Seeing things differently: Wander through artists’ studios

Nothing makes me happier to go snooping around in an artist’s studio!

Upon entering, I gleed with curiosity while looking at the floor to ceiling of boxes, shelves, baskets, and drawers.  To a point that I kind of wanted to say: “Right, could you all just leave me here alone for a while.” 

Marie Kondo's dream or nightmare? 

Body parts for bats.

The wooden drawers were labelled “ears”, “body parts”, “face”, “claws and tendrils”.  "Deliciously Dexter like."  I thought.  But, of course, they were for constructing bats from dehydrated banana peels.  Not bloody body parts.  

Douglas White is a sculptor who reinvents the mundane.  He is that sort of person who would pick up any old rubbish from the ground, stare at it, play with it, experiment on it, then appropriately turn it into something familiar yet original.  Take the greyish blue wrinkled skin on the table.  Doug folded clay in such a way that it uncannily resembles the texture of a piece of elephant skin.   I touched it, but without actually touching an elephant, I couldn’t tell the difference.  

 A piece of elephant skin using clay and wires.  

Part of Nika's new work.  All will reveal in Brussels Gallery Weekend September 6 - 9, 2018

At the other end, Nika Neelova was working on her upcoming solo exhibition.  There were clay tentacles hung from the wall that will form part of her new work.  “They look like umbilical cords.”  “Maybe it’s mine!”  Nika said as a new parent.  

Moving away from grand sculptural installations, with their theatrical industrial look and feel, Nika's new work seemed tame.  “I work at a smaller scale now, having been through the pain of installing my old work for exhibitions.” 

Nika was precised in her philosophy behind her work.  She talked about Rhizome (Mille Plateaux), and how her ideas evolved and morphed and distilled into her work.   

A church was the next destination.  We walked through the narrow ‘70s corridor completed with window shutters to come to Guy Patton’s studio.  It was gloriously messy with splash of paints, paint tubes, bamboos, and a pair of curiously hanging ping pong paddles behind the door.  I must annoyed the hell out of Guy because I wanted to know more about his ping pong pastime.   

What's on the creative mind while playing ping pong? 

Guy's large-scale acrylic paintings are recorders of his creative process.  A reverse creative process in which Guy peels the paints off!  The result?  Exuberance.  Reminded me of my childhood trouble when I started peeling wall paper off our apartment wall.  I couldn't stop.  My mother was mad.