Tate Modern:
Bruce Nauman
On 17th November 2017, I was, like a moth, instantly attracted to the bright lights of the Bruce Nauman exhibition (Tate Modern). His work demanded the viewer to (literally) take a step back and consider the purpose and context of his work. Nauman's extensive and imaginative use of media transmits a multitude of different ideas simultaneously. It is clear that his previous studies in Mathematics and Physics informed his practice and are a domineering influence on his work. One piece which caught my attention was 'Violins, Violence, Silence' (1981).
Violins, Violence, Silence
1981
Bruce Nauman
The artwork itself was made of coloured neon tubing with a clear glass suspension frame. As the letters overlap, it is hard to initially distinguish what the piece is actually conveying, proving rather disorientating. Additionally, the buzzing noise which accompanies the piece (originating from the neon tubing) is somewhat distracting. However, it is ironic that while reading 'violins' evokes a pure and unpolluted noise, in reality you are faced with a low, droning buzz. I enjoy the irony of Nauman's work and the complex ideas which lie behind the lights. There is much more to this piece than is initially apparent and I hope that other visitors to the gallery take the time to consider its complexity.
Another piece in the exhibition which caught my attention was 'Raw Material Washing Hands'(1996). The video, which documents one individual washing their hands constantly for 55 minutes is difficult viewing. It is reminiscent of a person suffering from obsessive–compulsive disorder (OCD) in which the individual is performing a routine repeatedly, as though it were a ritual. The video becomes painful to watch as we see the individuals skin being overworked by the soap and water and I must admit that although the video runs for just under an hour, I watched it for no longer than 10 minutes.
Raw Material Washing Hands,
Bruce Nauman
1996
After seeing Nauman's work, it is clear that he questions and stretches the boundaries of what it is to make art. He has purposefully left behind traditional notions of 'fine art' and has distanced himself from paint as a medium.
Cocoons and London Zoo Trip
Fig. 7 Fig. 8
Fig. 9 Fig. 10
Fig. 11 Fig. 12
The bench-end creature led me to consider insect emergence from a previous existence (Fig. 7), through a cocoon stage (Figs. 8-10) to a sort of rebirth, as something completely different (Fig. 11) yet, essentially, the same, to the sad end (Fig. 12). I pre-arranged a trip to London Zoo and, after explaining what I was doing to the Keeper, I went behind the scenes where the public are not allowed to go, to take some close-ups.
Fig. 13 Fig. 14
Fig. 15 Fig. 16 Fig. 17
The empty cocoons (of which there were many different shapes, colours and sizes) reminded me of my latex skin, both in colour (Figs. 13 & 14) and texture (Figs. 15-17) and I set about experimenting with the full-size skin.
Fig. 18
Prior to this however, I drew an extended, in time, decomposition image (Fig. 18) – a kind of extended Green Man – which was more vegetable based rather than insect based.
