What have been
the connections between fine art and design? Choose one specific decade and the
design / designers must relate to your own pathway area and link their work/s
to relevant post-modern ideas and theories.
Shrigley’s name is hardly an unfamiliar one in the contemporary
art world. Since graduating from Glasgow School of Art in 1991 he has regularly
published books, exhibited in galleries, worked on magazine projects/
illustrations, and more recently has been dabbling in animation. In recent
years the growth of his popularity has accelerated even more so; and his work
has been applied to an expansive range of projects, catalogued as a daunting
record of achievements on his website. Shrigley is everywhere: t-shirts, album cover
art, sculptures, films, posters, post cards, plectrums, skateboards…(the list
goes on). He has even had a stint as a tattoo artist!
I first recall being introduced to his work
when I saw it being used in the opening animated sequence for the film Hallam Foe (2007). His trademark drawings and handwriting are also featured in [the
main protagonist] Hallam’s diaries. At the time, not being familiar with
Shrigley, I was unaware of the parallels between the character and Shrigley
himself. Hallam is a compulsive voyeur, addicted to spying on the people around
him and quietly judging. Is this a reflection of Shrigley? Perhaps the film
makers recognised something of what they wanted Hallam’s personality to be, in
him.
 |
| 1. |
 |
| 2. |
Shrigley’s work has a satirical quality that has allowed him
to transfer it from a personal, almost self-indulgent way of working, to a
commercially appealing array of what he reluctantly admits are ‘cartoons’. His
scribbly drawings arguably might fall into the category of illustration; aesthetically
at least. It is appealing in terms of its design; comparable to the modern
brand of illustrators whose work is almost diary-like; derived from their own
content, like an illustrated critique of their own life experience. People such
as Lizzy Stewart and Flora Rogers create personal booklets or ‘zines’; they are
not strictly illustrators; more like ‘authorstrators’. Likewise, the content of Shrigley’s pieces is
always taken from a personal viewpoint; one that seems to be blurted out
impulsively and compulsively, yet with darkly thoughtful undertones. It seems
that over the years he has earned the right to have his voice respected and
revered. His success as both a gallery and published artist has given him free
reign to let his opinionated work out to the world- a barrage of critical
social commentary and an illustrated display of witty humour that is in high
demand.
‘To quibble over whether Shrigley is a
‘fine artist’ or a cartoonist is just that: quibbling. He is, perhaps, neither-
rather he is the maker of meta-textual chapbooks that simultaneously drag us back
to a pre-literate past and flog us forward towards an unutterable future.’ (SELF,W)
The manner in which Shrigley addresses issues in his work
is, in a strange way, made diplomatic by the simple and innocent manner he
presents it. Journalists and critics have a tendency to describe Shrigley’s
work as harbouring morbid understatements, focusing on its reference to death
and the negatives of society (e.g. ‘[his] darkly comic doodles have been
compared to the scribbles of a serial killer’ (SOOKE, A)). Perhaps there is a reason for the seeming obsession
with attaching a dark edge to Shrigley. Maybe he would be the subject of
greater fascination with disturbing or odd personality traits. An old theory,
as Diderot proclaimed in 1763, is that ‘“Great artists are a bit
crack-brained.”’ (PATCHETT, T. p.8) Art
historians Rudolf and Margot Wittkower have also observed that the ancient
Greeks found artists interesting ‘largely for their eccentricities’ (p. 8), such as sculptor Apollodoros
whose temper problems led to him often smashing up his work. ‘Will we ever tire
of celebrating the dark side of genius?’ (p.
8) It seems that when viewing Shrigley’s work there is a temptation to
over-analyse it, perhaps conjuring up illusions about its depth that go beyond
what he has intended. When explaining himself, he seems to prefer to be
succinct; modestly unpretentious, without wallowing in the philosophy of his
art, which makes the speculation into darker meanings a little superfluous.
