The Public: Owamya?
In the Black Country “How are you?” is “How am you?” or rather “Owamya?”
We took our son Joel to The Black Country, to Sandwell General Hospital West Bromwich, for an A.C.L. operation, and waiting, we visited The Public. (It was famous in the UK when it was built, for being late and way over budget. No Public city is bad Public city, we’d heard of it and sought it out.)
It’s an art space and not an art space. they call it ” a creative, community, cultural and business space in the heart of West Bromwich…Sandwell – today one of the most deprived areas in the UK but with a long history of creativity, innovation and community pride which changed the world.”
There are exhibitions as well as interactive galleries:
Judith, one of the staff (she’s wonderful) showed us some of the exhibits, and explained some Black Country slang, using one of the interactive pieces (a fridge magnet type activity – all the interactive things reminded me of games and that reminded me of how much game and play is part of what ‘creativity’ means).
“Fust” is first and “bist” is been: “hows he bin?” “he bist fine” (?)
When I saw one of the words I couldn’t resist an homage to Barnett Newman (I continue to want to see abstract painting in art spaces)
Sorry, corny I know.
The exhibitions included Out of this Universe, featuring models, costumes and props from Dr Who, Star Wars, etc
In the Best Light: Maurice Broomfield, industrial photographs
and, The Art of Invention: From the Frank Cohen Collection, contemporary art including some paintings! (No abstract paintings though. Is it that because there are none in the Frank Cohen Collection? Perhaps it is because they are thought to be less relevant than figurative work? In the ‘about’ section of their website I read: “The Public also has a role in making the arts more accessible to a community which traditionally has low participation in the creative industries”. I would argue that abstraction is particularly relevant and accessible in this industrial context.)
The industrial photographs were magnificent. To me, they seemed to capture the hope and excitement of industry at the same time as its monotony and false promise. The images somehow looked both modern and dated at the same time. My pictures here don’t do the setting justice. Whilst the whole downstairs does have this pink colour pervading everything, here I didn’t perceive it the way the digital camera does. In fact, there was lots of daylight and the photographs looked great. These were also the nearest thing to abstract paintings.
The work from the Frank Cohen collection included some interesting sculpture
It was interesting (not witty) and I looked at it a lot. I got that the painterly marks could be sinister and associated the red with blood and the pink shapes with internal organs, possibly the wire from the boy’s microphone resembling intestines, or certainly something unpleasant. I felt like I should be able to work out why the eyes were obscured with an unpleasant red mark, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure if the fir-tree was growing or cut, a Christmas tree and maybe the coloured marks suggested that it was decorated. Lots to look at yet, in the end, I felt unsatisfied, like I wanted to find something in the paint to enjoy but found my enjoyment was repeatedly barred. I felt slightly sick. Perhaps that was intended. I didn’t like that experience very much. Though I did go back to the work again before we left… and I don’t always do that!
Another painting I didn’t like:
though again, I have been thinking about it since, so it must have done something. What I have found myself remembering is the bland grey ground on which the painted objects are placed, and working out how he achieved that with acrylic paint. The exhibition notes tell me that Canaday’s work is an example of the LA based practice called “Bad Painting“. What I thought was most bad (I mean it in a bad sense) was that again any enjoyment of the paint I may have hoped to experience was thwarted. I also had the impression that the artist gained no enjoyment in painting it.
Even though my wish to see abstract painting was unmet (painting has become a marginal activity it seems, and abstract painting even more so) I am glad I saw this work.
The Public is well worth a visit, even the cafe is reasonably priced, most unusual.
On leaving, we missed out on the tea-dance, mostly because we didn’t have our dance shoes with us (Joel was ages yet in recovery). Apparently as many as 100 people turn up to dance every other Wednesday afternoon, and being keen ballroom, latin and sequence dancers ourselves we would have enjoyed that too!