The first day I have been at home in the United Kingdom since visiting Milan for the first time for New Years Eve has been spectacular. My mama has recorded both Africa the new natural world series and Ripper Street i have had my induction in both programmes today. Firstly Africa is actually mind blowing it showed a giraffe fight and the recently discovered, worlds largest, underground lake. Divers have gone one hundred metres and still have no idea how deep it is, in volume it can encompass four Boeing Seven Four Seven jets back to back. Oh, and on top of that its located below the Kalahari desert and occupied primarily by completely blind catfish that are only found in that underground lake.
The programme is bewitching in its unbelievable content and imagery it makes you want to visit Africa one of the most impressive elements of episode one. Was the imagery of Rhinos socialising at a water hole shot with a brand new night time camera it shows a completely softer side to one of the most endangered animals on the planet. Ripper Street in contrast is a huge jump back onto the streets of Jack the Rippers London and focuses around the police force that works the streets of a violent decadent world. Its characters are extremely believable and the storyline is deep with subplots the separate narratives interweave and instantly grab your attention its a must watch that reinvents the crime drama. A BBC created time traveling wonder that encompasses some very evil forces that need defeating.
Traditionally art in a Non Space is strange, located in a weird unfamiliar void, we look into this empty warehouse. Beginning to imagine the silver metallic colours of a steel factory the cold hard shades of Sheffield’s industrial past. In a similar fashion we are presently confronted with the image of empty shops and office spaces, opening a door that used to be the entrance to a moment of consumption. But is now home to the burnt and scarred remains of modern capitalism’s use of colour one only has to look at a modern supermarket or a high street store to understand the marketization and appropriation of bright vibrant colours. In this use of colour as an aid for commercial gain, as a tool to catch the eye or place desire in our minds we have become nullified and perhaps can no longer trust colour to convey meaning.
Perhaps one could suggest that colour has lost its natural, archaic, or emotive place or value in the production of art we are all aware of artists who have used colour without fear and with confidence. There are many that can be grouped into the movements; Impressionism, Cubism, Expressionism, Futurism, and finally Conceptualism. From Van Gogh and Picasso to Klein and kapoor they have all negotiated colour in some way and articulated its relationship within their work. So why do none of us have a strong leaning or urge to use colour as a key component in art? Why do we find colour hard to explain, compared to other aspects, sections, and interest involved in the works construction?
History and construction are interesting notions when talking about colour, one gets this feeling that within the speed of technological change something in art practice also changed. Historically the dawn of technicolour could be seen as the birth or starting point for non physical colour, recently the internet and mobile devices have changed the landscape. behaviour such as blogging and this new found mobility for digital imagery. I believe has increased the critical environment just as in the speed in which advertising and products bombard individuals who arent interested in art. So In terms of documenting and showing work the modern artist has the added pressure of manipulating his work digitally so that it can be seen in the best light, the way it would be seen if you where to view it in a gallery. I find these questions hard to answer, has colour really changed? has the technological revolution transformed its visual importance? Can colour and light be separate? if so is one more physical, one more cognitive or psychologically relevant?
”’ Feeling through a certain quick instinct, which was almost a divination, that the secrets of art are best learned in secret, and that beauty, like wisdom, loves the lonely worshipper” – Oscar Wilde