Friday, February 26, 2016

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

The Parallax View

The Parallax View
Alan Butler, curated by Niamh Brown

Ormston House, Limerick
12 December 2014 – 31 January 2015 

Review by Jim Ricks

As the end of Alan Butler's solo exhibition, The Parallax View, loomed, on impulse I bought a same-day return ticket from Dublin to Limerick. Up far earlier than usual to catch a 10 o'clock, and in a half sleep, half caffeinated delirium, I decided to perform. 

The performance took place on Twitter. I declared a very self-reflexive, so much meta, self-aware, double irony Live Tweeting of my v important trip that day. A few tweets in I declared the need for a hashtag. 


Curated by Niamh Brown, the show pairs Butler and the University of Limerick Art Collections (ULAC). Ormston House's press clearly describes the overall approach:

“In this exhibition, the artist interweaves pieces from the collections with new works that have been produced through the outsourcing of labour to individuals and apps online, at various stages of the creative process.”

From what I understand Brown constructed the plan and got both parties on board, then worked closely with Butler in the selection and production process. Srsly exciting stuff really. ULAC isn't something I previously knew anything about, although I'm not surprised at their existence. Butler's work is something I know a bit about. Old meets new, in actual fact.

From the installation, Internet Über Alles, 2012 at Rua Red.  Photo: Davey Moor.

But Alan Butler's work isn't something I'd find terribly easy to describe either. It is loud, colourful, borderline obnoxious, usually has some type of massive wall sticker installation, topical, current, often something is spinning, almost exclusively uses the internet to source information and often to produce results, is preoccupied with the cyber-political, and, I'd add, it is all done with a slightly jaded anarcho-comic bent to it all.

On Butler's website there is a single text which towards the end says this about his work:

작가의 작품들에서 인터넷이 가진 편재성은 그것이 개발국들에서 사는 우리의 삶 속에 편재함을 나타내고 있다. 인터넷 접속은 이제 전기나 흐르는 물처럼 산업과 일상 생활 모두에 필수적인 것으로 인식되고 있는데, 이에 대해 버틀러는 우리는 과연 실제로 우리가 생각하는 만큼 정보를 자유롭게 얻고 있는가를 묻고, 우리로 하여금 스스로 ‘그래서 이 많은 정보는 다 가져서 무얼 한단 말인가?’는 의문을 갖게 한다.

After several attempts to track down the English version (Butler suggested I enroll in evening Korean classes) Google told me Lane Booth [sic] of Temple Bar Gallery & Studios wrote the piece and that the above approximately means:

“With the ubiquity of the Internet in the work of the author shows that it also omnipresent in our lives living in developed countries are. The internet is now recognized as essential to both industry and daily life, like electricity or running water, so for Butler is actually asking whether we really free to use information gained as much as we think, makes us ourselves, so a lot of information You mean one gajyeoseo is doing? "is wondering.”

Aside from gajyeoseo, I get the gist. His work isn't about the internet, but an incidentally practical product of it.

The Parallax View is also the title of a 2006 Slavoj Žižek book. Žižek ambitiously tries to update dialectical materialism or at least lend it to contemporary politics theoretically. Both Butler and Žižek are referring to the effect that occurs when an object is viewed from different positions. Most commonly this term is used in photography, usually with a viewfinder camera at close range, to describe the gap between what the viewfinder sees and what the lens is capturing. Or with film/video, as the viewpoint moves from side to side, the objects in the distance appear to move more slowly than the objects close to the camera. 

There are other examples: in astronomy stars have different relationships to each other as the Earth moves in its orbit, but in general parallax is a difference in the apparent position of an object. It is this gap, this different perspective, that Butler is ultimately describing with his show. I think it can be further interpreted as a gap in time, highlighted through technology, with which the artist is playing.

Ormston House itself is an elegant showroom from another epoch. A central square column, a pier, rises to the lofty ceiling above. Mirrors adorn its sides. Large windows showcase the gallery off of one of central Limerick's main streets.

At the gallery entrance we are greeted by a desk and body behind it. A temporary wall has been built, partitioning the normally open and capacious space. It leads us through a short, narrow entrance passage. We know we are in an Alan Butler show because in this passage there is an inexplicably large wall mural sticker featuring piles of iPhone 4s. Only the backsides are revealed, perhaps hinting at the camera functionality of this ubiquitous device. A more traditionally sized digital print is hung on top (a Martin Parr remake it turns out). Much is happening in it, I am curious, so walk on into the main space.

