Curated by Charles Danby
Caoimhe Kilfeather, Line Ellegaard,
Laura Gannon and Giles Eldridge
The architecture at the center of Laura Gannon's film is the building E1027. Built in 1924 by the Irish designer Eileen Gray, it was designed as a monument to her then lover, the architect and writer Jean Badovici. From footage filmed in and around the now-dilapidated modernist villa, Gannon captures not only its fractured architecture but also its interwoven threads of mythology and past human presence. Gannon's work reveals the building in its contemporary starkness and captures its momentary flirtations with the blinding sun. The elements that corrode being also be those that capture.
Caoimhe Kilfeather's sculptural elements are deft manipulations of readily worked everyday materials, finely balanced and bent architectures that structurally vanish into their surround, hovering and posing between representation and formal abstractions. The works are grounded in existing systems, objects and images, which Kilfeather uses as catalysts to generate alternative narratives and forms. Likewise there is a transitory and transformative nature to Danish artist Line Ellegaard's works. These mark, occupy and embody physical spaces, existing and resting in momentary relapse rather than through any grounded stasis the works retain an ambiguity as to the actual manifestation. Often including live elements, the presence of the artist, as an unseen protagonist, solicits an absence of event. Retained elements such as Ellegaard's photographic work The Shelf (2008) renovate previous sites of temporary and whimsical architecture, offering new duration to already improbable and barely visible sculptural outcomes.
Giles Eldridge's I am master of silence (2009) comprises of three arrangements of works whose component elements include small-scale paintings, drawings and Polaroid photographs. Amassed in a constantly expanding archive Eldridge claims no loyalty to the images he creates, pulled from this archive individual works become grouped, and images become held momentarily at a point of stasis. Ascribing no interconnection, narrative or formal aesthetic to these clustered fragments, the presence of the work, in paradox, precariously testifies to these exact preoccupations. The arbitrary circumstance of their initial invitation from a world of fast-paced visual stimulus reaches epiphany in their endless remix.
At regular intervals huge black birds with glistening wings flew in flocks a few yards above the ground, incapable of rising any higher. They circled in a slow, ponderous flight, and sometimes one of them would leave, skim the ground, almost inseparable from it, and flap off in the same lethargic flight, until it was far enough away to be silhouetted by the horizon. The glass blurred, the landscape disappeared.