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Line | Lisson Gallery | Curated by Drawing Room
22 January – 12 March 2016
A review by Fiona Grady
Splatters of paint, energetic explosions of tape, conceptual thoughts and scarred
landscapes: the current exhibition, ‘Line’, at Lisson Gallery, London considers the
singular mark in its broadest sense. Guest-curated by the excellent Drawing Room,
this exhibition invites you to see multiple interpretations around this theme through
the minds of fifteen artists either invited or represented by Lisson Gallery. The
work dates from the 1960s to the present; the artists have been selected for their
use of line and its ability to question the nature of drawing. The majority of the
work does not fall into the classic categorisation of the discipline of drawing,
although many of the artists connect with the idea of thinking through the hand.
These works are not based on paper; they expand beyond the two-dimensional plane
and instead address the medium as an activity or event, often as transitory moments.
‘Line’ displays a series of elegant and thought-provoking artworks that stretch the
viewer’s imagination and deepen the debate around where to position contemporary
drawing practice.
The exhibition begins from the street with Monika Grzymala’s Raumzeichnung (outside/inside),
an almost combusting installation created from over seven kilometres of clear Sellotape
and custom-made black masking tape. The piece spreads from the far corner of the
gallery to the main window, forming a mass of lines that not only link the outside
to the interior, but form a physical span of her own body. Her abstract intervention
in the gallery doubles up as a figurative method of portraiture, measuring her gestures
and movements through the vessel of tape. Alongside her piece is a photograph by
Tom Marioni: One Second Sculpture, which also acknowledges this sense of potential
energy. The image is a record of the artist releasing a tightly-coiled metal tape
measure into the air. As it flies through the blank space it straightens to create
a line; this is a key moment for the exhibition. By documenting this instance, Marioni
gives importance to the event of drawing a line.
Monika Grzymala, Raumzeichnung (outside/inside), 2016. 3,7 km black paper tape and
clear PP tape. Ephemeral site-specific installation. © Monika Grzymala; Courtesy
Lisson Gallery. Photography:Jack Hems
Tom Marioni, One Second Sculpture, 1969. Black and white photograph. Dimensions variable
© Tom Marioni; Courtesy Lisson Gallery. Photography:Jack Hems
Another rebel act comes in the form of Ceal Floyer’s Taking a Line for a Walk, in
which the out-of-control splashes of paint record the motion of a paint machine being
dragged up the stairs of the gallery to the first floor. Installed using a line-drawing
machine designed to mark sports fields, it appropriates industrial equipment and
denies it the conformity of its purpose. The tool cannot function in the usual manner
and the consequence is the loss of order. This piece is made at the instruction of
the artist, and presumably by an untrained technician, which only emphasises this
disorder. In this same exhibition is Wall Drawing 157 by Sol LeWitt, who also conceptualises
the act of drawing using instructions. His piece belongs to the Lisson Gallery and
has the pertinent connection of originally having been displayed here in 1971. The
idea behind this work resonates as strongly now as it ever did, questioning the ownership
of a line. Installation is communicated through a rule that can be attributed to
the artist only with his permission. This line is in its simplest form - a black
square with a red diagonal line cutting through the middle of it. Despite the minimalist
approach it uniquely holds the artist’s identity without ever having been touched
by him.
Ceal Floyer Taking a Line for a Walk 2008 Line making machine and water-based marking
paint on floor.Width of line: 12 cm, length: variable Width of line 4.7 in length
variable ed. 1 of 3+2 ap © Ceal Floyer Courtesy Lisson Gallery. Photography:Jack
Hems
Cutting into space and tucked away in the back corner of the gallery is a subtle
installation by Fred Sandback. Composed from four pieces of yellow yarn, the artist
silently delineates that pictorial plane with the boldness of line that, through
the change in tone cast by the shadows of the darkened back room, finds a way of
dividing and altering the architectural space. Adjacent to Sandback is an equally
quiet animation by Florian Pumhösl: Tract. Instead of affecting space, this work
references the manner in which a figure moves through space. With an acknowledgement
to notations of dance and the relationships of moving figures, the travelling line
rhythmically denotes movement.
©Copyright Patrick Morrissey and Clive Hancock All rights reserved.
