Showing posts with label Winnie-the-Pooh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Winnie-the-Pooh. Show all posts

Monday, 28 August 2017

Laughing all the way to the Banksy?

The Art of Banksy
The Paddock, Federation Square (the dodgy car park, behind the Fed Square car park). Melbourne
7 October 2016 - 31 January 2017

Some time ago, I found myself in Melbourne, with a Banksy exhibition on my doorstep. I've always been intrigued by Banksy and his art. And, yes, I do think it is art, even though it is stencil and spray-paint and not always even by him. I find his ideas interesting, and warm to the way he takes the personal and makes it political. I know it has been described as crude and simplistic, but I find it inspirational in its clarity. It is direct and accessible and refutes the notion that art is for the elite. It is self-referential and deprecating in equal measure, and literally brings art out of auction houses and into the streets.


I Can't Believe You Morons Actually Buy This Shit (2007)
And yet an exhibition such as this takes it off the streets and puts it back into the gallery. Artwork such as Barcode Shark, Festival, or Consumer Jesus decry the fundamental ideas of capitalism, while there is, of course, a gift shop, selling these images on t-shirts, postcards and mugs begging the question who is the mug, here? One exhibit actually features t-shirts hung as works of art rather than clothing, further confusing the boundaries between ideology and practicality.



There is no exception to the rule that everyone thinks they're an exception to the rule - Banksy
Consumers of this art are being ridiculed even as they admire it. We must face the consequences of our desire to scorn the herd, just as we are a part of it. And we may want to feel special and different, but we aren't. And that hurts. 

Have a Nice Day
This exhibition was curated by Steve Lazarides, a British art gallery owner. Having studied photography at Newcastle University, he was working on a photo-shoot when he met Banksy and became his agent. He subsequently launched the website 'Pictures on Walls' to promote street artists and urban art. He and Banksy parted ways in 2008 and yet he obviously still champions his former client's work - again one wonders whether the relationship is amicable and mutually beneficial. 

Rude Copper
The majority of the paintings in this exhibition were originally exhibited and sold in some of Banksy's seminal shows, which included two of the artist's most well-known; Turf War which took place in Dalston in East London in 2003, and Barely Legal in Los Angeles 2006.

Lazarides explains that with the ability and skill to exercise a wide palette of contrasting techniques and mediums, these inside works retained the same motifs and ideas that were presented in the outside street pieces. The difference, however, was that they were created with the intention of being viewed within the context of an exhibition environment. While an outside street piece was always created to be transient - there one minute and gone the next - Banksy's inside paintings instead required the scrutiny of a longer view. These artworks would instead potentially be admired for several lifetimes.


Girl with Balloon (gold)
The Art of Banksy features over 80 pieces of original art and screen prints in a pop-up gallery on The Paddock at Federation Square. It does not have Banksy's permission and is therefore an unauthorised exhibition. But if you attack corporations for greed and insist that all work should be public, can you criticise the curators for holding such a show?


The Burger King Kid
"It is not my place to give you my opinion on what these pieces are about. That privilege lies with the artist and I'm pretty sure that isn't something he'd ever do. You as a viewer have as valid an opinion on these works as either me or Banksy. They mean whatever you, the viewer, think they mean - there is no right or wrong." - Steve Lazarides

Flower Thrower (on tarpaulin)
Dorothy Police Search
Many of these spray-painting images have become ironic icons. From the flower-throwing rioter to the American soldier searching Dorothy's basket, the pictures are dripping with sarcasm and subverting authority but also tinged with hope. They seem to say that if we recognise that rampant capitalism is eroding our freedoms and poisoning our communities, then others will too. And perhaps there is a a glimpse of a brighter future. Even the trashed Mini has a stencil of the girl with the hope balloon near the empty fuel tank.

 

The smiley face features heavily in this exhibition. Now used as an emoji - a symbol of happiness when vocabulary fails - the classic design by Harvey Ball in 1963 represented sunny hedonism to raise the morale of employees at State Mutual Life Assurance Company. In the early 1970s, two brothers based in Philadelphia, Bernard and Murray Spain, added the words 'have a nice day' to sell novelty badges and other paraphernalia to a nation determined to forget the traumas of Vietnam. 

