Fine art of acting the clone

By MALCOLM BURGESS

Goy-co-laya. The name trips off the tongue like a fairytale spell.

Lolita-like, it evokes the tense coil of the snake preparing to strike, as well as the playful innocence of the victim, although Cuban-American artist Anthony Goicolea is not so much an older man with a girl-child in his sights as an older self bent on exploiting the energy of his youth.

This New York hotshot has a special affinity for New Zealand. His boyfriend is a Kiwi and he first exhibited in New Zealand at K Rd's Artspace in 2000.

His unusual name is of Basque origin, meaning "forage on the hill". But recent success means he no longer has to forage - he has been able to work solely as an artist for the past three years.

Goicolea studied art history, drawing and painting at the University of Georgia. He moved to New York nine years ago, where he graduated in sculpture and photography at the Pratt Institute.

But he is most well known on these shores for his digitally altered photographs featuring multiple clones of himself. They act out uncomfortable, sexually charged scenes, always with a cute, wry smile and a coy gaze. These seemingly homoerotic pieces go beyond their sexual subtext - after all, is sexual desire for one's self homosexual? In such ways Goicolea translates aspects of the homosexual, incestuous or paedophilic into a realm anyone can deal with.

Goicolea's "clones" came to life as a reaction to an earlier series of self-portraits. "I wanted to include other characters but I didn't want it to be collaborative," he says.

Access to a computer in his day job doing graphic design for a clothing company enabled him to digitally manipulate these images.

Although Goicolea is 32, childhood and adolescence feature prominently in his work. "The aspect of childhood softens the blow of some difficult issues," he says.

The ridiculous nature of using versions of himself also makes difficult themes more accessible. "It gives people permission to look." It's like watching a horror movie - the minute you feel uncomfortable with the subject matter, you can remind yourself it's just a movie, and it all "deconstructs", he says.

The movie analogy is apt - Goicolea is fascinated by films in which children are the catalyst for something otherworldly, such as Village of the Damned, or even ET. The contrasts of boyhood versus manhood, the cult of youth and the Peter Pan syndrome also arise.

The Gow Langsford Gallery seems to have chosen the more controversial works from Goicolea's portfolio, demonstrating what he calls the "self-performative" aspect of his work - spitting, licking, masturbating and so forth.

By emphasising youthful transgression and self-awareness, these figures call to mind the odd way in which getting caught out can strengthen a public figure's appeal by showing they are just as fallible as the rest of us.

This "enfant terrible" has a soft, youthful voice, like the Peter Pan he aims to expose. He has been in the Kaipara area all day, helping his boyfriend's brother take geological readings, although for what, he can't say.

But that's unimportant - he was out among the kind of landscapes he loves, so he's happy to have tagged along. "I really like it here. I get a lot of work done here - it's really inspiring for me." He has recently exhibited the fruits of this inspiration in New York, in a landscape series swapping his gimmicky clones for animals.

But Goicolea is no one-trick pony. While this exhibition is mostly digitally altered photography, it also features video. And Goicolea has returned to yet another artistic medium - drawing, something he hadn't done seriously for the past five or six years.

Goicolea describes this decision as a reaction to having used so many photos and computers. It's the immediacy of drawing that attracts him, as well as its tactile nature. But don't expect your traditional greyscale indulgences - he also uses vellum and sheets of perspex, so the drawings are "more 3D and sculptural". (You can see examples of these at www.anthonygoicolea.com)

It's a common platitude that to love others you must first love yourself, but love is no pure concept and perhaps it is the search for refinement that is the root of our problems.

Goicolea's work shows that love and lust don't necessarily develop in step with a child's sense of self - and are therefore each inherently selfish qualities. It's seeing them so divided that is such an affront to notions of absolutes and gender roles.

Exhibition

* What: Selected photography, by Anthony Goicolea

* Where & when: Gow Langsford Gallery to Sept 20