most importantly, reams of creased inspirational material were a carefully considered extension of the artist’s romantic self-image, and could make a significant contribution to the advancement of learning about Francis Bacon’s work.
Stephen Patience
http://www.stephenpatience.co.uk/Essays/A_Slice_of_Bacon.html 

Yuck 'n Yum - ZINE IDOL!

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Yuck ’n Yum are excited to announce a fantastic opportunity for all you budding zinesters out there. You may have heard that our own zine will say farewell at the end of 2013 – however, to celebrate new beginnings we are offering the support, guidance, and £500 of seed money to bring your own self-published zine venture to fruition. We’re assembling a panel of judges who will pick through your proposals and sound out your pitches, awarding one lucky team the funding and support to release their zine to the world. This is a contest to find the most promising ideas out there. This is ZINE IDOL!


http://zineidol.yucknyum.com/

Yuck 'n Yum - Please join us for our last quarterly zine launch‏

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Dear Yuck 'n Yummers,
On Saturday December 14th be sure you’re at the Hannah Maclure Centre from 7pm.
Because that’s when Yuck ‘n Yum will launch its LAST EVER issue, and you really don’t want to miss it!























There’ll be all the usual goodness you’ve come to expect from our launches: food, drink, music and zines of course come as standard. But as this time is extra special, we’re inviting back some of our illustrious guests who’ve thrilled the zinester crowds through the ages including our current (and last) cover artist Cos Ahmet! You can relive those special moments with Yuck ‘n Yum and as always, the final issue will be available to take home for free! We can also promise a few super special Christmassy surprises to say thank you for being such a lovely audience over the years. Yuck ‘n Yum looks forward to seeing you there at the LAST EVER zine launch…

ALSO

Yuck ’n Yum are excited to announce a fantastic opportunity for all you budding zinesters out there.  To celebrate new beginnings we are offering the support, guidance, and £500 of seed money to bring your own self-published zine venture to fruition. We’re assembling a panel of judges who will pick through your proposals and sound out your pitches, awarding one lucky team the funding and support to release their zine to the world. This is a contest to find the most promising ideas out there. This is ZINE IDOL!

For details on how to apply please click here.

Love from the Yuck 'n Yum team

BOY London

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Created in 1976 by Stephane Raynor, Boy London is an iconic British institution. Internationally recognised and often imitated, it remains the leader of the most influential style trends.

From Punks and New Romantics, to club kids and fashionistas, Andy Warhol to Boy George, The Pet Shop Boys to Madonna, everybody has worn Boy.
https://www.facebook.com/pages/BOY-London/244136575643647

Boy London was set up by Stephane Raynor, a man with quite a London history. In the 1970s, at the same time that Malcolm Maclaren and Vivienne Westwood were causing a stir with their Chelsea store SEX, Raynor set up a stall also on the Kings Road called Acme Attractions with John Krevine. At the heart of London’s Punk scene, it was run by now legendary DJ Don Letts and attracted everyone from Boy George and Chrissie Hynde to Patti Smith and Bob Marley. It even spawned one of the capital’s greatest clubs – The Roxy was opened by its accountant, Andy Czezowski to cater for its cool clientele.

Come 1976 Raynor and Krevine had shut up shop and turned their attention to Boy London. The clothing line had its first store on the Kings Road and started off as a punk staple, decking out the likes of the Sex Pistols. But it was in the 1980s that the brand really came into its own. By this time punk was dead and the coolest kids in town were kick-starting the New Romantic scene – Raynor was right there with them. He and his friends, now 1980s icons (Boy George, Steve Strange, Rusty Egan and Princess Julia) spent their time hanging out at the Blitz club and teaming their Boy looks with outrageous makeup and homemade accessories.

Raynor showed off his new offerings with shows more akin to parties in the London’s hippest night spots and before long the brand had an international following. By the end of the decade no fashion fan’s wardrobe was complete without a T-shirt emblazoned with its winged logo, and, with his finger firmly on the pulse of the next big thing, Raynor channelled the emerging Ibiza club scene into his collection, complete with eye-popping shades and smiley faces. It became one of the most copied labels around, to such an extent that Raynor effectively lost control of the brand and it fizzled out.



