Archives for posts with tag: Art gallery

‘In Sheep’s Clothing’ by Martin Puryear

Space and material are prominent in Martin Puryear’s peaceful retrospective at Parasol Unit. Brunhild is an enclosed space, but nonetheless conveys openness through the broad curves of its wooden trellis structure. In Sheep’s Clothing and Big Phrygian by contrast have a very solid presence, strong in the space they occupy. In Sheep’s Clothing is hollow, I peered into the small opening and inhaled the fragrance of the pine. Many of the sculptures are wooden, and the iron works look as if they were originally carved in wood then cast. The works generally feel very organic, all handmade with respect for the materials. Puryear’s work respects and reveres craftsmanship and the natural.

‘Brunhild’ by Martin Puryear

The sculptures are motionless but there is a sense of air and movement nonetheless. Night Watch is like a section of a field, long grasses blown in the wind. The inflated shape of Brunhild suggests a breeze. Where Brunhild breathes, however, The Load tightens and encases, hard to place within the exhibition. It shares with Shackled, a heavy iron work, a recognition of human history. 

‘Shackled’ by Martin Puryear

Peacefulness is restored elsewhere with works like Cerulan, a near-perfect circle, almost meditative in its shape and colour.

‘Cerulean’ by Martin Puryear


While Happy Jack needs a bigger room to be fully appreciated, and Puryear’s prints feel hidden in the seperate gallery upstairs, the main galleries of Parasol Unit generally suit these works. It’s less like a white cube than it otherwise might have without the extension of the gallery into the green outside space. Perhaps it’s the presence of Puryear’s works – the outside is contained within them. 

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I like the wetness of Maisie Cousins’ work. The sexuality is so obvious it screams at you. A wet finger enters the petals of a flower, with red flecks like menstrual blood. Viscous, clear liquid dripping off orchids. Turgid flower stems. Cousins doesn’t fuck about.

It’s also gross, with slugs crawling over boobs and ants over fruit, and a video of a millipede squirming around over roses. Bodily-fluid-esque slime mixes with snail slime. The natural grossness that exists in sex is addressed in Cousins’ photographs.

The erect stems of flowers drip with sex much more than the nudes do. A hypersexualised flower next to a natural bum is refreshing – you can see hair where hair normally grows.

The show is pretty and femme. The flowers are pink and white, the walls are bubblegum, and the floor is gold mirror – a little sexy disco grotto. I could see up my own skirt in the reflection from the floor and I spent some time trying to make my own bum mimic the massive bum print on the wall (I had the gallery to myself). I don’t know if that was what the gold mirror floor was there for but I enjoyed it.

Cousins’ work feels very cool. The show is like walking into an uber-femme zine. I am looking forward to seeing how her practice develops as trends change and I suspect she will be leading the charge.