Review of the week
Brenda Atkinson
Due to the unique way in which it is constituted, Unplugged – the annual “chain letter” exhibition at the Rembrandt van Rijn Gallery – is indicative of many things. Because artists get to select each other for the show, thus determining its content and, theoretically, its presentation, the final selection functions as a map of national artworld alliances. It also provides a form of socio-political demography.
For example, the participants in Unplugged 1 (1996) consisted almost exclusively of white male artists, a kind of self-conscious “brat back”.
The selection process confined itself to Johannesburg and Pretoria, with the exceptional inclusion of Cape Town’s Malcolm Payne, the last artist to appear on the list.
This year’s exhibition, which numbers 20 artists altogether, travels from Cape Town to Johannesburg via Knysna and Bethuli, includes nine women, and only 12 white artists. All of which is extremely encouraging – there’s nothing like a radical constitution to kick complacent white ass.
But desperately discouraging is the fact that the Unplugged exhibitions consistently fail to indicate any sense of lateral communication – let alone thought – regarding the outcome of the final exhibition.
Despite the neon lights that announce this as an exercise in “soft curating” – a method which, taken seriously, could produce some wild and fascinating exhibitions – the artists concerned seem quite happy to bump along in the queue, selecting their friends or classmates or maids or siblings for inclusion, never daring to look at the bigger picture.
And the selected artists show remarkably little discernment regarding which of their works they send in,which suggests that they should perhaps not be allowed to select their own work.
Unplugged IV – the penultimate exhibition in the five-year programme – is a pretty disheartening case in point. Terry Kurgan kicks off with two beautiful photographs of her children. She selects Julia Clark, a known Cape-based artist, who selects John Nankin.
By the time we reach Roderick Sauls, the work has veered off into territory of some banality: not even Walter Meyer and Kevin Brand can rescue viewers from the impression that they’re awash in derivative and misplaced neo-conceptualism, or jaded offerings of old work, or misguided hankerings for abstract expressionism.
There are some redeeming moments that emerge in the shadows of Kurgan, Meyer and Brand. Gregg Smith’s 9 Acts of Selfless Co-operation in a Built-up Area, while not great art, is conceptually witty. Smith’s snap-shot photos taken in Cape Town depict, among other things, a glass tea-cup supporting a sash window to let air in; drain water enabling the free movement of a styrofoam chip, a car’s rear bumper providing a resting-place for informal traders, and “Refuse bags queuing quietly for collection.”
Senzeni Marasela’s Stompie is understated and moving: a photographic print of Stompie Seipei is screened onto the soft cream fabric of a number of small stacked table-cloths, the edges framed by crocheted lace. And Robin Rhode’s Unplugged – a video in which we watch the artist “tuning” a television that he has drawn onto the gallery wall – is a delightful spoof of the exhibition title and a playful take on his own medium.
Although Unplugged more often than not lacks any properly curatorial thought from its contributors, the exhibition has gained a certain notoriety in artworld circles, and this year’s opening night drew a good crowd.
Here’s hoping that the participants in next year’s finale make the effort to think about the process they are engaged in, and aim for a result that makes use, not of a linear chain of connections, but of an arterial network through which blood actually pulses.
Unplugged IV runs at the Rembrandt van Rijn Gallery, Newtown, in Johannesburg until March 13