CLOSING THE GAP EXHIBITION
BY MAREE MILLS, FEBRUARY 2011
PRINTMAKING AS A SOCIAL COMMENT : HISTORICAL CONTINUUM
Etching: Strong acid cuts into an unprotected metal surface allowing wiped on ink to be captured and transferred. Aquatint: Rosin is distribuited to create an even ground. Protected areas are varnished and the metal plate is put into acid, as for etching. A repeat of this process provides variation in tone. Drypoint: Incised lines are crated without acid by drawing directly on the metal plate with a sharp needle. Sugar Lift – Sugar solution is painted on before varnish. Warm water removes it before the acid bath. |
Anthony Davies is intimately connected to the tradition of printmaking. His work recalls the European men who turned the printing press into a tool for the production of fine art. In particular, the Frenchman Honore Daumier (1808-1879) is relevant. His lithographs were social commentary, often focusing on political life. He was also interested in the fate of the common man, and these collective concerns emerge nearly two centuries later in limited edition fine art prints created by Davies, whose recent body of work investigates the goings on in Aotearoa New Zealand.
Daumier was also extremely prolific and produced over 4,000 lithographs, perhaps implanting a work ethic for the professional practice that Davies embraces. He feels that printmakers have suffered a kind of amateurism here in New Zealand, often taught in hobby classes as an interesting craft, an aside to the serious business of making art. Davies sees himself as a professional and defines this as someone who has longevity of practice, works in series, but more interestingly, makes work that is meaningful in that it conveys ideas. Both series presented in this exhibition celebrate a return to the basic techniques of classical intaglio printmaking: etching, aquatint, dry point and sugar lift. Having confidence with tools and processes allows the printmaker to make appropriate decisions for a language of mark-making. Direct blackness of a dry-point incision, or the soft gradients of aquatint all perform together to deliver Anthony Davies’ narrative. These techniques need proofing and a concentrated focus of time. When one work dries another is being worked on and has a dialogue with the next. A series emerges from the process itself. |
Davies diverged from his formal art education at the Royal College of Art during the seventies in London, where the decorative as well as narrative were unfashionable. These days a convergence of pictorial forms in popular culture sophisticated processing of multiple meanings. Davies says Graphic Design and image technology has given a lot to printmakers, and sees it as a continuation of the medium. In the same way he enjoyed the POP ART movement because of its populist voice, and move to take art to the street, Davies finds his inspiration literally out on the street.
“Belonging is so important. It’s uppermost in my mind, my whole work is about my identity. Events that have occupied me from the seventies and in my lifetime are important. It’s about survival and fulfilling my ambitons as an artist.”
the outsider as observer
Davies (a non driver) takes the bus from his suburb Aramoho, into Whanganui. He shares the journey with others not engaged in the grip of Kiwi car culture. He enjoys observing what’s going on in the street. During his journey he says the scenarios are all there, like the British playwright Pinter, daily routines are revealed. It’s a reality he feels many New Zealanders are not seeing.
“I want people to think about how other people live, how they exist. People should be aware of what’s going on in the world”
Davies has the radio on while working. He listens to the voice of the popular and is incredulous at the ambivalent messages we receive. ‘Don’t buy houses, save and pay off the mortgage, property is the only answer, spend to get us out of recession!’. He says that as an immigrant to New Zealand he has noticed that this contradictory nature in New Zealand psyche has a long history. |
Harold Pinter (1930-2008) Was a prolific British playwright/screenwriter who produced work about identity, social and left-wing politics. |
Arriving at the age of 48 to the so-called ‘jewel in the South Pacific’, he was surprised to see another side of the national lifestyle everyone was talking about and moving here for. Fascinated in the ideas people have of New Zealand and about what it means to be a New Zealander, he sees identity as crucial, and talks freely about what make up his own.
“I’m trying to keep it simple, but the ideas I’m trying to talk about are very complex.”
“I’m trying to keep it simple, but the ideas I’m trying to talk about are very complex.”