It also suggests the late-80s acid house culture, when the logo appeared on acid tabs implying that one could only have a good time by getting out of one's head because 'real' life was too banal and depressing. Thus a simple child's drawing became hijacked by a number of corporations (Wal-Mart tried to trademark it in 2002) which makes it ripe for inclusion on Banksy's work.


Smiley Grim Reaper
Smiley Angel Policeman
Naturally one would expect a street artist to be anti-capitalist and against rampant consumerism. In this regards, Banksy doesn't disappoint.

Festival
Barcode Leopard
Very Little Helps
Consumer Jesus
Barcode Shark
By taking art from its hallowed walls and desecrating traditional-style paintings Banksy gives art back to the people. He seems to intimate that it should belong to us all, and that we should all be able to see it, rather than it disappearing into the hands of private collectors - which turns full-circle when his own alternative prints are hung in galleries, sold at auction and hidden from public view.

Turf War
Bullet-proof David; Suicide Bomber (2006)
 


Banksy did a series of 'defaced' work in which stencilled imagery is sprayed upon a found canvas, perhaps purchased from a flea market or salvaged from a dumpster. He was known for sneaking into art galleries and hanging his works alongside Old Masters, complete with interpretive panels explaining the 'hidden meanings'.

Violence and the resulting fear is another common theme - whether painting military weaponry or police brutality towards protesters, he frequently highlights the scaremongering and fear which grips nations. This corporate violence leads to a death of innocence, which he seems to decry - using powerfully deceptive imagery in stylistic silhouettes, such as might be found in a child's picture book. Personal possession, which denies communal appreciation seeks to own and control rather than share.

Warning Sign
Bombing Middle England and Weston-Super-Mare
La American Flag
Kids on Guns Hill


Pooh Bear Trap
"Imagine a city where graffiti wasn't illegal, a city where everybody could draw whatever they liked. Where every street was awash with a million colours and little phrases. Where standing at a bus stop was never boring. A city that felt like a party where everyone was invited, not just the estate agents and barons of big business. Imagine a city like that and stop leaning against the wall - it's wet." - Banksy
His artwork is temporary and ephemeral, but never whimsical. It is often painted over, or dismantled, if it is in the form of installation art. Just before the gift shop was an installation of an old-fashioned sweet shop with jars of sweets, looking like simple treats. On closer inspection they bore copies of his protest images - something to sugar-coat the pill, perhaps?


Obviously the gallery couldn't recreate these impermanent exhibitions, but it included photos and videos of them, to spread the word and the ideas.

 
 

He is a keen animal rights campaigner, which makes sense for someone who gives voices to those who need most support. In Sirens of the Lambs, a slaughter wagon full of cuddly toys was driven around the streets of New York. He has previously spray-painted sheep (the RSPCA deemed their treatment was humane) and included a live elephant in a room, which he instructed people not to mention. 

But perhaps his most famous animal creation is the rat; pressed into service for propaganda and sloganeering, it equally represents the trapped commuter we recognise who gets stuck in the maze of making money to survive.


Throughout the exhibition are signs exhorting us to take photos and to share this stuff - art is not the preserve of the elite; it belongs to the masses. And yet we were charged $30 to enter - and there were queues to get into the tent in the 'dodgy carpark' behind Federation Square. 

Is Banksy laughing all the way to the bank? Is he now part of the establishment he set out to rail against? Has he well and truly passed the tipping point? I like his ideas and his presentation of them, so I don't care if he is swimming with the current of the dreaded mainstream. And I get the impression that he doesn't either.



Friday, 23 August 2013

Friday Five: Animal Tales

Recently I re-read The Silver Brumby by Elyne Mitchell. I loved this book as a child with its wild stallions and blissful backdrop. I was hooked from the opening sentence.