I'd found it! Staring right at me from across the cobbled street, a tiny shop off of Shoreditch High Street with spray-painted green writing spelling out the word Sick.  Walking up closer to the shop window I could see from the outside the infamous BOY London design. I had wanted my own piece of cult label, BOY London clothing for so long. Having grown up in the 80’s and seeing everyone I respected and loved from the likes of Madonna, Andy Warhol, Pet Shop Boys to Boy George wearing the clothes I felt a real connection with the label.

Now I’ve never really been what you would class as street or urban, more smart and popping into the store on my lunch break dressed in my corporate style clothing, I may as well have had a sign on me that said kick me.

As I squeezed past a young peroxide blonde haired assistant standing by the doorway rearranging some clothing on one of the racks, he turned around to me and smirked ‘This will suit ya’ handing me a pair of baby pink hot pants peppered with the BOY logo. I politely declined and made my way over to a rail of their popular black and white branded items. Sitting right at the back of the shop was an older man who never spoke or smiled other than every now and then calling out directions to his assistant.

After searching for a few minutes and finding nothing for my petite frame I asked the young guy for some help. ‘I’ll see if I can find anything in a small at the back’ came his friendly response.

So there I am left in the pokey shop, where I tried to make small talk by attempting to speak to the older guy sitting with his MacBook looking slightly intimidating.

‘I have been looking for this shop for ages’ me to the guy.

‘Well you found it, how did you find it?’

‘I follow you on twitter I saw the address mentioned there’

‘We’re NOT on twitter’
publicdescription






















When I was 18 years old I can vividly recall the day my little sister Jennifer came home with a white leatherette BOY London baseball cap. I was so frickin annoyed because I wanted one, and now she had one I couldn't etc etc. Ah, the things we used to get upset about.

We didn't look at elitist, out-of-touch catwalk fashion in the early 1990s; our bible was The Face, our icons were other young people and the brands we connected with were ones we could relate to and afford with our pathetic recession-hit bank balance. Fast forward to today and I am an adult woman witnessing a fashion groundhog day, as BOY London is in the midst of a revival and club kids dress, look and act pretty much exactly how we used to, the only difference being the addition of Mac tech about their person.

BOY London was founded in the late 1970s by a fashion-obsessed lad about town called Stephane Raynor who was part of the Blitz Kid and New Romantic clubbing movements. By the time we found it, it had been worn by Andy Warhol, Madonna, The Pet Shop Boys, Boy George, and its shop on Old Compton Street in London's Soho always had queues outside. In the mid-late 1990s its popularity and its distinctive eagle and BOY logo had had its day.  
Melanie Rickey
BOY started life as Acme Attractions, a small market-stall in Chelsea that sold pin-ball machines and mid century antiques. The owner was John Kirvine, who one day bumped into Stephane Raynor, who was wearing a beautiful vintage double-breated suit. Together they set up a shop selling vintage clothes, peg trousers and creepers. They hired Don Letts to run the shop (I’m guessing because he was cool and black and was also dealing weed). And they started making their own clothing, which was in direct competition with Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren’s Seditionaries shop, which was just down the road.

They eventually got shut down (probably because of all the weed and stuff), so they had to come up with a new shop. The name BOY was thought of by two self-harming gays, one of which was a Bajan orphan and the other a genius/pederast. The latter collected piles of Evening Standards with ‘Boy’ in the headline eg. ‘Boy stabs PC’ or ‘Boy Electrocuted at 30,000 Volts’.

Steph Raynor explains it thus: “We entered the world of self-harming gays before it existed. The idea was to open it outside Chelsea football grounds, so the window would get smashed in everyday and we’d get beaten up and have sex with all these amazing football hooligans. Punks came to the store, but they would never get the art context underneath, which was all about gay skinheads.”

The opening window display was similarly poetic. The idea was that a boy had perished in his own arson attack, so the shop was all burnt timbers nailed to the roof, and in the window was the remains of the boy: Doc Martins with a stump of a foot in it, a finger with a ring and some trousers with a bit of stomach attached. Crowds gathered, it made the newspapers, and the police confiscated the display and arrested Don Letts, straightaway. This was 1977, after all.

The clothes themselves were a little thin, aesthetically speaking. Printed T-shirts, trousers with zips, caps, leggings: all a bit embarrassing for the true Punks, according to Don Letts: “It played into the hands of what people thought Punk was about: negativity and nihilism.” So Don Letts left BOY to manage The Slits.

