Londontown 2: Art about Art

Written by S. Hargis

There’s a lot of art about ‘Art’; questioning how we exhibit, consider and experience it as the definitions mutate and reform along the way. London-based artists’ are good for this, perhaps even a little too good, incessantly picking the freshly formed scabs across the creative landscape. I think they really feel the weight of art history over here, and a certain sense of responsibility to jump the fences.

Damien Hirst's 'straight to auction' move, for example, was a rather bloated self fulfilling statement about the business of art. Indeed, work created to contest the status quo generally employs a ‘two fingers up’ attitude. This, however, cannot be said for my new favourite ground breaker Jasper Joffe. His revolution is a contemplative one, a re-structuring where the focus lies on creating something new, not destroying something old.

Jasper is a tall somewhat unkempt looking man with a fairly crap website and some questionable painting skills, but he's made significant waves in the art circuit for his innovative exhibitions. In 2003 he made 72 paintings in 72 hours at the Brno Contemporary Art Museum. The third exhibition of its kind by Joffe, this feat of artistic stamina challenged the conventions of the painting process. To my mind, this simple and eloquent act provided an artificial atmosphere enabling Joffe to ape the stereotypical painter; desperate, manic, prolific and sleep deprived. What fascinated me most about this rigorous ordeal Joffe elected himself into was the opportunity it enforced to dig deep into the subconscious. By the 64th hour it must have been pretty much thought to canvas, a fascinating foray into authenticity of expression.

I attended the opening of Joffe’s 'Sale of a Lifetime' at Idea Generation Gallery last July. Having recently turned 33, Jasper had left his gallery, been left by his girlfriend and decided to sell off everything he owned exhibition-style in a cathartic act of rebirth. Well aware of the religious numerical significance, he divided his possessions into 33 lots for £3,333 each. The goal was to be left with only his wallet, phone and the clothes on his back. As the public rifled through his effects, from paintings and family photo albums to a rather impressive vintage teddy-bear collection, you couldn't help but appreciate what an amazing 'piece' the exhibition was. He was selling the very threads of his existence, items unintended for public perusal being hungrily fingered through and 'appreciated'. This ‘selling out’ mused on the commodification of an artists’ mark on the world. Again I was left grinning at the perfectly formed questions raised about what exactly constitutes artwork.

I was present at the Oct '09 opening of Joffe's brainchild 'The Free Art Fair', a continuation of an annual project designed in contention against the 'Frieze' and 'Zoo' art fairs held annually in London. Likened by a fond friend of mine to 'art malls', these bombastic events take all the thinking and effort out of appreciating art as all the biggest and best known galleries come to one venue to exhibit their chosen wares.

Joffe's Free Art Fair involves leading artists, including himself, creating freedom themed works and giving them away for free. All aspects of the fair are donated and everyone is given the chance to own a piece of original artwork. This year the event, held at the Barbican Centre, involved 50 artists and had hundreds of would-be collectors applying for one piece they genuinely admired. At the end of the exhibition names were drawn at random and all the works were given away. Members of the public walked away with artwork worth tens of thousands of pounds, a generous way of saying that 'art is worth more than money' and alleviating the alienation felt by artists and public alike due to the current commercialism of creativity.

So, Joffe has become my new favourite artist, and what fascinates me most about this is that I hate his paintings. Laugh not, to my taste they are crude and lack all eloquence to the extent that I don't care if being brutal, rough and ugly is their point. However, I like this fact immensely as again Joffe has me smiling as I consider the irrelevance of his actual work to my appreciation of his art. I mean the guy could have painted ANYTHING, it wouldn't have made a difference. I am enamoured with Joffe’s actions. His exhibitions are as progressive, elegant and gestural as any half decent Schiele.

How very unlike me, how very postmodern, my favourite artist this autumn has been someone whose artwork I dislike immensely.

Top five tips for being a great postmodern artist:

5: Get an Ouroboros tattoo.
4: Write reviews about your exhibitions before you start making the work.
3: Set your watch to flash 00:00
2: Paint a portrait of yourself painting a portrait of yourself painting a portrait of yourself.
1: Paint that portrait badly.
S Hargis
artintowords.com
jasperjoffe.com | freeartfair.com | worldwidereview.com