"Once there was a dark stormy spring, when deep down in their holes, the wombats knew not to come out, when the possums stayed quiet in their hollow limbs, when the great, black flying phalangers that live in the mountain forests never stirred."
Although I had no comprehension of this landscape, I loved the book and vowed one day to go to the Snowy Mountains. Having now been, I have a whole new appreciation for this evocative set of books.

It reminded me of how much I enjoyed animal stories as a child, and still do as an adult, even though they are often terribly sad. Him Outdoors and I went to see the National Theatre production of War Horse and as I shed a tear and looked to him apologetically (expecting a comment along the lines of, ‘what’s up now, you daft apeth’) only to find him snivelling and snuffling himself.

So here is a list of favourite animal stories. Of course, there are some omissions. When I read Goodnight Mr Tom, the old man’s dog made a strong impression on me, but when I looked up a synopsis, there was no mention of the dog at all, so I probably can’t classify that as an ‘animal story’. The same goes for Roald Dahl’s The Witches although (SPOILER ALERT), when the boy gets turned into a mouse and knows he will only have a short lifespan, he is content because he doesn’t want to out-live his grandmother, and because, “it doesn’t matter who you are or what you look like so long as somebody loves you.”

Everybody knows that Animal Farm has very little to do with animals, and Winnie the Pooh doesn’t count because the animals are stuffed toys. Please feel free to add yours.

5 Favourite Books about Animals:
  1. The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame: I grew up with Ratty and Mole and Badger and Mr Toad. Their river was my river and their woods were my woods. I loved them. And I wholeheartedly agree that “there is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.”
  2. Black Beauty – Anna Sewell: the death of Ginger broke my nine-year old heart. This book is described in the Encyclopaedia of Animal Rights and Animal Welfare as “the most influential anti-cruelty novel of all time”. Anna Sewell’s depiction of the cruelty of the bearing rein (used to keep horse’s heads held high while pulling carriages) caused outrage and the practice was subsequently declared illegal in Victorian England.
  3. The Incredible Journey – Sheila Burford: Cats and dogs can be friends! And they travel through Canada together! And it has a happy ending!
  4. Watership Down – Richard Adams: The Animal Farm of the rabbit world. Adams places the individual and the collective against the corporate and the establishment. I can never look at fluffy bunnies in the same way again.
  5. Tarka the Otter – Henry Williamson: one of the most stressful endings ever.

Friday, 13 July 2012

Friday Five: Bears!

I love bears. Since the turn of last century, inspired by President Theodore Roosevelt, thousands of toy bears have been produced so that children can cuddle them, talk to them, take them to tea parties and rely on them for safety and protection night.

They are perfectly suited to this role, being round, cuddly and just a little bit rough. I would have to say that cats are my favourite animal, but they are largely indifferent and affection towards them isn't always reciprocal. In the words of Elvis Presley, 'I don't wanna be a tiger, cause tigers play too rough, I don't wanna be a lion, cause lions ain't the kind you love enough.'

5 Favourite Bears:
  1. Winnie the Pooh - obviously
  2. Paddington Bear - I just loved how he was always 'accidentally' getting into trouble and he had the best hard stare. I'd like to think we would still look after a hapless refuge if we found one at the station with a luggage tag around their neck.
  3. Barnaby the Bear - Originally French and slightly bonkers in translation
  4. Lars the little polar bear - so cute! The eternal dilemma; to travel and seek out new and potentially challenging adventures, or to stay safely at home?
  5. Bear Grylls - don't tell me you didn't see that one coming...

Friday, 22 June 2012

Friday Five: Child's Play


The Bible tells us that when you are a child you speak as a child and understand as a child, but when you become a man, you put away childish things. I’m not so sure. I prefer the bit about there being a season for everything and a time for every purpose – “a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance” etc. And I think that the time to be childish and play with games does not finish with childhood.

I recently bought my nephew some Lord of the Rings LEGO (sorry if he hasn’t already opened his present, but he’ll know soon enough…) with a little Gandalf, a hobbit and a horse and cart. One of the pictures on the box showed Gandalf feeding the noble steed a carrot, which was bigger than the horse’s head – it was all I could do to wrap up the box without tearing it open for a quick play. I loved LEGO as a kid, and it seems I still do.