“Everyone knew BOY was a joke,” says John Krivine. “But the kids from the suburbs were buying like mad.” The popstars started wearing it and the masses followed. By 1983 they had branches in Carnaby Street, Tokyo, and Paris. Everyone from Boy George to the Pet Shop Boys were wearing BOY in their music videos.

In 1985, John Krivine left Steph to run the business alone. Sabrina, the Italian popstar, had a hit called Boys, Boys, Boys, where she wore BOY with her tits out. “That was end of story for the Italians,” says Steph. “50,000 people turned up at a Milan football match wearing BOY. You could buy it with your pastrami sandwich. You could buy it at gas stations to fill your car with. But, they were copies coming out of Napoli at an uncontrollable speed, so we had to leave Italy. The international buyers list spiralled out of control. Finally, the label got fucked up and we went down for about £5 million.”

When Steph opened up SICK on Redchurch Street in 2007, he put all the BOY stock in, along with some vintage stuff and overpriced bikes. BOY had a re-launch of sorts, collaborating with new designers, and attracting a new generation of fans, which mostly consisted of teenagers and Swedish tourists.
When Steph opened up SICK on Redchurch Street in 2007, he put all the BOY stock in, along with some vintage stuff and overpriced bikes. BOY had a re-launch of sorts, collaborating with new designers, and attracting a new generation of fans, which mostly consisted of teenagers and Swedish tourists. - See more at: http://thisisprettyreal.com/2012/featured/then-and-now-boy-london/#sthash.U7G4gsZ0.dpuf
Clara Tait
Clara Tait
http://thisisprettyreal.com/2012/featured/then-and-now-boy-london/


Possession - subway scene

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Possession is a 1981 French cult horror film directed by Andrzej Żuławski and starring Isabelle Adjani and Sam Neill.

Anna tells Mark about her miscarriage, which she credits for causing her nervous breakdown. In a flashback, Anna, on her way home from market, has what appears to be a seizure of epic violence as she walks through the subway, which ends with her on the floor of the passageway, oozing blood and fluids from every orifice. She tells Mark, “What I miscarried there was sister faith and what was left was sister chance.”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Possession_%281981_film%29

This one has to be seen twice. Once on a visceral - I can't believe what I'm seeing sitting on the edge of your seat with your mouth open -level. The second time on an intellectual - aha I think get some of the allegory but it still kinda doesn't add up - level. All in all, you haven't quite seen acting until you've seen Isabelle Adjani breaking apart, or rather, literally, oozing apart, in a subway tunnel. Linda Blair's got nothing on her. Speaking of oozing, the camera-work is simply unbelievable. The uninterrupted shot of the drunken Heinrich spinning around in the stairway is choreographed in a way that makes the camera seem immaterial.
ampus75
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0082933/reviews?start=50

In one of the setpieces of the film, Anna goes completely berserk in an abandoned subway, screaming, gyrating, smashing her groceries, howling, crying, rolling around on the food-strewn ground for what seems like ages. To cap it all off, she seems to suffer some sort of horrendous miscarriage, red and white fluids oozing out of every orifice, especially the obvious one. I can't begin to impart the intensity of this scene, but Adjani's acting prowess carries the sheer horror of what Anna's experiencing far more than any special effects, which are totally convincing anyway. We return to Anna talking to Mark, so this event could have happened in the past, and could, in fact, have been the birth of the creature, I'm not sure. We're never told explicitly where this creature has come from, but we can assume Anna's bitterness, misery, lust and madness has become a tumour-like physical form, managing to somehow be born into the physical world.
Boris Lugosi
http://www.girlsgunsandghouls.com/possession.html

The disturbingly fierce staging and performance of the subway miscarriage lends to an interpretation of this scene as the manifestation of Anna’s one and only true possession. Not only does the subway perfectly embody the mental atmosphere under which Anna might have experienced a piercing violation of her reality by a higher power, but it also captures the physical anguish which might accompany such an ordeal. This demonstrates physical as well as metaphysical control over her ‘soul,’ as Heinrich’s mother might put it. Anna describes this moment to Mark near the end of the film:

‘What I miscarried there was sister faith and what was left is sister chance. So I had to take care of my faith to protect it.’ (Anna)
‘And that’s what you’re doing there?’ (Mark)
‘Yes.’ (Anna)
‘For the first time, you look vulgar to me.’ (Mark)

