pamela kouwenhoven
works on paper from 'Charge It' exhibition


 photographic images on paper 
 

 

      
"CHARGE
      IT" Prospect Gallery, June 4 ­ 25, 2006

      


      Reviewed by John Neylon ­ Art critic, author, curator

       

      In the first decades of the 20th century, artists were intent
      on driving deep wedges between art of the past and the modern
      era. Their key strategy was to use found objects and materials
      ­ usually mass-produced "non art" items such as
      Duchamp's bottle rack ­ but also scraps of industrial and
      everyday materials such as newspaper or linoleum. These artists
      challenged the community to consider that art and life were inseparable
      and that art could no longer be defined by media-based traditions
      [such as oil painting or bronze casting], but could take many
      forms and be made from any kind of material.

          These days, working with found, usually industrial,
      materials is mainstream art practice, unlikely to raise a murmur
      ­ unless the objects are large animals or used condoms or
      get encased in urine. But, as Pamela Kouwenhoven's exhibition
      reminds us, this tradition is not uniform. It consists of many
      overlapping and at times, diverging paths as diverse as Joseph
      Beuys' incorporation of rolls of felt and blocks of fat; Robert
      Rauschenberg's combine paintings; and Fiona Hall's Tupperware
      hybrids. Kouwenhoven's practice to date has been largely defined
      by two-dimensional works built from malthoid sheets once used
      to provide a damp course for water tanks. Kouwenhoven's keen
      eye for the aesthetics and potential of aged surfaces and forms
      enable her to exploit the robust texture of this material to
      produce collages which, in their brooding, pitted surfaces, become
      archetypal inland Australian landscapes. But her current exhibition
      presents a different face ­ this time coming up with other
      treasures in the form of wet-plated battery cases. In their recycling,
      the tops have been smashed, leaving weathered plastic shells
      in faded colours. Assembled in groups on clean white walls, these
      cases take on a new persona. One becomes aware of their strange
      beauty; a nuance of colours, the weathered textures and the profiling
      of the shattered outer edges which give, from side on, the impression
      of a polar landscape of smashed and colliding sheet ice. While
      it seems natural to want to align this work with the Zen aesthetic
      assemblages of an artist like Rosalie Gascoigne, the fact that
      we are looking at the carcasses of gutted power packs does skew
      the viewing.

          From a slightly darker perspective [and a
      side-long glance across the shattered upper edges of the casings]
      something approaching an apocalyptic vista of smashed and abandoned
      cities comes into focus. Having Adelaide photographer Michal
      Kluvanek isolate and photograph individual units has helped close
      the gap between Kouwenhoven's sense of relationship with the
      unique visual character of such abject material and the viewer's
      own sense of visual curiosity. The more Kouwenhoven's resolute
      practice continues to diversify [along with a stronger metaphoric
      content] the more that opportunities for such collaborations
      appear to beckon.

       

      THE ADELAIDE REVIEW, JUNE 30 ­ JULY 13, 2006