MEDIA PIRATE
The Media provides plenty of ‘survival stories’ for Davies. He collects images from newspapers and magazines, knowing that one day he will fish through them looking for the right one, a protagonist to play out an action in his creation. He is a storyteller constructing visual narrative by re-contextualizing the images around us.
National media events themselves have been captured in Davies Aotearoa, 2008-10 series, and presented to us in collage form or cinematic-like still frame, reminding the audience of the emotion they felt at the time. The characters in these events are iconised by Davies in order to encourage viewers to explore the wider narrative their actions have elicited. Two high profile personalities who fell from grace for example, were perfect candidates for Davies’ inquisitive eye.
Tony Veitch, a celebrated sports journalist, fell from public grace after admitting to a horrific assault of his girlfriend. He brought domestic violence to the New Zealand foreground, in a way it hadn’t been profiled before. Initially settling ‘out of court’, the New Zealand public grew collectively outraged to discover he was able to evade the consequences of his action. In Davies’ image, the media frenzy erupts, resulting in a very ‘public prosecution’. The theme of media as judge and jury has had a continued resonance for the media pirate. Similarly, Samoan Member of Parliament Taito Phillip Field shocked members of his party when he was charged with bribery and corruption. A dismayed nation learned he ‘employed’ immigrants in exchange for promises of residency. This was a case of ‘other’ exploiting ‘other’ and Davies lets us dwell on this image to consider that while we may have a national reputation for honesty, it leaves us wide open for smooth global operators of con artistry.
Large drypoints depict these social issues that Davies says gives art substance. The sheer facility of his drawing hand is evident here, as the marks are confidently committed to the surface. An intensity of blacks created by cross-hatching lines build intensity, adding to the aliveness and sense of movement. The frenzy of the stock exchange in his diptych in this series is a great example of how his chosen content lends itself to the drawing style of drypoint. Like the political cartoons of Daumier, Davies’ style is fresh and, because of the implicit narrative, always ‘current’.
National media events themselves have been captured in Davies Aotearoa, 2008-10 series, and presented to us in collage form or cinematic-like still frame, reminding the audience of the emotion they felt at the time. The characters in these events are iconised by Davies in order to encourage viewers to explore the wider narrative their actions have elicited. Two high profile personalities who fell from grace for example, were perfect candidates for Davies’ inquisitive eye.
Tony Veitch, a celebrated sports journalist, fell from public grace after admitting to a horrific assault of his girlfriend. He brought domestic violence to the New Zealand foreground, in a way it hadn’t been profiled before. Initially settling ‘out of court’, the New Zealand public grew collectively outraged to discover he was able to evade the consequences of his action. In Davies’ image, the media frenzy erupts, resulting in a very ‘public prosecution’. The theme of media as judge and jury has had a continued resonance for the media pirate. Similarly, Samoan Member of Parliament Taito Phillip Field shocked members of his party when he was charged with bribery and corruption. A dismayed nation learned he ‘employed’ immigrants in exchange for promises of residency. This was a case of ‘other’ exploiting ‘other’ and Davies lets us dwell on this image to consider that while we may have a national reputation for honesty, it leaves us wide open for smooth global operators of con artistry.
Large drypoints depict these social issues that Davies says gives art substance. The sheer facility of his drawing hand is evident here, as the marks are confidently committed to the surface. An intensity of blacks created by cross-hatching lines build intensity, adding to the aliveness and sense of movement. The frenzy of the stock exchange in his diptych in this series is a great example of how his chosen content lends itself to the drawing style of drypoint. Like the political cartoons of Daumier, Davies’ style is fresh and, because of the implicit narrative, always ‘current’.
CONTEMPORARY ART
The Aotearoa series hosts an organic red abstract form that dominates the images at distance, and defies the traditional pictorial convention. It is a pointer to the ‘contemporary’ in an aesthetic sense. The forms, while menacing also refer to the seductive world of animation and graphic design. Recognition of the relationship between contemporary reproductive media and traditional printmaking process, and a willingness to experiment is evident. While paying homage to other New Zealand artists like Mark Braunias, who have used similar devices, Davies’ shape at times contributes to the narrative.