This dialogue reveals that Anna’s miscarriage had multiple consequences. Not only does it date the creature’s birth, it also symbolizes the fissure of Anna’s being into two separate parts. With no other explanations provided, we are left to conclude that Anna had a deus-ex-machina. Out of no other solution to her internal conflict, a divine possession of her united being pierced through her and made the intersection of order and chaos inside Anna impossible. The literal consequence of such an event would be a bipolarity, the impossibility of Anna to be both stable and unstable, and an incompatibility with existence let alone the strifes of marriage and society. (Quick return to semantics: ‘divine’ here connotes something unknowable and vast in its power, and like the intersection of many opposites in this film–pleasure and pain, freedom and imprisonment, etc–we could easily use the word ‘infernal’ here. The nature of the unknowable cannot exactly be known besides through its profound, obfuscated effect on Anna.)
GDL
http://fearcentral.wordpress.com/2012/06/28/possession-1981/ 


Yuck 'n Yum - STV article

DC's - Didn't Read Day

Mappa Dundee @ Generator Projects 13.12.13 - pictures

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To the Generator last night for Mappa Dundee, an event "exploring the social, environmental and economic systems that support individual and collective art practices in the city." I took a few photos and here they are:

The name of the event is Mappa Dundee

The Dundee art massive






















Fraser MacDonald carves a monument to all the people and places he has worked with






















 Catrin Jeans reads tarot cards






















 Kirsty McKeown






















Tin Roof

http://generatorprojects.co.uk/take-over-mappa-dundee-what-sustains/

Yuck 'n Yum winter 2013 launch 14.12.13 - pictures

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To the Hannah Maclure Centre this evening for the last ever Yuck 'n Yum zine launch. The final issue will be online very soon, but for now I took a few photos and here they are:

The name of the zine is Yuck 'n Yum

Derek Lodge and Michael Mallett perform a selection of Christmas hits


Guests were invited to colour in a selection of back issues

Amelie colours in

Assorted punters

The Hugs tear it up

http://www.yucknyum.com/

Marcel Broodthaers - Musée d'Art Moderne, Départment des Aigles

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La Pense-Bete, 1964

Marcel Broodthaers (28 January 1924 – 28 January 1976) was a Belgian poet, filmmaker and artist with a highly literate and often witty approach to creating art works.

From 1968 to 1975 Broodthaers produced large-scale environmental pieces that reworked the very notion of the museum. His most noted work was an installation which began in his Brussels house which he called Musée d'Art Moderne, Départment des Aigles (1968). This installation was followed by a further eleven manifestations of the 'museum', including at the Kunsthalle Düsseldorf for an exhibition in 1970 and at documenta 5 in Kassel in 1972. In 1970 Broodthaers conceived of the Financial Section, which encompassed an attempt to sell the museum "on account of bankruptcy." The sale was announced on the cover of the Art Cologne fair catalogue in 1971, but no buyers were found.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marcel_Broodthaers

Musée d'Art Moderne, Départment des Aigles, Section XIXe siègle, 30 rue de la Pèpinière, Brussels, September 27, 1968

In 1968, the Belgian artist Marcel Broodthaers created an installation in his house that he entitled the Musée de l'Art Moderne, Départment des Aigles, or Museum of Modern Art, Department of Eagles. This was a fictive entity in that the museum had neither a permanent building nor a collection; nonetheless, it was elaborated by Broodthaers in about a dozen further installations. Evidence of the museum's existence (apart from its title) ultimately encompassed specially created objects, films, and art reproductions as well as ephemera such as wall labels and signage.

Subsequently, Broodthaers added other 'wings' to his museum department, including a Financial Section (through which he attempted to sell the museum itself, stating that this was necessary "on account of bankruptcy"). The Financial Section was also the sponsor of a series of gold ingots stamped with the museum's symbol, an eagle; these ingots were sold at twice the market price of the gold they contained.

