KEY POINTS:
A century ago Cezanne talked about cultivating his "little sensation". Today's artists are still presenting their sensations but not only by painting. This week, a whole range of visual thrills are offered as short video clips by veteran Swiss artist Roman Signer. He has been his country's representative at a Venice Biennale and, at 70 years of age, he has a considerable body of work behind him.
Those who saw his work at the Gus Fisher Gallery a couple of years ago will never forget the drama and pathos of a toy helicopter struggling inside a box, thrashing about like a wounded animal before it expired. Now we can consider a whole range of his work. Six are on show at Artspace in K Rd; another eight are at the AUT St Paul St Gallery. Two more are in Window at the university library and one in Shop 6 on the corner of Symonds St and K Rd. All run until April 19.
These films are all records of performance. Some are quiet and steady but most are explosive in some way. They all show actions by the artist, mostly filmed and edited by his wife. Each one offers a different sensation. All are allegories about aspects of life but viewers will find a different meaning hidden in them according to their own life experience.
Artspace has Sand on Radio. A steady stream of sand falls on a tinny portable radio with its aerial up playing Baroque music. The pile of sand grows, gradually, finally enveloping the radio. The sand falls in a regular series of cascades down the hill as it forms. We anticipate and wait for the moment when the radio will disappear. As it gradually gets buried, it evokes a feeling of admiration for its courage in continuing playing. When it is gone, the aerial becomes a grave marker. The work is witty, primitive and curiously touching. The great English artist Turner painted a dramatic picture of an avalanche overwhelming a cottage in the mountains. Signer's work is nowhere near so dramatic but, in its oddly piquant way, it evokes the same emotions about human endeavour amidst the forces of nature.
Another called Hayfever involves a man placidly reading an art book while masses of newly mown hay are vomited up from a hole in the floor. It reflects our capacity to carry on while violent, inexplicable events happen around us.
Also at Artspace is the most humorous and elaborate of these performances. The artist sets his hat on the top of a bucket containing water and an explosive charge and links it to a switch set off by dropping a clay ball from a window high above. He prepares himself to catch his hat at the window by donning a girdle that is safety device and ritual ornament. The charge blows the hat up the wall almost into his grasp but it evades him. He tries again. It snags on a roof out of reach. He eventually catches the hat (at a lower window) and ceremoniously puts it on. The absurdity is amusing but the sense of struggle to attain some end is universal.
At St Paul Street, the work is even more touching. In one piece, a woollen cap hanging in air seems odd. When the artist mounts a box beneath it and puts the cap on, everything is still placid. When it is drawn over his eyes, there is suddenly the sombreness of execution. A sudden vivid red explosion. The body drops. The cap stays swinging. The artist walks away. Comedy, tension, release are all evoked and given weight by the violence of the explosion.
In this venue, the most telling of all is a figure suddenly assaulted by an explosion of paint. The outline of the figure is left on the wall and the residue of paint on the floor resembles blood.
Signer's shows across town are called Sculpting in Time. He shows it is possible to achieve an artistic personality and create vivid art by means of short video. We are fortunate so much of his work is here.
Another artist from Europe, now firmly settled in New Zealand, is Leon van den Eijkel whose exhibition The Next Big Religion Series is at Bath Street Gallery until April 12.
Once again the viewer is faced with a variety of sensations but this time in a whole range of media. Most curious of all is a group of wheelbarrows as sculpture. Their original red and black is very effective but each one has been individualised by colour tipped into the tray and allowed to find its own shape and depth. These impractical additions convert the barrows into art.
The artist insists that as the ancient Egyptians honoured the donkeys that helped make the pyramids, he is honouring builders' barrows. Such twists of thought also motivate the paintings. In a series of black paintings with colour emerging around the edges like underground fires, the colour went on first, then the black covered it. But the black is never absolute - it takes a tint, brown-black, blue-black, from the colour beneath. The opposite happens in The Last Judgement where there is a vast empty space in each frame with licks of colour around the edge.
The religious theme is emphasised in a series of digital prints on vinyl where symbols like the cross or a Buddha get everyday settings. The shine of vinyl also gives a sense of absolute to several sculptured wall crosses. This perfection is contradicted by setting one arm of the cross at odds with the rest by line or colour.
The sense of purpose in all these works is unwavering and strong but, despite their imaginative concept, polished finish and lively sensation, they are disturbingly ambivalent.
