A good fair needs a combination of quirky or spectacular extras, good location, plus of course quality art in the main section. Add that the cool yet comfortable Citizen M hotel helped my mood, and Rotterdam delivered well – Paul Carey-Kent
Bosch: The Haywain Triptych, 1510-16 (detail)
Jan Schoonhoven: R 71 – 20, 1971
* though not without its issues around cost, attributions, withdrawn loans etc, as set out at http://theartnewspaper.com/news/news/prado-pulls-two-works-from-landmark-bosch-exhibition-/?utm_source=daily_feb15_2016&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=email_daily
Rotterdam is a dynamic background city, and the Van Nellefabriek factory – a modernist icon which swallows the fair easily enough – has the added advantage of giving work a characterful context to play against. That’s something artists don’t really have at Frieze, for example.
Greek-born Montreal based Valérie Kolakis had a solo booth (for London’s FOLD) which collapsed modernism by unbuilding elements of a house in quietly uncanny style. More strikingly, she had covered the entrance area’s extensive glass doors and windows with an intricate lace-like pattern of Vaseline. I say ‘strikingly’, but those who didn’t know the building may not have suspected unless they spotted a smeared section, so convincing was the way an aspect quite other had been slid onto the Van Nellefabriek. Whether noticed or not, I like how the entrant above has clothing transformed on pushing through the doors…
It’s hard not to enjoy Richard Woods’ sassy melding of art, design and architecture, and this mixture of old and new didn’t buck the trend. It included the seasoned Leaning Wood and Light Sculpture, 2011, a Dan Flavin rendered satisfyingly absurd; and the sappy wall painting Duck Weave, 2016, which jazzes up what Woods says is an ancient rush-based method of constructing houses, but is also bound to trigger an art association with cotton duck canvas. Either way, a tidy contrast to Leendert van der Vlugt’s highly rational building.
Pierre Derks at LhGWR, The Hague
Dutch video artist Pierre Derks navigates wittily between the personal and the collective as aspects of our identity construction through two main approaches. First, found scenes which fit his agenda, such as what I’m assured was the remarkable coincidence of how a passing party’s coats matched a less nuanced piece of modern architecture than the Van Nellefabriek’s (Here We Are Now #1, 2016 – still above); second, photographing the same scenes at different times and overlaying them so that, for example, commuters emerging from a subway feature in phone adverts behind them, or passers-by walk seamlessly between a quiet street and a protest march.
Indeed, much of the best work saw the artist, like van Liefland, put forward a distinctive view of the world, often with a focus on the mediation between human / technological and animal / natural. Bosch would have fitted right in, if you count God as technology instead of technology as God…
Perhaps the most eccentrically interesting stand was the Belgian Bram De Jonghe’s. A neighbouring gallerist told me she’d been pleased to find considerable greenery was to be introduced, and was disappointed to find that the substantial hedge in front of Billytown’s booth remained shrink-wrapped, in line with much of De Jonghe’s work (Untitled, 2016). Perhaps the artist was blocking off any rash short-term acquisition by hedge fund managers of the sculptures which he makes out of fired tar, alluringly shiny black shapes which retain slow motion liquid properties, and so will return to a pooled state in ten years or so.
David Jablonowski, a Dutch artist who examines the evolution of contemporary communication technologies in sculptures, videos, and installations, has moved into somewhat painterly territory in his new high-tech-meets-nature series ‘Replica’. Not, of course, that any paint is involved: computer-cut aluminium forms the iconic minimalist grid, on which what looks rather like a motherboard traps the chromatic flare of a parrot’s wings. Might this be the back of a computer revealing that the dreams of freedom once epitomised by flight have migrated to the virtual world? Or is there something more sinister in how beauty is pinned down here?
How come Finland has produced so many good photographers? Pentti Sammallahti (born Helsinki, 1950) has travelled widely to make landscape images which are often literally animated by the fleeting and humorous role of non-human presences. Most famously he’s used dogs (emphasised by William Wegman’s canine oeuvre being shown nearby) but the best images here set their scale and temporal atmosphere by means of avian punctuation – one was of two birds on a Houston sidewalk. Yet Sammallahti retains a particular affinity for the almost visible silence and cold of the north, as in my choice of silver gelatin print, in which it’s hard to resist the ridiculous impression that a balancing act is going on.
Paul Kooiker (born in Rotterdam itself in 1964) subverts the tiresome coding of sepia-tinted photography as nostalgic by using filters to make contemporary riffs on the form. His Berlin gallery showed 7 of the 66 triptychs which form his recent project and book Nude Animal Cigar. Each conjoins impersonal female art subject (voyeuristic, geometrically emphatic faceless nudes) with fully visible animal (much more engaging, taken in zoos) and personal if burnt-out male art maker (remnants of some the countless cigars Kooiker has smoked in the studio). The typology yokes genres to an effect which, absurd as it is, puts various possible contrasts and equivalences crisply into play.
The Finnish artist Mikko Rikala is nothing if not ambitious, his goal being ‘to understand the world beyond the rational mind’. Whether or not he succeeds, that leads him to make varied, thoughtful and elemental works: he covers a kilometre with meditative slowness by drawing it in 1,000 parallel one metre lines; has water write to the clouds; overlays the sea at different points to condense time into too-intricate waves (Water Equals Time, 2016, shown above); and makes a sculptural play on Venice as representing the paradox of wood holding up stone.
Margit Lukács (Amsterdam, 1973) and Persijn Broersen (Delft, 1974), who live and work between their two home cities, featured in the separate Projections film space with Establishing Eden. Referring to the shots used to establish a landscape location, and to New Zealand’s iconic role as a setting in recent cinematic history, Broersen & Lukács have reshot the original places, only to present them as moving collages of overlapping flatness which return the world-be-Eden to its status as illusion. The result is an effective new twist on the popular theme of how the mass media confuses reality and fiction.








