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.
IN SEARCH OF MEDIEVAL INSPIRATION: PART 2(iii)
Fig. 52
Fig. 53
Fig. 54
Figures 52-54 show the magnificent oak beam, early 15th century access points, to the bells and towers of Salle Church, Cawston Church and Wiveton Church, respectively.
Fig. 55
Figure 55 shows carved wooden benches from Wiggenhall St. Mary. Dated from the 1400s, they are said to be the finest in England. The oldest benches lie south of the nave, whilst those dated to the 1500s lie north of the nave. Sitting in these heavy and elaborate benches requires a straight back – good for the posture no doubt, but one cannot but think that they kept parishioners alert during lengthy, dreary sermons too!
Fig. 56
Fig. 57 Fig. 58 Fig. 59
Figures 56-59 show 15th century bench ends from Thornham Church.
Fig. 60 Fig. 61 Fig. 62
Fig. 63 Fig. 64 Fig. 65
Figures 60–64 mark work of the 15th century from Wiggenhall St. Mary Church; Figure 65, from the 16th century. Other carvings of the 16th century I have encountered come from the sanctuary at St. Nicholas Chapel, King’s Lynn (Figs. 66–71).
Fig. 66 Fig. 67 Fig. 68
Fig. 69 Fig. 70 Fig. 71
Fig. 72
Figure 72 is one end of a 15th century bench. The light in Wiggenhall St. Mary Church was very bright, making photography of bench ends difficult, as each end faced large Perpendicular Period aisle windows. The above was my best effort.