A bottle-opener with balls dances over rock-concert mayhem. A red shape acts as logo over the shopping mall image. From a distance this bold symbolic language draws you in to view the spectacle in close up, and once there you are compelled to make other narrative connections. Davies doesn’t give us everything…he wants us to think.
A bottle-opener with balls dances over rock-concert mayhem. A red shape acts as logo over the shopping mall image. From a distance this bold symbolic language draws you in to view the spectacle in close up, and once there you are compelled to make other narrative connections. Davies doesn’t give us everything…he wants us to think.
Cinéma Vérite: In English this literally means truthful cinema. A documentary style that acknowledges the ‘recorder’ of the image, however uses natural techniques in a quest to depict objective reality. Nanook: Considered to be the first feature length silent ethnographic documentary filmed by Robert Flaherty in 1922. Nga Tuhoe Iwi are the paramount tribe of Te Urewera, a people who maintain their descent from Hinepukohurangi, the personification of mist. They are often referred to as ‘children of the mist’ Do It Yourself Marae: 2007 Qantas Media Award Winner Maori Television Series currently off air, this ‘make-over’ programme attempted a 10 year upgrade in 4 days. Turangawaewae: literally means “a place to stand” and usually refers to an ancestral home. |
documentaryThe Aotearoa series is also cinematic in the sense of observational documentary. An ‘elevated crane’ provides a panoramic aerial shot of a camping ground. Under the eye of God, or in this case the printmaker’s gaze, interchanges between campers are amplified in the micro climate. Like the goings-on in the bus trip from Aramoho, routines are exposed. The kiwi ‘getting away from it all holiday’ is actually getting right in it!
Travelling your eye around these very full frames, you come to realise Davies has a perverse sense of humour. His ‘wide shot’ of the shopping mall encourages us to laugh at inane consumer behaviour, and is a poke at the error of our ways. While he asserts that at the end of the day he is in the business of making pictures, pure and simple, there is no holding back with content. You could liken him to the Cinéma Vérite movement, where reality unfolds unobstructed in front of the lens. It is then up to us viewers to bring our own experience in order to read the many meanings possible. Davies agrees that he enjoys the documentary genre, more than the Hollywood blockbuster and his subject matter does lend itself to the ‘observational style’. Fascination for recording the indigenous or ‘other’ characterizes the birth of the genre. While Davies’ portrayal of Maori is no “Nanook of the North’ in the romantic sense, it clearly indicates his positioning. Davies presents a contemporary colonization process with his image of the Tuhoe people held under siege by police. Interrogated civilians on charges of terrorism caused local outrage and later national shame, at the abuse of police power. Interested in the visual depiction of power and rebellion, Davies presents adornment and costume to demarcate belonging as well as create disguise. A positive scene from D.I.Y Marae suggests the Maori people are returning to their Turangawaewae. Occupation of land is a continuation on previous themes regarding ownership and guardianship from disparate cultural paradigms. It is with his ‘outside gaze’ that these issues are made poignant, it’s European immigrant gaze that really wants to understand what’s happening here. When the average New Zealander immersed in day to day life stops to stand before this work, it requires us to reflect, to see our land and its people through his eyes. |
CLOSING THE GAP
Helen Clark’s Labour Government left this catch-phrase firmly implanted in the mind of New Zealanders when they lost the general election in 2008. A much touted programme to achieve wider social and income equity that proved to be an Achilles heel may continue to impede the healthy stride of the current government. Two years later headlines read “NZ Wealth Gap Among Worst” and “Social Problems Linked to Wealth Gap”. This reoccurring ‘spin’ based on the notion of ‘closing the gap’ between the haves and the have-nots, has motivated a new print series from Davies. He asks us to consider who resides in the gap with his poignant series of the same name.
