Artists

David Kefford

David seemed so shy when I first met him. Despite what people say, I think his work retains this quality. Recent pieces have the appearance of things left behind by a benevolent intruder. I’m not quite sure I want to know what has been going on but there is an intriguing tenderness and poise to these domestic gifts. Meanwhile David has stolen away like a lover in the night.

Hayley Lock

In Hauser’s Memory (1968) Curt Siodmak describes  the struggle between two minds when a research scientist injects the memory of an East German defector into his brain. Soon we learn that the defector has an unknown agenda, pushing his host towards a terrible end. Similarly there is often a feeling in Lock’s work that it is being somehow invaded by another presence, pushed in directions not quite under her control. Recently she has begun experimenting with hypnosis which, in my opinion, can only lead to trouble.

Jamie Clements

Jamie Clements lives in quiet isolation in the woods. You will not find his work online.  His drawings and sculptures are made, destroyed and remade and over pre twentieth century periods of time. His work displays a Pre-Raphaelite sensibility combined with a fanboy love for He-Man and Krull.

 Justine Moss

In the art world the word “craft” has, at times, lived in parallel to “nigger”, although to be honest, sometimes the former makes the audience more uncomfortable than the latter. In 1973 Voloshinov referred to the multi-accentuality of the sign – the potential for multiple interpretations of the same sign according to particular contexts. Stuart Hall later picked up on this to explain the use of “nigger” by rap artists in the 80s. In the same way as “nigger” came to mean something different in the hands of black artists a rehabilitation of craft seems to be occurring in the art world. Justine Moss says she makes “lady craft” without inflection. It is straight forward, just that.

Malcolm Moseley

For Sporty Types we asked Malcolm Moseley to present his figurative drawings of sportsmen. More often known for his abstract paintings, these drawings are seldom seen unless you peer over the artist’s shoulder. In fact it was doing just this that I realised something strange about Malcolm’s approach to figuration. He was standing on Felixstowe beach looking out to sea intensely working on a drawing of NewYork’s skyline. I soon learned to keep an eye on what he was up to and have since observed him drawing vases while watching a piece of Chinese video art (no pots in sight) and recreating the canopy of Amsterdam’s botanical garden while standing in front of a still life of vases and bottles. One thing we can be certain of is that these drawings of footballers and boxers were more likely drawn at a local dog show or in the cinema than pitch side. Recently I spoke to Malcolm about his boxers and he told me that they come from a time when he would listen to fights on the radio with his father, their closest era together. There is a sense of dislocation in Malcolm, like Vonnegut’s Billy Pilgrim, he is unfixed in time.

(Alex Pearl, 2017)

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