Held, Altered - No Vacancy
Installation view, image courtesy of Grace Mitchell
Now you wouldn’t know it, but Charlotte and I put ourselves on a No Vacancy ban. We’ve had enough of the pay to play gallery model (more thoughts in other writing to come) and wanted to focus on ARIs, and give less platform to gallery spaces which ask such high fees from artists and then still take commission on top. But, to get to why I’ve broken the No Vacancy ban, you have to hear about my Thursday evening because I’m nothing if not a self centred story teller. I was planning to head to Bus Projects after work yesterday to visit Us as stars, as horses by Sophie Coe, to fulfill my inner horsegirl. Yet, unfortunately, bad things come in threes;
1. I fell off a lime bike like 200m after leaving my office
2. Decided to get the tram instead, and my (new!) bag strap broke and spilled the contents of my bag across the wet ground at the tram stop in the pouring rain
3. I get to Bus and it’s closed!!! Despite what their opening hours lead me to believe 🙁
So, I was damp and cold and mad and just went home about it instead. I’ll try to get to Bus before the show’s out, but I couldn't do it in time for today’s post.
So here I am breaking the No Vacancy ban to write about Held, Altered featuring Grace Mitchell, Indya Pearce and Keely Vermalis. And I’m so glad that I’ve ended up here writing about this show, because I’m so pleasantly surprised how well these three artists work together in this space. At first glance, the through line between the work seems precarious. But spending time with the work in the space, I’m convinced. These works speak to each other through memory and time, and it almost feels like I’m walking into a private conversation being held between the artists.
Pearce’s works are warm memories, the figure appearing and disappearing between the paintings. Eyes closed, thoughts and memories come as layers over one another. The body is palpable through the work, almost like you could reach into any of these canvases and grip the flesh, fingers making soft indents and manipulating the memory. There is one small painting which is cradled within a small wooden box (very reminiscent of Mailbox Art Space), like it's a treasure to be found within, held safe by the glass. These paintings feel intimate and loving, sensual but not overtly sexy, a reflection on femininity and womanhood.
Mitchell’s paintings reflect back the fleshy nature of Peace’s work through the texture of the paintings themselves. “Filtered by fog, wax and and material decay” the muted palette feels like it’s reaching through time to tell a story. In the same way that Pearce’s paintings feel intimate, Mitchell’s feel almost like I’m looking through a lens at someone else’s detached reality. These paintings have a tenuous grip on existence, they could fade away at any second, leaving the canvases bare. They’re just a glimpse into this other world, another life perhaps.
In opposition, Varmalis’ glass installations are unwavering - solid and true. The plinths that the glass works sit atop are a part of the installation themselves, grounding the flowing fluid forms into the space and solidifying their bodies into reality. Glass is a hard material to make soft, and Vermalis has achieved it. They walk the line between fragility and solidity, liquid made solid.
Maybe this show lifts our writing ban on No Vacancy, or maybe it’s an exception that proves the rule. Expect to see some writing soon about our thoughts on the pay to play gallery structure and its impact on artists and the community.
Sadly, you have one day to get to No Vacancy to see the show before it comes down tomorrow June 6th.