She’s nine-foot tall, with Barbie-doll legs, a severe bob and big, big eyes that sometimes blink with a satisfying mechanical clunk. Her ‘skin’ is alabaster white and shiny, and there is only a hint of a pubis. Hairless, of course. She stands in the middle of Fabrica gallery (a deconsecrated Regency church in central Brighton). Easels and paper are set up around the space – we are invited into this ‘life drawing’ class to draw not from life but from a caricature of life.
Which is a very interesting idea – the brainchild of artist David Shrigley, who is guest director of Brighton Festival 2018. What is especially interesting, looking at the images on the wall of drawings done by previous gallery-goers, is that it is not necessarily obvious that the model for these images is a giant doll. Some representations are indeed doll-like – but that could also happen were the model to have been a live woman. Some are a Cubist echo of Picasso’s deconstructions of the female form. Some have softened and humanised the plastic model, making the final image look more ‘real’ and womanly. Some have gone the other way, turning her into a Marvel or Manga comic heroine. Some have taken the opportunity to make a humorous or political statement (almost Shrigley style, we could say). There is one drawing that places a knife in the left hand behind the model’s back, one that covers her in tattoos, and more than one that gives her underarm or pubic hair.
The act of drawing brings up so many different things. I’m always happy to draw – cartoonish doodler is my default mode when armed with a pencil. Some people find the act distressing – ‘I can’t draw!’ is a common cry – so they won’t be drawn in, preferring to just enjoy looking at other people’s drawings. Some people grit their teeth and do it anyway, relieved that they’ve overcome their feelings of failure. Some are ardent amateur artists delighted to be offered the opportunity to draw in public, in some cases bringing their own art materials, and settle in for the long haul.
What happens to all these drawings? They are packed up and sent on to the next gallery, an invigilator tells me. Having work on the walls from day one encourages otherwise reluctant participants to give it a go. Not that reticence was much of an issue in Brighton, she adds wryly.
Life Model II is a delightfully interactive and engaging artwork that provokes all sorts of thoughts about the nature of reality and representation. In making their representation of the model, spectators become artists, and enter into a creative response to the artist’s provocation, offering interpretations, criticisms or questions in their drawn replies.
Other Shrigley works in the festival include Problem in Brighton, commissioned by the festival, and written by Shrigley in collaboration with musician/composer Lee Baker. It is described as an ‘alt-rock/pop pantomime’, which is stretching definitions a bit. It’s a comedy music gig by a put-together band which includes Baker himself, actor/musicians Pauline Knowles and Gavin Mitchell (who have previously worked with David Shrigley), and physical theatre supremo Stephan Kreiss from Spymonkey.
Stars of the show are the gorgeous custom-made wonky guitars, commissioned by Shrigley – they were drawn in his style, a hotch-potch of erratic shapes with just one string instead of the usual tally of six, and a luthier, Tom Harrup, made them following the designs as closely as he could. The result is a wonderfully eccentric line-up of bespoke instruments cum artworks.
The show starts promisingly with the seven band-members standing in a line playing the guitars, which is a strong visual image and sonically interesting. Then, one leaves to play drums, and we are into a sub-Jean Genie rock and roll riff. And so it goes. Another band member puts down his guitar to play keyboards, and the whole thing has descended into a pretty regular rock gig, featuring songs with comic lyrics illustrated with a minimal amount of physical action and visual images. ‘Bring ear plugs’ the publicity says, but that’s hardly necessary, it’s pretty tame stuff – after that interesting first musical moment, most of what follows is a rehashing of rock, pop and punk cliches. Maybe that’s the point, but it feels like a lost opportunity to do something more interesting musically.
I’m not a great fan of comedy bands, so probably not the ideal audience member for this show, but there are a few memorable moments. A fast and furious song that reminds me of punk surrealists Wire consists of the band all shouting ‘Michael Gove’ non-stop, then upping the ante to shout ‘Jacob Rees-Mogg’ even louder and faster. It’s ludicrous, and genuinely funny. There is a also a good visual to go with it – images of Gove and Rees-Mogg projected on the backwall screen. Which makes a change from just looking at the word ‘Problem’ illuminated in different lighting colours. Stephan Kreiss really comes into his own on Mother, You Can’t Be in the Band which relates (in his endearing Austrian accent) the angst-ridden and desperate tale of his mother’s bid to be the drummer in the band. By contrast, Pauline Knowles gives us numerous gently funny poetic texts that have a hint of Ivor Cutler’s ditties (or perhaps that association is just because it’s whimsical spoken word in a Scottish accent?). Humour is a very personal thing, and although I like much of Shrigley’s work, this show just doesn’t ring my bell. But the main problem with Problem is that the music is just so mainstream and unchallenging. I’m sorry David, when it comes to artists forming rock bands, Martin Creed does it better.
But the guitars are wonderful – there is that.
Life Model II is at Fabrica, Brighton 14 April to 28 May 2018.
Problem in Brighton is at The Old Market, Hove, 10–12 May 2018.
David Shrigley is guest director of Brighton Festival 2018, which runs 5–27 May. For details of all shows and events, see www.brightonfestival.org