When prompted about the work’s undertones he has replied jokingly: ‘“I don’t
think I’m clinically depressed,” [he says] with a wry smile. “So I don’t know
where the darkness comes from.”’ (SOOKE,
A. p. 52)
Conceptualism is an important element in Shrigley’s art, and
it is his ideas that carry the distinctive style and give it relevance. In
disagreement with the critical perception of conceptual art being a ‘blank’ (as
asserted by his interviewer at the Brain Activity exhibit), he believes
‘”Conceptual art is honest and it’s a figurative painting that is a lie.”’ (YOUTUBE)Conceptual artists rely on the
clarity of their ideas, which are exposed to the world in a way that
traditional art is protected; hidden behind the skills of a talented
crafts-person or painter. The armour of a conceptual artist is their
confidence. Shrigley suggests ‘”one part arrogance to two parts self-confidence”’ (YOUTUBE). However, he does not class
himself as a strictly conceptual artist. He is a prolific drawer, “’sort of
over-productive”’ (YOUTUBE); more
frivolous than perhaps some of the stricter conceptualists.
It is largely through Shrigley’s conceptualism that he waves
the postmodern flag. An intrinsic part of his practise is constantly making
reference to the world, a thoughtful reflection on what he finds ridiculous or
has a curious obsession with. He likes to subvert the expected, and is
constantly mindful of conventions, so that he may challenge them. For example,
an animation exhibited in Brain Activity
is a film of a man sleeping. He explained that he was interested in making an
animation that almost went against the point (of showing images in motion) by
showing very little movement. A short clip of the film revealed a man sleeping,
slightly fidgeting, made alive by the grumbling sounds of his breathing.
Shrigley seemed enthralled by the reactions, curious to how people would
interpret it and try to explain what was going on- is he having a bad dream? Is
he dying? What is the reason for his limited movement? By turning the
expectation of an exciting, dynamic animation on its head, he potentially gives
it greater meaning, as perceived by its viewers.
‘[Postmodernists] embrace a much more cautious and limited
perspective on truth and knowledge, stressing that facts are simply
interpretations, that truth is not absolute but merely the construct of
individuals and groups, and that all knowledge
is mediated by culture and language.’ (BARRETT,
T. p. 31-32)
Shrigley’s work is strongly postmodern in this respect, as
its comprehension relies on an awareness of our western culture and
surroundings. For example, the following piece:
 |
| 3. |
We understand the humour because we are aware that in
English cities, pigeons are everywhere and can barely be told apart; therefore the
notion of someone looking for one is completely absurd.
Not all of Shrigley’s work is social commentary; much of it
seems to consist of imaginative little scenarios, thoughts that he found
amusing and recorded, or his opinion (whether it seems to be asserted urgently
or not). As I mentioned earlier, with this almost diary-like selection of
‘cartoons’, he can relate strongly to many modern illustrators in style and
intent.
Lizzy Stewart has published works which include the charming
book of ‘short stories in picture form’ (Stewart’s
official website) called Cardigan
Heart. Like Shrigley, her own thoughts or memories appear apparent. The
appeal of the work is due to its intimate nature, and its secrecy. Its
complexity may lie less in a viewer attempting to comprehend an intended
meaning, but more in the personal perception of the ambiguous meaning. The
viewers of this kind of work can relate to it on a personal level and identify
with it; it is accessible and relevant to people, as it has emotional content;
content which hasn’t been made intimidating with complex techniques or any illusions
of ‘grandness’.
 |
| 4.
Text on left reads: ‘ALL THE PEOPLE I SAW TODAY. I DIDN’T SEE YOU THOUGH.’
Text on right reads: ‘Ediburgh- I’m a jumbled as your mess of rooftops. I think it’s why we’re such good friends.’
