Nottingham Contemporary.
When in a city, visit the art gallery.
Having some time after visiting a friend and before my coach departed, I popped into the Nottingham Contemporary. The exterior alone struck a chord with the lace-imprinted concrete façade, so was hopeful for some other textile-related goodies.
The main exhibition at Nottingham Contemporary, Our Silver City, was a vision of Nottingham in post-apocalyptic times - or I guess, just what the future may hold, asking how artefacts could continue to help us establish a place. Each gallery had a distinct identity, helping you move through the space differently: the first was very curatorial and open, the second dark and cave-like, and the third almost like a home with sculptures and rugs and furniture. The fourth I only saw from the outside, but it was open and honest with no place to hide. And indeed, the theme of each gallery honed in on this atmosphere: Time Of Change (stripped back), Time To Understand (primitive), Time For Inner Knowledge (addressing the familiar), Time To Transmit Wisdom (architecturally ritualistic).
“Our Silver City asks: How might art envision, prototype and practice new ways of being in the uncertain future? Who were “we” before we became “we”? Where are we going? And how might we get there?”
Images: Stuart Whipp
Time Of Change.
The first gallery introduced Nottingham as a city shut off by ice, with a regenerating forest caused by continuous summer fires, so the artefacts showcased the passing of time in reflection of its own value. It began with the city maps showing an intricate network, and then a simplified version of how we may use a space. We can easily look back at an archive and explore the differences and developments, yet still choose personally to consider it on the macro and micro levels.
The third image along is Companion Species, Emergency Weave by Eline McGeorge, which uses emergency blankets, a canvas stretcher and an inkject printer. The bag in view beneath it is Octo Clutch/Temporary Home by Sandra Mujinga that uses a coated polyamide (nylon) fabric, an inkjet print on acrylic perspex, steel and silicone. These are soft and hard examples of what we may need as shelter in times of crises or when on the move. I am considering our affectation for materials and how they may help us survive emotionally even when not physically functioning, so I was drawn to these two.
The fourth image along is Mind field: framework to integrate things seen across different fields I by Vivian Lynn, which is a collage and mixed media on aluminium. It really required getting up close, then moving away, and shifting angles from side to side. I guess this is what is meant by “different fields” and addresses maybe how we change perspectives - emotionally and physically - to understand our space. The collages are the Rorshach prints, looking here like butterflies/plants/orchids - another expression of ephemerality and personal perspective.
Photos show works in the Time of Change gallery: 1. Gallery statement; 2. Nottingham City maps from 1952; 3. Companion Species, Emergency Weave by Eline McGeorge and Octo Clutch/Temporary Home by Sandra Mujinga (bag); 4. Mind field: framework to integrate things seen across different fields I by Vivian Lynn.
These super interesting textures below are a series from Céline Condorelli called Synthetic Chromatophore, which show patterns caused by the reaction of various metals and minerals on cellulose membranes. They were commissioned by the gallery, so no other information seems to be available. But to my eyes, this organic aesthetic is so pleasing and inspiring.
And then another type of organic markmaking; Roger Ackling’s One Hour Sun Drawing (left) and One Hour Sun Wheel (right) made using sunlight on wood on card.
Left image: Synthetic Chromatophore by Céline Condorelli, a reaction of various metals and minerals on cellulose membranes [Credit: Stuart Whipp]. Right image: Roger Ackling’s One Hour Sun Drawing (left) and One Hour Sun Wheel (right) made using sunlight on wood on card.
Artist Nimiia Cétii was also shown here. I’d taken a photo of the exhibition card to prompt me to research the artist later, but not the work itself as it was a 12 minute video. I came across this artist in an exhibition months later at Center Pompidou in Paris, Worlds Of Networks, which I’ve also written about. Interestingly, I’d posted the latter work here, as if this was where I had seen it, so embedding the integration of time and networks as explored by both exhibitions.
Time To Understand.
