Every Portrait Tells a Story
The
first
Glasgow International Festival of Contemporary
Art
took place from the 21st
April to May 2nd
2005 across 29 venues throughout the city. Curated
by Francis McKee, the event was billed as the first
to celebrate and promote the legendary Glaswegian
art scene on home ground. It showed over 150
artists, mostly Scottish, but also featured
international crowd-pleasing collections never
before shown in the UK.
‘When the Sun Goes Down,’ (Glasgow Print Studios)
was a celebrated highlight with autonomous (but
brilliantly combined) Jake + Dinos Chapman and
Douglas Gordon. The Chapman brothers cast their
special sinister shadow over a series of children’s
colouring books and Gordon’s simple films depicting
one hand shaving the other were equally disturbing:
with less obvious reasons why.
Heading into off into the rain, I sought out the
smaller artist run spaces that make Glaswegian art
renown. At 64 Osbourne St., Smith/Stewart had
invested a derelict exhibition space with
theatrical tension that would have made Hitchcock
jump. In the Intermedia Gallery, I found artist
Robb Mitchell sitting alone within a large
sculpture designed to mix people within the
exhibition space. In the next room an intriguing
contraption of contact mikes, reel to reel
recorders (and a sandwich wrapper) by artist Steve
Dickie was obviously not working.
It wasn’t the only casualty of the festival. One of
the few public, site-specific installations, a huge
self-portrait head by artist Alex Frost, had been
vandalised. While sympathetic towards the artist, I
couldn’t help feeling it was both inevitable, and
an apt representation of the ‘site-specific’
‘Glasgow’ that this festival was so intent on
celebrating. By enlisting the help of CCTV,
reporting the story of this head’s nightly
adventures would have made a much more interesting
site-specific artwork.
On the whole, the smaller galleries were
interesting and quiet, as usual. Frequently,
artworks still shared floor space with crates of
empty beer bottles left over from the opening.
While it is possible that I had missed the most
important celebration of Glasgow art ever by not
making the opening, the casualness of the
artist-run spaces gave the impression there was
little happening in here that would not have been
happening anyway. It is just that now something had
finally noticed that it was happening, and decided
to celebrate internationally on their behalf.