|
 |
| 5. Text reads: ‘Two People. She would pull her sleeves down over her hands making her appear constantly self-conscious, which, of course, she was. It also meant that all her cardigans were mishapen. “The red-haired girl smiled at him from across the room. He would see that smile across countless rooms over the course of his life but there, that day, was the first.” She loved when writers jumped, momentarily, into the future. Three years from now she would cut off her hair during a bout of Jean-Seberg-fever. A decision she would hide with a hat for many months. (She would also be useless at parties her entire life.) She photographed all the lost gloves she found on fences. (And took the saddest ones home). He made mixtapes, still. He made them obsessively and lovingly for no one in particular. He didn’t like when strangers spoke to him on the train so would often pretend to be French; a plan that only backfired once. His beard hid most of the scar from when, aged eleven, he fell from a trampoline whilst trying to impress his older brother. He kept all his cinema tickets in a shoe box. Even the shit ones. He was always losing his gloves.' |
 |
| 6. |
Controversially, Shrigley himself has helped in speaking out
against illustrators who work in such an insular way. His art work (as seen
above) has been used recently in an article for the Creative Review by Lawrence Zeegen, who states ‘Illustration has become entrenched in navel-gazing and
self-authorship… it has withdrawn from society's big debates to focus on the
chit-chat of inner sanctum nothingness. It’s time for the profession to stop
pleasing itself and engage with the world outside.’ Perhaps Shrigley, then,
wouldn’t appreciate a comparison to these illustrators. It is difficult to
pigeon-hole someone whose work doesn’t seem to assert a decisive preference for
its purpose-after all, Shrigley’s work is used a lot in Merchandise, like the
work of illustrators who may not contribute towards ‘society’s big debates’.
However, Shrigley seems to have respect for all classifications of ‘artist’ and
is certainly not afraid to explore them himself, blurring boundaries as he
goes, constantly challenging his art to
oppose itself: ‘"naive/sophisticated;
whole/part; framed/unconstrained; to scale/in perspective;
naturalism/fantasy"…To which one can add, among other things: funny/not
funny.’ (LEZARD, N )
In conclusion, it is safe to say that
Shrigley’s work, whether he likes it or not, does bridge the gap between fine
art and design, increasingly so as his popularity grows. His sharp awareness of
our postmodern, contemporary culture informs his practise and becomes part of
it. Hopefully it can be anticipated that he will continue to be unstoppably
prolific.
Bibliography
Articles
LEZARD, N. (2012) David Shrigley: One of the cleverest,
funniest conceptual artists. The Guardian,
[online] 27th January. Available at: http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2012/jan/27/david-shrigley-conceptual-artist.
[Accessed 23rd February 2012]
SOOKE, A. (2012) Madly Drawn. Telegraph Magazine, 28th January, p. 51-53
ZEEGEN, L. (2012) Where is the content? Where is
the comment? Creative Review. [online]28th February.
Available at: http://www.creativereview.co.uk/cr-blog/2012/february/where-is-the-content.
[Accessed 29th February,
2012]
Books
BARRETT, T. (2012) Criticizing Art/Understanding the Contemporary 3rd Edition. New
York: McGraw-Hill, McGraw-Hill Companies Inc.
FREELAND, C. (2001) But
is it art? New York: Oxford University Press.
SELF, W. (2010) Introduction
by Will Self.
In: SHRIGLEY, D. (2010) The
Essential David Shrigley. Edinburgh: Canongate Books Ltd.
SHRIGLEY, D. (2010) The
Essential David Shrigley. Edinburgh: Canongate Books Ltd.
STEWART, L. (no date) Cardigan
Heart. Self-published. Purchased at ‘Pick Me Up’ 2012, Somerset House,
London.
Films
Hallam Foe (2007, David Mackenzie, UK, 91 mins.)
Journals
PATCHETT, T. (1998) Most
Art Sucks- Five Years Of Coagula. California: Smart Art Press
Videos
David Shrigley ‘Brain Activity’. (2012) Youtube.
Available at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GqRlTT04sBU
[Accessed 23rd February 2012]
Websites
David Shrigley’s official website: www.davidshrigley.com
Lizzy Stewart’s official website: www.abouttoday.co.uk
Image List
1.& 2. Hallam Foe .[DVD
stills] (2007, David
Mackenzie, UK, 91 mins.)
3. SHRIGLEY, D. (1996). Lost. Available
at: http://davidshrigley.com/photo_htmpgs/lost_pidgeon.html
[Accessed 23rd February 2012]
4.&5. STEWART, L. (undated). Cardigan Heart (selected pages). Available at: http://www.abouttoday.co.uk/Cardigan-Heart
[Accessed 23rd February 2012]
6. SHRIGLEY, D.
(undated). Fight the Nothingness (photograph of work outside the Hayward
Gallery, London). Available at: http://www.creativereview.co.uk/cr-blog/2012/february/where-is-the-content
[Accessed 29th February 2012]
No comments:
Post a Comment