He selected works from the ULAC I'm guessing for the anticipated political, visual, and, occasionally, personal potential in making his knock-offs. Thin banners drop from the ceiling. Historical paintings hang. Videos play. Sculptures spin. In the back corner, the curators curate next to a large space heater.

Pairing the dusty collection with new solutions available from sites like or by emailing a painting factory in China, Butler is making comparisons. A video collage based symbolically on a very Socialist Realism style painting, complete with glorified industry and presumable 'leaders' plays centrally. There is another video with tweets about Damien Hirst, a work he couldn't borrow. An Adobe Illustrator 'how to' YouTube video is placed aside its inspiration: a Hokusai print. Old Japanese Kimonos hang side-by-side 'all over' digitally printed t-shirts, rainbow covered in emojis. These clothing 'resemblances' are the biggest stretch in the show, and I don't think they work as artwork (although pretty damn cool just as t-shirts). 

A photo posted by Jim Ricks (@therealjimricks) on

The Siobhán Hapaska is one of the few contemporary pieces selected from ULAC. Its mixed materiality lends to interesting interpretations. The original has a stuffed bear(?) on the back of a clay reindeer, which bears a fuzzy puff-ball hat and a red nose. Butler 3D scanned it twice, once through a display case, and 3D printed it in a synthetic bronze plastic. He positions Hapaska's high on plinth some distance from the new versions. These spin, placed below eye level, and we are free to observe all sides easily. It is a study in distortion. Soft materials reconstructed as solids. Limitations in how the 3D scanner 'knew' the original are revealed in both takes.


But Butler's corner installation steals the show. Working from the same methodological premise, but with an encompassing exactitude. This piece TF;DG (Too Far; Didn't Go) summarises the entirety of the show's concept perfectly. Butler has installed one of his signature vinyl wall sticker pieces. Broad stripes of the Google colours of red, yellow, blue, and green ascend to the ceiling, the iconic Google Maps pin is placed in a rhythmic pattern forming a lurid wallpaper that wraps around the corner of the recessed gallery nook. 

Scattered across the Google field are a number of pairings, 13 to be exact or a total of 26 works. A painting of, almost exclusively, Dublin is paired with a watercolour, made in China, of a Google Maps screen grab of the same location. Taking landscape works of unknown historic or economic value and filtering them through Google's literal lens and then again through the hands and eyes of an anonymous factory worker (artisan?). The layers add up. The title has sarcastic bite (especially considering the fact that many of Butler's Dublin peers would have not made it to this Limerick exhibition). And it is an apt portrait of today, at least in the Developed/Post-Modern/First World: technology's screens provide a surrogate reality to the global privileged, and actual production of goods has moved to, and created a new reality for, the former/semi-colonial world.

The show is essentially an exploration of divergence through market exchange. And while through the constant comparisons and translations new contemporary 'accents' come through, it should be said, and just to be kinda critical, the selections of works in ULAC and the imitative responses Butler created seem repetitive and arbitrary at times.

The Parallax View was diverse and utilised heterogenous strategies for outsourcing and producing imitations from an interesting, under-resourced University collection. The overall visual style was immersive and invigorating. It was accessible in its use of popular references. The Parallax View conquers the unwieldy, glassy, and high ceiling-ed space of Ormston House. And significantly, it was fun, covering a range of mediums and solutions to the 'problem' Niamh Brown and Alan Butler set forth. 

The varied strategies to reproducing the collection knowingly yield flawed and foibled knock-offs, all filtered through the lens of Butler's outsourcing and political knowledge. It is cheap, crass, and cheeky, and I mean that in a good way. It is also the kind of idea that has legs and could go on forever, but I also hope it doesn't. 

Definitely not TF; and I Did Go. And I did very much enjoy my #triptoparallaxview.

Photos courtesy the artist and Ormston House unless otherwise indicated.

Thursday, April 2, 2015

Intervention to The Treaty Stone (It's a wrap)

Intervention to The Treaty Stone (It's a wrap)
Artist unknown

April 2015

Photos by Dave Upton

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Lacuna in Parallax

Lacuna in Parallax
Lucy McKenna
The Source, Thurles
12 September - 25 October 2014

by Jim Ricks

The thing about symmetry is that the beholder is positioned at the centre of the image”1


A train journey south towards Limerick on an overcast day brought me to Thurles, Co. Tipperary. Rising out of a wholly typical Irish place (and its pubs, takeaways, banks, butchers, Norman tower house, slow moving river, etc.) was the completely unexpected, substantial zinc-clad trapezoid edifice of The Source. Minus the apparently unsustainable cafe, it appears to be a rare exception to the prevalently mediocre Tiger-era county art centres.

