The COLOUR project (2013) started almost by accident when artist and curator Theresa Bruno was unable to attend a drawing workshop that Sarah Grace Harris was running. As an artist whose work is primarily concerned with found phenomenon, Theresa was particularly fascinated by the focus of the workshop, which was on drawing a collection of green objects using the same or similar coloured media. From then on Harris and Bruno bonded over a mutual love of drawing and more importantly, colour. And, after an initial drawing session, again centred on green objects, both artists noticed similarities between their divergent studio practices and saw the potential for fruitful collaboration.
Harris
and Bruno both examine the material world and explore our
relationship with the objective world of things to create a new level
of perceptual awareness of the subject / object relationship; for the
self and for others respectively.
In
this direction, their collaborative exploration of colour questions
how we engage with,
make sense of and categorise the material world. The project helped
elicit a heightened awareness of the subjective nature of colour
perception, as they and others began to argue about what hue or
saturation might constitute a particular colour. Likewise, the
process of categorisation also highlights both the arbitrary nature
of signification and the slippage between the signifier and the
signified; concepts Bruno explores in "Fruit Bowl Painting" (2010). The piece
uses alphabetically
appropriated paint colour samples named after fruit to create a
clinical colour chart and in doing so also brings to account the
cynical way in which consumption co-opts domestic discourse as a
means of commoditizing the feminine and in turn pacifying the voice
of women within patriarchal society.
Colour
is something that has been much maligned throughout the
male-dominated history of art. It has been derided as surplus to
requirements and somewhat frivolous within the disciplines of drawing
and sculpture. Indeed, since the Reformation, colour has been seen as
degenerative and vulgar; an abortion of the classical ideals of
purity of form. Moreover, this Protestant aesthetic is at the root of
Modernism. During his early travels, the Swiss architect and design
theorist Le Corbusier rejected the colourful world of the Orient for
the monochromy of the Acropolis. Upon seeing the Parthenon, he
denounces the decoration and chromatic frivolity of the Orient, which
he suggests were founded 'in a narcotic haze', and instead
champions the rationality, purity and cleanliness of white, arguing
that it 'is time to crusade for whitewash and Diogenes' (1998: 315).
The
irony, of course, is that classical architecture and the marble
sculptures that adorn it, would have originally been painted in
vibrant colours. Likewise, Henry VIII went to such great lengths to
remove all traces of colour from the churches and cathedrals of this
country that we now forget the role colour played in connoting the
opulence and power of the church over the peasants of a diocese. And,
to this day, colour has little place in the British aesthetic
sensibility. On a purely anecdotal level, when we visit the catholic
churches of continental Europe, their contents and décor fall into
the debased aesthetic category we know as kitsch.
The
colours
used in Medieval and Renaissance clothing indicating status, and thus
the most valuable dyes like reds and purples were the preserve of the
aristocracy
and of the church. Yet, like a Chinese whisper on the trade winds,
the semantics of colour in Western society have shifted from
masculine power to feminine disempowerment. For David Batchelor (2000),
colour has come to represent the irrational and the dangerous; its
image as 'feminine, oriental, cosmetic, infantile, vulgar',
proliferated endlessly (2000:71).
Throughout
the history of
Modernist art, colour has become a cipher for 'otherness':
insanity (Van Gogh), naivety
(Cézanne),
orientalism (Matisse), primitivism (Picasso). However, it is also
possible that this 'othering' of colour has been a way of
rehabilitating it as something substantive and not merely decorative.
As Batchelor suggests, colour simultaneously represents 'a lapse
into decadence and a recovery of innocence' (Ibid, 71).
Here colour becomes pure experience; that of a newborn child;
unmediated by the subjective self that is produced by language.
Further
to this,
Batchelor highlights the 'inadequacy of words' in representing
colour, suggesting that 'we reach outside of language with the help
of a gesture. We point, sample and show rather than say'. And in
doing so 'we expose the limits of our words' (Ibid, 85). So colour
becomes that which will always be other to the unified subject as it
can neither be truly named nor owned.
Yet
perhaps
it is colour’s intangible mysteriousness, which leads to its
marginalisation. Julia Kristeva (1982) makes the link between colour
and abjection. Likewise, Mikhail Bahktin opposes the unified,
self-contained form of classical sculpture with the grotesque body of
the Medieval peasant, in all its visceral brutality, baseness,
crudity, un-cleanliness and carnality. Colour’s "otherness"
gives it a "carnivalseque" power to undermine and challenge the
established symbolic order. Indeed, it plays an important role in the
Medieval carnival. The "fool king" or "king for a day" was
dressed in a harlequin mismatch of colours to symbolise chaos and
disorder – of social or symbolic order; of the mind? Further to
this, Batchelor, also suggests that bright colours bring to mind
court jesters and clowns and 'to be called colourful is to be
flattered and insulted at the same time' (Ibid, 67); a level of
ambivalence that is a prerequisite of the carnival.
Looking
back on the COLOUR project, one of the things that stands out
as important is
its use of domestic objects. Early on Harris and Bruno made the
decision to only use objects that they already had at home. This
again reinforces the notion of colour as both decorative and
feminine. However, in their choice of objects, Harris and Bruno have
highlighted one of the great tensions in art history: that
historically, the domestic space has been represented by men. This
also exposes a binary between masculine and feminine that is
reinforced by consumer discourse. While women nominally have
ownership of domestic space, it is men who have ownership of the
means of production. Here we see a duping of women into believing
that they are producing domestic space, when they are in fact merely
consuming it. The man as "bread winner" allows the women freedom to produce the domestic space; an act which becomes
nullified by its entwinement with masculine ownership: from the
designer to the husband who sanctions this wanton consumerism as a
means of satiating and pacifying the woman’s need for agency. What
Harris and Bruno do, however, is to rehabilitate ownership of the
domestic realm by taking these biographical items from their original
context and re-contextualising them as both familiar and alien. In
other words, by engaging with these objects in a heightened state of
aesthetic awareness, Harris and Bruno both reinforce their magical
power as personal fetish objects and imbue them with new mythologies
and meanings, which question that which we already know about them.
In
this sense, this project re-familiarises us with the meaning of art:
that through aesthetic and intellectual enquiry, we are able to see
things afresh and to break with habitual ways of seeing and being.
Ultimately we can only learn about colour through engaging with it;
through focused creative play. Therefore, it is perhaps best to view
the work produced so far as the start of an ongoing journey rather
than the end of one.
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