It made me think about my favourite toys as a child. Of course, there were the cuddly animals who went everywhere with me – they were great companions and could be dressed up and made to play all sorts of games. They were often lined up in front of a blackboard while I taught them stuff. I’m not sure I was a very good teacher because I definitely had favourites who got most questions right (little swats) and some who were very thick and had to be beaten with the bamboo cane to improve their learning ability – yes, I’m afraid this was the 70s.

Some of them remain in my old room at my parents’ house, some are in a box in the attic and some have travelled around the world with me. There is a scene at the end of The House at Pooh Corner, in which Christopher Robin must go to school that breaks my heart. “But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the forest a little boy and his bear will always be playing.”

Books were my other great love, and I disappeared into them for hours and then made up adventures and stories of my own to play – they were fantastic for imagination and literacy development, but I’m not sure they can be counted as toys. The games I played (either with friends or aforementioned cuddly animals) were interactive, but the books themselves weren’t.

When it was the last day of term at school, people brought in board games to play – do they still do that, or is the whole of schooling just one long doss these days? Others had Buckaroo or Operation. I used to like Monopoly but the game usually lasted for hours and ended up in tears and tantrums (when Dad said we had been ganging up on him. He was right, we had). For some reason I was never a fan of Scrabble or Cluedo – too much unnecessary speculation resulting in frustration.


I liked Guess Who, although I didn’t have my own version and it took me a while to work out the right questions to ask. (“Is it third from the left in the second front row?”) I had a game called Headache which I loved. I used to draw up tournaments between all my cuddly toys (which went from group stages to knock out rounds) and play it for hours in my bedroom. I think it was the Pop-o-matic bubble in the centre of the board that held most appeal.

I went through a cards phase as a teenager, although I didn’t really know any games except gin rummy, whist and patience. I used to play Racing Demon with Our Gracious Hostess and her sister in a furious frenzy when I was meant to be doing my homework. It got pretty raucous and her parents tried to ban us from playing it, which meant that we just did it more – oh what fun we had ‘but at the time it seemed so bad...’ Well, we were hardly sniffing glue or nicking cars were we?

I had a couple of dolls, but mainly I liked their accessories. Sindy had a horse and a tent, so she could go riding or camping. When my sisters were at big school and I wasn’t yet, they very kindly made me a whole set of school books and a uniform for her – I think they made a hockey stick and PE kit as well – which was wonderful, but they wouldn’t actually play any games with her (or me, for that matter).

My brother ‘played’ with me – by which I mean that he threw my cuddly toys down the stairs (or out of the window) claiming they had found a secret passage. He would wait until I had gone down to collect them and returned upstairs again before he threw the next one down. It was hours of entertainment – for him.

I also remember a game in which we ‘raced’ cars along the hallway. This involved hurling the toy vehicles as far as we could along the carpet until they thudded into the skirting board (sorry, Dad). We raced them in pairs and, again, I drew up a knock-out tournament. The ambulance was pretty good, although the articulated lorry was crap, especially when it was carrying plastic pipes.

And then there was the stuff we did outdoors: playing football, shooting the netball, whacking a tennis ball against the side of the house, skipping (both ‘normal’ with a rope and French with knicker elastic), rollerskating along the footpath, and batting a shuttlecock back and forth with Our Gracious Hostess. We had favourite shuttlecocks and always tried harder with those ones so they could win the tournament – I think there may be a theme developing...

And I loved my bike. Mum always said ‘Stay where I can see you’ but she wasn’t actually watching. I rode my bike up and down the kerb a lot (sorry, Dad) and once Our Gracious Hostess rode hers into the river and I had to sneak home and find some dry clothes for her to change into while she hid in the bushes so her parents would never know. Yep, we were dangerous. Our man in London says we used to ride round and round the green cackling in a terrifying manner, but I don’t believe it (the cackling bit).

So, I guess if I had to sum it up (and I really should), this would be it.

5 Favourite Childhood ‘Toys’:
  1. Cuddly toys
  2. Books
  3. Board Games
  4. Cards
  5. The Great Outdoors