Behind a massive sliding door lies a blacked out gallery. The lighting takes immediate significance. The artist, Lucy McKenna, created an atmospheric installation by way of a pragmatic stellar microcosm; tiny luminous points hovering individually in front of, or over each of her works.


The exception to this is the large sculptural piece titled Bridge. Light emanates from within the descending cylinder of golden metallic beads, installed centre stage. Perhaps it is a nod to Hollywood science fiction, a Star Trek transporter or even a  stargate. 

A golden disc projected through space and time, individual atoms of light held together through glimmering strings, it becomes the metaphorical sun. McKenna's show becomes heliocentric. And while I'm sure this is actually a symbolic reference to metaphysics or the Einstein-Rosen-bridge, I can't help but think this piece is largely decorative.

Taking varied, yet related circular forms, are a number of kaleidoscopic stargazing photos, all formally Hadron Collider-like, if you will. Some are wall mounted discs. Other sculptural ones are positioned on the floor. Collectively this visual presentation points to an underlying fascination with symmetric patterns occurring in nature, physics. The human intervention, repetition of these celestial 'shards', creates a sense of order and pattern, and, in particular the curved-bottom grounded constructions, recall baskets and bead work. The interstellar strung together.

Another prominent piece is We Didn'tMove, an 8mm to video transfer, which is projected high on the gallery's long wall. The footage of trees and flowers is filmed at Montpelier Hill in Dublin, a site of apparent frequent UFO sightings. A mirror effect is applied, and a layered, echoey voice-over recounts a story of a nocturnal invader. Although my first reaction was to cringe at a tale of real human abuse, no doubt the product of a post-Murphy-Report Ireland, the repeating narrative is ultimately of alien visitations.

The strongest works in the show, and what I would guess are the most involved, were exceptionally detailed pencil drawings of the cosmos. Four of them in total, McKenna explains on her website that “two of the works, Herschel and Rosetta were a collaboration with astronomer Nick Howes, wherein I drew some of his photographs of distant man-made spacecraft.” No doubt pieced together from square source photos, both are strangely pyramidal in shape. Stars streak across, activating them as the shapes become objects with cartoon motion lines. With its jagged base, it recalls the shape of the Stealth Bomber, or, equally, Carl Andre's corner metal triangle installations.

The other two painstakingly crafted drawings have this same shape, only removed like a missing piece of a puzzle. These, in contrast, are static. They are NGC 346 and LH 95, drawn from photos of of gaseous nebula from 'neighbouring' galaxies recorded from light traveling hundreds of thousands of years. The sense of time is heightened with McKenna's own investment of time. The dark matter of graphite is capable of holding the viewer. [Insert gravity pun here.]

This same shape is repeated thrice in a triptych, this time photographs clearly digitally stitched together from Google Maps imagery. These earthward looking images are local, coming from a period of research in the immediate area before the exhibition. All feature ring forts within a patchwork of towns, agricultural enclosures, and differing exposures, colour balances. 

Two strands of work in Lacuna in Parallax become distinct. One is with the artists research in Thurles around early Middle Age structures and looking downward on them through satellite photography. The other deals with looking upward, outward to the skies above. Both are connected by considering the passage of time. Distant star's light takes thousands, millions of years to arrive to Earth, emanating before our worldly ruins were even begun and visible only to us today. And how little we know about either.

Hand folded origami paper individually belted to the wall serve as the accompanying gallery text, Notes on Perception, Reality and Ringforts, while functioning also as installation. The (slightly difficult to read) text expounds a number of the artist's teleological musings and citations ranging from string theory, 'fairy forts', symmetry, kaleidoscopes, perception, time... It is essential to the exhibition, adding value to the works via McKenna's research.

Within the generous trapezoid gallery of The Source, the shape of McKenna's show is well rounded. She explores a number of themes within, from the local to the intergalactic, presenting them with polish, and handling the space adeptly through this multidisciplinary installation. Unfortunately, I feel the earthbound works on their own explore previously trodden territory. And those kaleidoscopic, from 'out of this world', are somewhat... distant. Both become background to the series of drawings, so deftly executed and gorgeous, manifested through a rare moment of collaborative focus between artist and scientist. 

Without focus and background, and ground for that matter, humankind has little way of understanding our own place within the biggest subject matter ever: the scale of the known universe.