Fred Sandback Untitled 1974 Yellow ochre wool 207 x 16.5 x 16.5 cm © Fred Sandback;
Courtesy Lisson Gallery. Photography:Jack Hems
The performing line is pushed further by Athanasios Argiana’s Song Machine 19 (the
length of a strand of your hair of the width of your arms, unfolded); this sculptural
piece prompts a physical reaction. The elegant steel structure, with a brass ribbon
resting upon it, holds photo-etched poetic phrases that express descriptive measurements
such as a strand of hair. At the opening night there was a performance in which two
actors with contrasting vocal registers read from the artwork, emphasising the musicality
of the piece. Even without the performance, there is something about this work that
draws its audience in, requesting interaction and movement, due to the layout of
words and the delicacy of the lines. It forms a neat partner to Victoria Haven’s
wall drawing: Potato, Potato, a loop in space that draws an extra dimension onto
the wall that could almost be jumped into. This paradoxical opening, through delicacy
of material, sensitivity of touch and decisive use of line, references a journey
and creates a metaphysical space.
Victoria Haven Potato/Potato, 2016. Paint and ink on tape on wall. Dimensions variable
© Victoria Haven; Courtesy Lisson Gallery. Photography: Jack Hems
Although many of the artworks suggest the potential energy of line, none are more
teasingly fixed than Maximillian Schubert’s Format L6-BR, a hinged stainless steel
wall structure. It blurs the parameters between drawing, painting and sculpture,
appearing in the formal style of a canvas yet with hinged corners. It draws the shape
of what a painting should look like, but with the implication of movement. However,
the brackets are fixed, and it is restricted to only falling into the shape it sits
in; unlike Tom Marioni’s piece, it won’t be activated. Jorinde Voigt is also selective
with the information she releases in her piece: BOTANIC CODE – Chelsea Physic Garden,
London, GB, April. From her series of sculptures documenting over a year’s-worth
of visits to botanical gardens around the world, she reduces her sensual experiences
to a series of colour-coded three-metre aluminium rods; these represent a walk through
each garden. The logic of this coding isn’t disclosed, encouraging the viewer to
compare and contrast each offering and attempt to understand the thought process
behind the self-imposed rules.
Jorinde Voigt BOTANIC CODE - Munich Botanical Garden (Nymphenburg), Munich, Germany,
November 2015, 2015 Aluminium, industrial © Jorinde Voigt; Courtesy Lisson Gallery.
Photography:Jack Hems
Another artist using line as a restriction is Susan Hiller; her Work in Progress
comprises the remnants of a series of canvases that the artist unpicked and reformed
into what she terms ‘doodles’. These pieces were created in front of an audience,
during a two-week performative residency at Matts Gallery. The act of ‘doing’ is
a social sculpture that acknowledges the stereotypes of women’s work by re-purposing
the canvases to become a craft. Using rope to paint a very different portrait is
Jonathon Monk’s Fallen. Monk plays with the question: “How long is a piece of string?”
In his case it’s his body height and has been transformed from a rope dropped to
the floor into a neon sculpture. As irreverent as it might seem on first glance,
this is a sly observation on authorship and chance.
Susan Hiller Work in Progress, 1980, thread from deconstructed painting © Susan Hiller;
Courtesy Lisson Gallery. Photography:Jack Hems
When discussing the themes of this exhibition, it is impossible to forget the seminal
artwork by Richard Long: A Line Made by Walking that will undoubtedly have influenced
several of the younger generation of artists displayed here. For ‘Line’ the piece
presented, A Four Day Walk (A Line of Ground 94 Miles Long), explores how to translate
and reduce an experience into a series of words that act as a memory. It is a subjective
form of documentation that focuses on the features of the land rather than the names
of the places explored. Julian Opie also chooses to represent his journeys through
the medium of drawing. His vinyl installation: Pine Forest 4 is an example of the
simple everyday language of line. With his ability to master and simplify structures
to basic line drawings he calls upon visual experience to active the sense of place;
the images are neither too distinctive nor too minimal, so that they manage to transport
you there.
Richard Long, Four Day Walk 1980. Vinyl text on wall, In situ dimensions variable
© Richard Long; Courtesy Lisson Gallery. Photography:Jack Hems
Finally, K. Yoland’s film and photographs, Border Land Other, are literal drawings
of the landscape of the USA / Mexico border. Appropriating red paper rolls, a material
commonly used by construction workers, Yoland highlights the man-made construction
of the border and its complex socio-political issues. The red paper appears as a
scar in the landscape. Her work is a protest against the idea of ownership; by mapping
something that is not physically present but is controlled, she questions the use
of line as a definition. This exhibition is an excellent overview of many varied
uses of line and of artists’ attempts to create a tangible form with line. What resonates
throughout is the sense that form doesn’t need to be contained within a piece of
paper or canvas; there is a wider context to be explored. Line can be used to recall
memories, escape a setting, act as a code or represent an individual; in the best
use it pushes boundaries.
K. Yoland Red Line through Dump (Marfa, West Texas), 2013 Archival ink jet print
75.2 x 101.6 cm 29 5/8 x 40 in © K. Yoland; Courtesy Lisson Gallery. Photography:Jack
Hems