Broodthaers's museum belongs in a lineage of institutional critiques that are deeply inspired by the work of Marcel Duchamp (especially his Readymades) and that proceed by assuming the general form and authority of key art world institutions such as the museum, the gallery, and the nonprofit organization. More recent entities of this kind include the Museum of Jurassic Technology, the Museum of Forgery, the Museum of the Double, and many others. With the advent of the web, which interposes a compelling facade between the visitor and any actual building or place, such fictive entities have exploded in number and kind, with quasi-scientific institutions (the Institute for the Study of Perpetual E.motion, the Institute of Militronics and Advanced Time Interventionality) and corporations (the International Coropration of Lost Structures, RTMark) entering the mix. At times, it can be difficult to discern the difference between what is merely an elaborate project title, and a genuine effort to exploit the structural affordances of contemporary institutional forms.
http://fictive.arts.uci.edu/museum_of_modern_art_department_of_eagles


Section Publicité du Musée d'Art Moderne Département des Aigles, 1972

In September 1968 he invented the Musée d’Art Moderne, Département des Aigles, which comprised an installation of crates, postcards and inscriptions situated in his Brussels apartment. The Museum was opened with an inaugural speech given by Johannes Cladders, then the director of the Museum in Monchengladbach, Germany, which was followed by a discussion on the role of art within society. In present-day terms this work has acted like a “message in a bottle” washed up on the shore of the future that alludes to the inevitable fate of works of art once embraced in the arms of the museum and the art market. Broodthaers’s working methods and his overinflated reputation for being difficult to work with may, even to this day, put off some curators and museum directors from being involved with his work. Broodthaers was not difficult to work with; the fact was that he was his own best curator. He would refine and refine his ideas until he achieved what he wanted. Working with him was not difficult at all, but it was demanding, so that you had to be patient, hold on to your nerve and closely follow his thinking. He would precisely construct the context of his work within his own conceptual parameters, relating constantly to his intentions and purposes of the exhibition or project as he had conceived it — sometimes putting existing works together to create new, combined, multiple meanings.
 
Over his lifetime he worked long and very hard to enrich our cultural and intellectual life for very little financial reward. It is now for those who have known his work for a long time and those who are interested but new to it to keep his work fresh and alive for a forever-expanding contemporary audience.
 
Even during his lifetime, and particularly now, Broodthaers has been difficult to categorize; he has never fitted easily into Surrealism or Conceptual Art. Although very much an international figure in the art world of the ’60s and ’70s, he has since remained an outsider who even since his death has contributed to our understanding of the world of ideas. In his own words: “It is possible to grasp reality as well as that which reality conceals.”
Barry Barker
http://www.flashartonline.com/interno.php?pagina=articolo_det&id_art=466&det=ok&title=MARCEL-BROODTHAERS 

Musée d’Art Moderne, Département Des Aigles, Section des Figures Düsseldorf Kunsthalle, May 16- July 9, 1972

Naturally aided by his scattered physical legacy, there’s something mysterious, apparition-like, about Broodthaers’ art that asks to be protected. One can unpack his programmatic use of mussels and eggshells, for instance, but the works containing membranes – delicate protectors of more delicate contents – seem, in retrospect, almost a caution to interpreters chasing a master code. Considering Grand casserole de moules (Large pot of Mussels, 1966), a bluish surfeit of glued bivalve shells rising implausibly out of a black steamer pot in a holistic form weirdly reminiscent of a hamburger, one wants to linger in the forest of potential discursive content: the Mitteleuropean response to Pop that salutes fine dining over fast food; the metaphoric gravitation towards structures (the shell, the pot) that are Janus-faced, not only protecting but also restricting freedom; the reality-exceeding autonomy of art.

In his dandyish attention to styles of normative constraint, in particular, it’s clear that Broodthaers’ great tactical gift to art was his location of a place between meaning and meaninglessness, positing both as contingent. One of many unseatings of language here, 4 Pipes Alphabet (1969) – four embossed plastic reliefs on which the alphabet is tidily spelt out, with occasional anarchic divergences, around four graphic depictions of Magrittean pipes – is a deviation from a given rule that convinces through its spotless formal crispness. Broodthaers did deadpan certitude almost arrogantly well: he could locate it in something as simple as the slide projector’s metronomic click in Bateau–tableau (Boat–Picture, 1973), which shuffles through close-ups of a maritime painting. Such gambits, of course, touch on his lawless reinvention of museology, exemplified by his ongoing project Musée d’Art Moderne (Section XIXe Siècle) Département des Aigles. First produced in Broodthaers’ Brussels home in 1968 and then transported into various institutional settings (involving the re-labelling of existing art works), this was never going to transfer well into a retrospective, and one gets only the faintest hints of it here: a couple of photographs, a couple of props. Such, of course, is the big problem with accurately anthologizing Broodthaers: many of his projects for institutions are hugely difficult to reconstruct. But, again, maybe it’s better this way: some things ought to be left viewable only through a glass darkly, where misprision can do its work.
Martin Herbert
http://www.frieze.com/issue/review/marcel_broodthaers/