1 From Notes on Perception, Reality and Ringforts.

Sunday, October 26, 2014



Shower of Kunst always welcomes submissions.

Shower of Kunst seeks to support artists and writers in developing new discourses around visual art in Ireland. Those which find some shared ground or agreement with our ethos are particularly encouraged.


Shower of Kunst is a critical online journal founded in 2009. We believe in developing a strong and healthy discourse and community in the Visual Arts. 

Recognising the vacuum that exists in Irish visual arts writing, our goal is to challenge the prevalent mode of art criticism. We place a strong emphasis on the political and embrace an approach to reviewing that is more akin to the academic critique. We are not interested in the default position of arts writing as essentially advertising copy for the artist and gallery, i.e. the conventional positive read of the artists intentions dressed loosely in philosophy. But instead offer a candid gaze that asks questions and makes suggestions.

What we publish:

Primarily reviews of art exhibitions in Ireland, but also international ones. We are open to opinion pieces, rebuttals to other writing, and responses to events that affect artists or our community. In fact we'd like to encourage it. We are looking for new content, so usually don't publish pieces that are already published, or are about to be. Look over the variety of previous articles on this site,

House style:

We appreciate an honest opinion. We think your insight and candor is going to be more important to the development of Irish Visual Art than just another well written piece. Of course getting both right is best.

We prefer pieces around 1500 words, although understand that this can vary in either direction if appropriate. Concision is hugely appreciated, so please try to be straight forward and to the point. Walk us through the show; assume we know nothing and literally re-view the exhibition. Feel free to make comparisons to other disciplines outside of art (movies, architecture, music, books, blogs, etc.).

We are open to new approaches, styles, and formats, especially those which utilise online tools, technologies, and potentials.

Technical guidelines:

• Use .doc or .odt format.

• Spellcheck before sending us anything.

• Italicise all titles of works.

• Use a serifed font like Times New Roman.

• Begin your article using the following template:

Show Title: subtitle

Artist, or Artists Names. Curated by a Curator

Venue or Location, City

1 – 15 Month 2016

Review by [Your Name]

Start of your article....

• If suitable, we will send you an edited version with a new file name (e.g. yourfile-edit1.doc). The feedback on your piece will be in comment form ( Corrections will be made to the text as needed for clarity. Please respond to the comments within the document and make changes directly to the text, before returning it back to us. Again with a correspondingly updated file name (e.g. yourfile-edit2.doc).

Application process:

Email your article or review to and we'll get back to you.

Unfortunately, at present we cannot pay writers. Shower of Kunst has been a non-funded and voluntary organisation since its founding 5 years ago.

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

What the devil is the Dublin Biennial?

What the devil is the Dublin Biennial?
by Jim Ricks
24 June 2014

The second Dublin Biennial International Exhibition of Contemporary Art closed its 12 day showing on Sunday. Seemingly coming from ‘nowhere’ (i.e. not from the expected channels of arts production and dissemination) in 2012, it was met by many members of the Visual Arts community almost universally with condemnation. “It’s a scam” was the most common reaction. But why? 

Actually, the answer is very simple.

It's not a Biennial.

Installation view with Guggi's Pots to the left and Andrew Duggan's NAMA Bear to the right.

Yes, of course it is happening every 2 years, with plans for one in 2016. And in the literal meaning of the word biennial, like the variety of plants, it does just that. But Biennial or Biennale (WITH CAPITAL B’s) is a broader phenomenon in the art world, particularly in the last 20 (give or take a few) years.

The Venice Biennale was the first and continues to set the standard and, to some extent, the definition of a Biennial. Although it is more of an Olympics format, with individual artists or groups selected for national representation, ‘competing’ for awards and prestige. However, the likes of the Berlin Biennial, Istanbul Biennial, Glasgow International, Manifesta, etc., etc. and now EVA in Limerick are probably good examples of what the Visual Arts community thinks of when they hear Biennial: a single, non-commercial, large–scale, themed, and curated exhibition taking place over multiple venues with both selected artists and those chosen from an open submission. Other variations exist: those taking place less or more frequently, or those in a single venue, like the Whitney Biennial. The other key aspect of these events is regional and even national cultural cachet.

Chocolate by Conor Walton.