The next gallery took you into a quiet space, darker and shrouded, with little noises echoing to draw you in to pockets of the room. It felt primal. In this space and vision, Nottingham has started to become repopulated with craftspeople, specifically textile-oriented, and so works explored the biomimicry of nature to help us as humans be more integrated for survival.
The main textile piece as you walk in, Reflective Aural Study, is again from Céline Condorelli, a main curator of the show, which is simply a mesmerising length of printed cotton cloth using vegetable dyes - would be magnificent as a kimono. The bulk of the room showcases Céline’s Aural Studies work as a whole, with the next big textile piece being a vegetable dyed curtain that opens as a film behind it finishes. Artefacts and other films displayed around explored our connection to colour and materials, including rocks and digital printers, which in a way connects the viewer back to the origin of these colours.
In the fourth image along, this is a work by Revital Cohen and Tuur van Balen, Blue Roan (Semitendinosus), using horse ash to powder-coat steel. In the photo the texture does not reveal itself, but it was as if it really was a cloud. Upon researching, the Nottingham Contemporary Facebook page brought up that this is in fact a unique method of painting; the paint formula is made from the ashes of a thoroughbred racehorse. The powder particles are the thickness of horsehair and the colour is mixed to match a blue roan—a rare colour pattern for horse coats. So I thought it was a cloud, because I didn’t have the context, but doesn’t make my appreciation for the colour and texture any less great.
Images: 1-3. Reflective Aural Study by Céline Condorelli [2-3 credit to Céline Condorelli]; 4. Blue Roan (Semitendinosus) by Revital Cohen and Tuur van Balen.
Time For Inner Knowledge.
The third gallery was cosy. It felt like a home, and indeed the floor was carpeted so you were invited to take of your shoes or use a shoe cover. It was textile-heavy, and even any organic matter in the sculptures felt soft. The myriad of materials - even with the bold colours - felt primitive, from the wooden installations, to the stoneware, to the use of hair.
Photo 1: Kon Tiki by Armando D. Cosmos, a woven tapestry that had both beauty and function. It explained how the boat - the Kon Tiki - could actually work by embedding the craft techniques in the tapestry itself. Ingenious.
Photo 2-3: Sheltering The Future by Armando D. Cosmos - it was so clever. It was colourful on one side, and shades of blue on the other, making you perceive each side distinctively as parallel worlds: the same, but not the same. So intricate.
Photo 4: Traditional low impact garments - Gligman’s Vestment from The Kindred of the Kibbo Kift. Designed to use the full width of the cloth to create a playful outfit for use in parades only (not ceremonies), it appears Bauhaus in style, somewhat taking away from the more ritualistic nature of the Kibbo Kift - an organisation that aimed to unite outdoor living and artistic practice with mystical beliefs and practices. [Learn more about the Kibbo Kift here].
Images: 1. Kon Tiki by Armando D. Cosmos; 2-3. Sheltering The Future by Armando D. Cosmos; 4. Gligman’s Vestment from The Kindred of the Kibbo Kift.
Those were my favourites, the ones that captivated me most. However, I kept a list of works that were curated for this room — The Temple — by Grace Ndiritu.
Time To Transmit Wisdom.
Earlier on in the weekend we had passed the gallery and knew I wanted to return based on looking through the window at this installation. Femke Herregraven considered the impact of cyclical knowledge on how we plan ahead, using the weather as the input data. I think I felt that I couldn’t go in to disturb this piece, and it didn’t feel like there was direction to get here physically anyway, so unsure if that was the point. But I liked the use of both stones and doodles as language.
Images: Photo 1 from Stuart Whipp, Photo 2 my reflection photo.
If you fancy reading a novella on how the Silver City 2094 came into being, as a physical space in “real life”, then here is the link to Our Silver City 2094 by Liz Jensen, a Copenhagen-based British novelist, whose acclaimed work spans science-fiction, satire, historical fantasy and black comedy. She is a founder
member of Extinction Rebellion’s Writers Rebel.