Yuck 'n Yum winter 2013

Yuck 'n Yum - Thank You and Happy Holidays‏

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Dear Yuck 'n Yummers,


As 2013 draws to a close we bid farewell to our quarterly art zine.  The final launch took place at the Hannah Maclure Centre on Saturday 14th of December.  Thanks to everyone who came along and to the excellent entertainment provided by The Members, The Hugs, Raz Ullah and our very own Alex Tobin.  The zine was active for five years and we would like to thank all past contributors, cover artists and supporters for your energy that has made it such a success.  Without you it wouldn't have happened.
We'd especially like to thank Cos Ahmet, our final cover artist, who made a special trip to Dundee to bid it farewell.

The final issue is now onlinewhere you can also view and download our back-catalogue.


2014 brings a fresh direction to Yuck 'n Yum and we are hitting the ground running with our first project ZineIdol.  To celebrate new beginnings we are offering the support, guidance, and £500 seed money to bring your own self- published zine venture to fruition.  Deadline 1st of February 2014, ZineIdol event 8th of February 2014, for more details please visit http://zineidol.yucknyum.com

We'd like to wish you a wonderful time over the festive period and thank you for your continued support!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS
Love from the Yuck 'n Yum team

Best of 2013

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FWIW here's my selection of the best this year had to offer:

ART






















Mike Kelley -  Themes and Variations from 35 Years (Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam)
http://www.stedelijk.nu/en/news/news-items/overview/mike-kelley-themes-and-variations-from-35-years

FILM

Spring Breakers
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2101441/

BOOK






















Laura Ellen Joyce - The Museum of Atheism (Salt Publishing)
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15755021-the-museum-of-atheism

MUSIC

Patrick Cowley - School Daze (Dark Entries)
http://www.discogs.com/Patrick-Cowley-School-Daze/release/4899952

DJ MIX

Helena Hauff - RA.373
http://www.residentadvisor.net/podcast-episode.aspx?id=373

http://www.mixesdb.com/w/2013-07-22_-_Helena_Hauff_-_Resident_Advisor_%28RA.373%29

THEATRE

Gisèle Vienne and Dennis Cooper - The Pyre (Pompidou, Paris)
http://tinyurl.com/pyrepompidou

The Skinny - Yuck ’n Yum, Zine Idol and AGK

Soft Cell - Mutant Moments

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Soft Cell are an English synthpop duo who came to prominence in the early 1980s. They consist of vocalist Marc Almond and instrumentalist David Ball.

Soft Cell was initiated during 1978 after Almond and Ball met at Leeds Polytechnic. Their initial efforts at recording resulted that year in an EP titled Mutant Moments which was funded by a loan of £2000 from Dave Ball's mother and made with a simple 2-track recorder. 2,000 vinyl copies of the release were issued independently and the small number of copies have since become a highly valued collectors item. The group's live shows and EP caught the interest of certain record labels such as Mute Records and Some Bizzare Records.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soft_Cell

Mutant Moments is a short EP, independently financed and produced by Soft Cell, a synthpop/new wave duo who would later achieve fame with their groundbreaking hit cover of the Gloria Jones song "Tainted Love". Only 2000 copies were pressed, originally by Soft Cell, on Big Frock Records, then later by a Japanese fan club, making the record extremely rare and prized by collectors and fans alike. The duo, who attended Leeds Metropolitan University, originally developed a cult following with their performances which routinely included bizarre sexual imagery and visuals representing sexual themes. Some examples include instances where singer Marc Almond would smear his body with cat food, simulate sexual intercourse with a full-length mirror, or appear onstage in drag.

The band was signed to Some Bizzare Records soon after its release, with "The Girl With The Patent Leather Face" being released on the Some Bizzare Album and later a 7" single "A Man Can Get Lost" and 12" single "Memorabilia", both being released the following year.

The EP includes the song "Frustration," which also appears on their full-length studio album Non-stop Erotic Cabaret, though the two versions sound very different. The other three songs from the EP also appear on the rarities/bootleg compilation The Bedsit Tapes.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutant_Moments



Credits
  • Other [Visuals]– Steven Griffith
  • Synthesizer, Tape [Tapes], Electronics– David Ball
  • Vocals, Performer [Synthetic Scratch]– Marc Almond
  • Written-by [All Titles]– Soft Cell
Only 2000 copies were pressed and all were issued with a postcard.