The Dublin Biennial was founded by its now Director/Curator Maggie Magee. Using the names ‘The Dublin Biennial 2014’ and the ‘Dublin Biennial Pop-Up’, this year it was housed in “a 15,000 ft space” in a few disused shops, ‘slack spaces’ in a shopping centre hit hard by the recession. Boasting its international credentials, the website states that “55 Artists were selected to exhibit representing 21 countries: Australia, Armenia, Brazil, Bolivia, China, Denmark, Ecuador, France, Germany, The Netherlands, Iran, India, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Switzerland, Turkey, UAE, UK, and the USA.” While the Dublin Biennial did manage a surprising number of ‘big names’ (Nigel Rolfe, Sonia Falcone, Gavin Turk, Rachel Joynt, Stephen Loughman, Guggi, Meadhbh O’Connor, etc.), it is doubtless the scale of the exhibition vis-a-vis its showy title remains problematic.

What really struck a chord with the Visual Arts community were the entry and exhibition costs required of participating artists. Keep in mind that both Dublin City Council and the Department of Arts, Heritage and the Gaeltacht allocated public funds to around the tune of €10,000 total for this exhibition. 

The application form reads: “Submission fee of €25/$33 is applicable per artwork entered. Entrance fee of €980/$1350 is applicable per artist selected to exhibit.” A submission fee is really quite common practice and is asked regularly of artists, but the “entrance fee” is quite out of the ordinary.

"It really was startling to hear the minister celebrate what had been achieved ‘on a shoestring budget’ when the bulk of the costs had been passed on to the participating artists.” i

Declan Long, Lecturer at NCAD and Critic

There are of course rental fees to exhibit in stalls at commercial art fairs, many charging into the 10’s of thousands. But these are what they say on the tin: commercial fairs for galleries to sell their artists' work. The fairs in exchange provide the display space, but importantly attract the buyers, and press; the footfall. Rental fees vary dependent on the status and location of the fair. It appears that in a way, Dublin Biennial is challenging the prevalent market model by offering its service directly to producers and bypassing the middle man. I can only conclude that the Dublin Biennial is a small art fair.

And that it's not a Biennial.

The [Entrance fee] money is obviously a stinker, but what leveraged those fees was the notion of an international biennial. It exploited the self-interests of certain artists and it hoodwinked a few politicians. The real shock for me was in seeing just how superficially the notion of a biennial was able to be appropriated, and just how quickly its symbolic capital was rolled-out, revealed as a turd, and then exhausted.

My fear is that the Dublin Biennial creates a scorched earth for other attempts to develop ambitious projects in Dublin with a similar vocabulary (but with a wish list of being critically-minded, well-budgeted, internationally-enabling, institutionally-mischievous). There needs to be another language for all of this. Perhaps that’s where it starts?”

Matt Packer, Curator, CCA Derry 

Gavin Turk's Refuse

I had the chance to ask Maggie Magee a few questions about the Dublin Biennial last week.

What got you personally interested in this project?  And in contemporary art? 

I’ll just dive in with a bit of background: BFA - Painting and Multimedia at NCAD (a long time ago!); MFA - School of the Art Institute in Chicago; Film/Video/Performance. I worked in the Film/Video/Motion Graphic industry in Chicago for many years. Producing a number of short films and documentaries (including Brian's Wilson's Smile and Pet Sounds documentaries). Throughout the ‘film period’ I always painted and exhibited my works.

Can you tell us some background on the project?  When did you start working on it? where did the idea come from?

Over the years I had met numerous international artists who were interested in exhibiting works in Ireland (as I was myself!) However there didn't seem to be any venue for ‘unknown’ artists to exhibit here and gallery rosters were already at capacity. That's where the idea of a pop-up came from. 

I proceeded to look for funding, unsuccessfully, and then decided to go ahead on my own. Putting a ‘small group show together’ and divvying up the cost of participation, the ‘small group show’ soon became 55 artists and that's when the inaugural happened in 2012.

Do you have relationships or partnerships with other arts organisations or galleries in Dublin? 

Unfortunately at this point we don't have relationships with other galleries or organizations in Ireland, it's something that we would like to foster – and hopeful will after this exhibit.

Where do you see the Biennial going in the future? Is this something that you see getting much bigger?

I'd really like to see the 'Biennial' evolve and become a multi-venue art festival in Dublin and fostering relationships with other organizations is key to that growth.  And, I believe it will grow because there is so much enthusiasm and support for the show - both by the artists and the public.  It's encouraging to see so many people engage with the art – Sonia Falcone's Campo de Color is the most photographed work in Ireland!  