A diptych approach with two plates is used. One square and the other a vertical banner, to create the overall landscape aspect ratio. Visually exploring the notion of divergence, his central image is punctuated by an observer, a single juxtaposed figure instead of the usual text aid to ‘read the image’. Printmaking processes also enable a tactile difference, and give us an emotive clud. The adjoining observer is created with sugar lift, which gives a seal or stamp-like quality indicating its narrative connection. The central image is created using built up aquatint tone.
As in the Aotearoa series, Davies presents topical contemporary issues. Close to home a young person leaps to their death in the Whanganui river, this act of defiance and escape, an alarming reminder that New Zealand sports horrifying statistics for youth suicide. To the side an angel appears, a cemetery statue we have seen before in Davies’ work representing the spiritual realm, or the conduit from this world to another. The bridge appears again with a tangle of metal, the remains of a car accident hanging in a bizarre sculpture. A legless onlooker clad inn now useless sports regalia, reminds us of the terrible consequence of bringing together the driving and drinking age in New Zealand. The considerable age gap between our youth and the elderly is cleverly portrayed with a posse of ‘Grey Power’ gathered for a community concert with maniacal teens battling on Playstation consoles above them. The onlooker to the right is aged and his forlorn posture suggests an inability to participate. He is the outsider grappling with the mediated digital language of youth. This is tough stuff! It’s not only the demographic gap that Davies asks us to inhabit. Economic and cultural devides are just as important. ‘Aramoho’ is a close look over the fence for Davies, and the gap is wide indeed. The home suburb depicts a very young Maori family standing directly under the clothes line, while it’s articles are innocently suspended by a tattooed arm of the ‘gang’ member. The arm is a kind of heavy cloud commenting on identity. One can’t help wondering at the irony of English Gothic script as a font that is prolifically used on Maori gang insignia, the British bulldog too nosing in the corner under the ‘Hawaiian Shaka’ hand signal. Originally a Pacific peace greeting, such collective action among a group of Maori youth is bound to instil wariness in the observer. Davies says while gangs are topical in Whanganui, he doesn’t find them threatening. |
Shaka: a hand sign originating in Hawaii as a gesture of friendliness, it is currently used in many contexts. |
There is however an underlying menace conveyed by this image. The hoodie-clad male turns his back on the family and marks his territory with a jet of urine providing yet another layer. There are multiple layers of meaning in this work.
Both the ‘Aotearoa’ series and ‘Closing the Gap’ converse about the here and now, and about missed lessons from the past. They depict a terrifying present and a most uncertain future. Is New Zealand really a country grappling with growing division, aspiring cultural identity, and at the mercy of consumer culture? Are we really who we want to be? Can we decide? Davies says, ‘Making art is about making decisions”. Perhaps we need the printmaker to frame these questions for us so that we can make some decisions too.
Both bodies of work indicate an artist whose practice requires huge energy and dogged commitment. His subject matter does not pander to consumer expectation of ‘art as beauty’ but seeks to remind us what it can mean to be an artist, to believe in your visual voice. Davies commands us to ‘stand in the gap’ and view how we survive, thus we assist the survival of this artist. We enable him to fulfil his ambitions, his dream to capture our minds, our deeper consciousness, and our hearts.
All quotes were taken from conversation with the artist 10/11/2010
Both the ‘Aotearoa’ series and ‘Closing the Gap’ converse about the here and now, and about missed lessons from the past. They depict a terrifying present and a most uncertain future. Is New Zealand really a country grappling with growing division, aspiring cultural identity, and at the mercy of consumer culture? Are we really who we want to be? Can we decide? Davies says, ‘Making art is about making decisions”. Perhaps we need the printmaker to frame these questions for us so that we can make some decisions too.
Both bodies of work indicate an artist whose practice requires huge energy and dogged commitment. His subject matter does not pander to consumer expectation of ‘art as beauty’ but seeks to remind us what it can mean to be an artist, to believe in your visual voice. Davies commands us to ‘stand in the gap’ and view how we survive, thus we assist the survival of this artist. We enable him to fulfil his ambitions, his dream to capture our minds, our deeper consciousness, and our hearts.
All quotes were taken from conversation with the artist 10/11/2010