The unofficial reissue has plain red and green labels without titles, comes in black and coloured vinyl and has a wraparound sleeve.

© 1980
Dist. by Red Rhino Records

Runout:
Side A: D1 / 6 I / (Digit scratced out) ABF - 1A
Side B: D1 / ABF - 1B

Track times not on release.
http://www.discogs.com/Soft-Cell-Mutant-Moments-EP/release/478898



Let's go back to 1980s Leeds. Marc Almond and David Ball were both art students and got together to write music for theatrical productions. It was actually a self-financed EP called Mutant Moments that kickstarted their chart career. Funded by a loan of £2,000 from David Ball's mother (a very wise investment) the boys, under the name Soft Cell had 2000 vinyl copies pressed. Copies of this EP are now highly prized collector items.

The EP brought Soft Cell to the attention of the head of Some Bizzare Records who had bands such as Depeche Mode and The The signed to them. He then enlisted Daniel Miller (founder of Mute Records) to produce their first singles - 'A Man Can Get Lost' and 'Memorabilia'.

lou16
http://lou16.squidoo.com/soft-cell



Soft Cell could always guarantee a good turn-out from the fine art students. The audience was also bolstered by those lingering ex-students who couldn't quite break away from our state-sponsored lunatic asylum.

Before the show, Almond mingled with his audience dressed in a black dinner jacket. The Poison People were laughing loudly, already high on narcotics as Russ and I downed our glasses of foul orange liquid. Other fine art musso's propped up the bar and we sniggered to ourselves as Marc snubbed the socialites desperate attempts to engage him in conversation.

At that time, Soft Cell were very much an avant garde cabaret act. It was inconceivable that they would ever break into mainstream pop music and have the biggest selling single of 1981.

Frank Sinatra's 'Mac the knife' set the scene for an evening of camp posturing. The light show was really professional. They had a neon sign at the front of the stage that had been made by Nottingham stage-set designer, Huw Feather. This bore the legend 'Soft Cell' and was flanked by two large projection screens. The screens hosted Griffith's 8mm movies of Marc prancing outside the Merrion Shopping Centre in women's clothes and make-up. The colour was really garish and in stark contrast to the group's black attire.

Dave Ball's discordant basslines, car-horn chords and Blackpool pier melodies were the perfect backdrop for the dwarfish front-man. Charged with nervous energy, Marc was like one of those seaside laughing sailors, rolling around in a glass box, limbs flailing all over the place. His echo-machine gave up just as he was launching into 'Girl with a patent leather face'. Russ was red-faced with laughter as vitriolic lyrics cut through the mix, Dalek fashion, sharp as a knife.

Next, one of the cine projectors failed, leaving half the set in darkness whilst Griffiths tugged away at various live cables. It was pure theatre, but Marc and his four-track reel-to-reel just kept on turning until the set was over. 
 
At three o'clock in the morning, the club finally turned out its mawkish clientelle into the heart of Leeds' red light district. Russ and I then had the prospect of a five mile hike to the Halls of Residence in Beckett Park. By the time we got back, my feet were on fire and my head hit the pillowlike a lump of lead. 
 
Tomorrow's Brancussi lecture was definitely off! 
Paul Fillingham

Adam Dant - Soerditch

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Soerditch: Diary of a Neighbourhood, 2013

Adam Dant is a Jerwood Drawing Prize-winning British artist (2002).

Dant was born in Cambridge in 1967 but now lives and works in London.

He has won praise from The Guardian and Financial Times for his Hogarthian graphic style. He was educated at the Royal College of Art, University Faculty of Fine Arts, Abroad, India and the Liverpool School of Art.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adam_Dant

Soerditch: Diary of a Neighbourhood, 2013

Adam Dant's hyper-detailed drawings are like objects magicked out of a fictional realm. With their ornate borders and trompe l'oeil crinkled edges, his fantastic maps, books and charts navigate worlds whose strange territory seems to depend on figures of speech or even hallucinations. His Bureau for the Investigation of the Subliminal Image included studies of self-portraits supposedly hidden in paintings in the Louvre. Dant meticulously documented these concealed images, apparently rendered subconsciously by artists, as if they were part of orthodox art history. Elsewhere, he has turned categorisation itself on its head with "underneathism", painstakingly depicting from below everything from supermarkets to beach life.