The Biennial works I believe for a number of reasons... because of the wide range of works on exhibit, how accessible those works are, and because the show exists outside the confines of the 'Gallery/Museum' walls.  Exhibiting outside the traditional 'art-space'  is also something that appealed to a lot of the participating artists. For instance for Andrew Duggan, Meadhbh O’Connor, Belinda Loftus, and Sonia Falcone the opportunity to engage with an audience that wouldn't normally visit a gallery or museum. Also, the Conversations Series attracts interest, this year's the conversations are geared to environmental issues. 

How do you see the Biennale in relation to other arts organisations, festivals, and fairs (Vue at the RHA, Kilkenny Arts Festival, Eva in Limerick, Tulca in Galway, etc.)  in Ireland?

The Biennial is a 'start-up'/'one-woman' organization so it's difficult to compare it to more seasoned and funded organizations like the RHA, EVA, Kilkenny, Tulca – all of which I greatly admire and would aspire to learn from and perhaps even partner with in the future. 

How is the art collecting scene in Dublin?  Do you think that it is changing?  Is the Biennale consciously taking part in this conversation?

Yes, I think it is changing. The Biennial doesn't charge a commission and there's been a lot of interest in works. We've sold some work and hope to sell more at the Closing/Silent Art Auction this weekend. 

What about the name itself?  It seems to be a sore spot for some in the art world here. With EVA billing itself now as 'Ireland's Biennial' and the general assumption that a biennial is something that is less commercial and more looking towards the international, curated by a 'big name' across a number of venues or in a massive space (like Dublin Contemporary), with artists fees and new commissions, etc... do you see the name Dublin Biennial as a problem?  Is it misleading? Or is it an ambition?

In terms of the name 'Dublin Biennial', yes I agree it's both problematic and an ambition with the hope that it will develop into a multi-venue exhibition or be in a huge space like the Contemporary.  Consider though again what the costs would be related to that scale of show, and the addition of a ‘big name’ international curator.  As I've said, the basic concept of the Dublin Biennial was to create a sustainable international show – one that could become a mainstay in the visual arts calendar, and a support for art and artists in Ireland. 

I am really hopeful that with the issues raised by the Dublin Biennial we can move forward with an open dialogue on how to best develop and present DB16.

Also, Irish artists and artists resident in Ireland have never paid any [Entrance] fees.

Hurting by Zhi Xinxin

So, it's not a Biennial. At least not yet.

"It's good for Ireland to have new voices coming in... There's space in Ireland for new ways of doing things, and voices from outside the systems. Is the Dublin Biennial headline over ambitious? Not if it grows into it. But can the event keep that position as a new voice within the conversation if it continues, expands and becomes an institution itself? I don't know.”

Gemma Tipton, Critic

Fair play to Magee, this is a ‘one-(wo)man band’. It is enterprising and ambitious, and definitely bold and cheeky. But I think if the Dublin Biennial is to grow and live up to its aspirations, it should not remain static. Of course it could stay a small art fair with an eclectic combination of artists representing themselves. And it can legally retain its name while it does so. The very real risk here is that it becomes increasingly marginalised from the Irish and international contemporary art scenes. And that an unpleasant and unproductive stand-off takes place. I’d predict also further outcry and protest by the Visual Arts community and its institutions in this scenario.

Alternatively, and what I would love to see, is an earnest effort to grow this dream of a Dublin Biennial. Connecting into the existing arts infrastructure in Dublin; a little joined up thinking! I’ve always wondered why events like EVA and Tulca, events that connect our existing resources and show them off (also like Visit and Culture Night on a different scale) couldn’t be grown into a month, or more, long city-wide Biennial? An exhibition that could potentially be shown in, and in conjunction with everyone. Combining resources.

The IMMA’s, The Hugh Lane’s, The National Galleries; and the Temple Bar Galleries, Project Arts’s, The Douglas Hyde’s; to the Block T’s, Pallas’s, Basic Space’s, the IMOCA's. A single, non-commercial, large–scale, themed, and curated exhibition taking place over multiple venues with both selected artists and those chosen from an open submission. In Dublin. Every 2 years. Adding up existing resources and skills. The pay-off is potentially huge for everyone, without the huge payout. A united Dublin artworld. “Can you count, suckers? I say, the future is ours... if you can count! Can you dig it?”**

An dtuigeann tú?

Sonia Falcone's Campo di Colore
* Be sure to listen to the rest of Declan Long’s June 13th “Dublin Biennial review” on RTÉ’s The Arena:

** From Cyrus’s speech in The Warriors, (Walter Hill, 1979)