His peculiarly British wit extends to social satire: the Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie are among the tabloid favourites whose public personas Dant has imaginatively unpicked, earning him comparisons with Hogarth. Furthermore, his works – especially Donald Parsnips Daily Journal, one of his first projects – frequently resemble the output of an 18th-century press. They're more like pamphlets to be pored over in coffee shops, not galleries.

Dant is a member of the London Institute of 'Pataphysics, a continuation of Alfred Jarry's "science of imaginary solutions". Members of its European equivalents have included Umberto Eco and one of Dant's big influences, the literary group Oulipo.
Skye Sherwin
http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2012/sep/12/artist-week-adam-dant

Map of Industrious Shoreditch, 2013

Dazed Digital: What was it about the question “Where is the East End today?” that interested you?
 

Adam Dant: I’d been producing a different, unusual map of my immediate locale, Shoreditch, every year since I relocated there. The question interested me as it affirmed a parity of opinion, whether an individual's connection with ‘east London' was days or decades old. I was interested in comparing the sensation of viewing a place for the first time with the experience of culturally specific histories and agendas.

DD: What was your creative process behind the concept for the map?
 

AD: The process of making the map was determined by the desire to meet as many random individuals in east London as possible. I asked several ‘scouts' to walk from the edge of London towards the 'heart' of east London, asking individuals for directions en route. I had in mind the spiral system of Paris' arrondissements as a model for imposing a type of central planning on east London.


DD: Your work almost entirely surrounds maps and the creation of inspired and creative cartography.

AD: 
I'm interested in maps as they represent the imposition of an artificial order onto a seemingly random landscape in my drawings, as is often determined by ‘literalist’ or ‘ridiculous’ schemes. It is supposed to act as a parody of this and hopefully exposes the stupidity of the attempts by various groups in history, christians, muslims, cyclists et al, to organise and explain the universe according to their own agendas.
http://www.dazeddigital.com/artsandculture/article/13459/1/adam-dant-journey-to-the-heart-of-east-london

Map of Industrious Shoreditch, 2013

Satirising a contemporary urban world, Adam Dant‘s cartoon exhibition Soerditch, Diary of a Neighbourhood offers an irreverent guide to Shoreditch. Embracing an irreverent newspaper aesthetic, Dant’s sketches provide a mocking guide to the area’s post-1993 residents. And what is most striking about “Tech City” and its glitterati of Wifi-workers, street food vendors and Harry Potter capitalists is the abandonment of history.

There are no blood relationships with the dead and the Victorian furniture and rag factories have long been scrubbed clean of their industrial residuum. With East London’s past shucked out within a generation, the old warehouses and churches are like fumigated skulls. They are merely an interim host that will exchange hands every thirty years.

While the East London dead are ignored their buildings live on vicariously without them. Originally assembled by coarse working hands, there is a natural hierarchy with age and somehow an older building is considered more ‘real’ than something new. History provides an emotional backbone that modernity with all its superficialities and globalised rootlessness simply cannot.

By mapping this technological, consumerist and leisure society, Dant’s cartoons provides a wry sense of character and warmth to the area. Shoreditch’s transformation from industrial workshop to a consumer paradise is just another step along the road towards our final destination as archaeology. The Roman Empire lies crushed underneath East London’s converted warehouses and over time Shoreditch will follow suit – a pop up world awaiting to collapse.
Daniel Agnew
http://danielagnew.org/tag/adam-dant/ 

Adam Dant from Supposed Histories on Vimeo.

Receipts

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Bought a few items:






















Shirley Jackson - The Haunting of Hill House (Penguin Modern Classics), £2.76
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6393407-the-haunting-of-hill-house






















Raymond Pettibon - Here's Your Irony Back: Political Works 1975-2013 (Hatje Cantz), £25.00
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18385151-raymond-pettibon

Kerridge ‎– A Fallen Empire 2LP (Downwards), £14.99
http://www.discogs.com/Kerridge-A-Fallen-Empire/release/5058952 

Drexciya - Journey Of The Deep Sea Dweller IV 2LP (Clone Classic Cuts), £15.25
http://www.discogs.com/Drexciya-Journey-Of-The-Deep-Sea-Dweller-IV/release/5178667
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