Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Nestor Armando Gil @ Rufus Stone, 2

Hyde Park today was a beautiful walk-through  . . .

. . . en route to the London Hauser & Wirth where on view was a show of Paul McCarthy's recent paintings, predictably puerile but very engaging nonetheless.  The paintings, all large format and blown up with colour and text into which the artist put images of porn and fetish alongside covers from Cowboys and Indians magazine featuring Billy Crystal, for example, were not the most impressive part of the show.  That honour goes to the drawings, perhaps sketches for the paintings?, with loose scribble all over them that looked like directions for the artist (or assistants?) to render the larger works rightly.  Here is one image I took from the show that I will let stand in for the entire exhibition:

This city is in fact many small cities that bleed into one another so that when I get off the tube (that is what they call the subway here) I keep finding myself in a new place.  Westminster/City of London/East End/Soho, turn a corner and the world changes.

Later in the evening I went to an event that Rufus Stone had mentioned, a reception for designers at a swank restaurant/gallery/lecture space called sketch.  Not exactly my cup of tea but a lovely time in a place that may have the coolest loo (restroom) I have ever seen.  Each station was a white egg pod and above were multi-coloured squares of light in their own dance.  It was vision of the future from the past and read almost as retro.  The door to my egg was opened by an attendant in full black&white maid's uniform who said "welcome" as I walked into the toilet.

My time at the event was short-lived, however, as I was starving from a long day without much to eat.  Returning to Rufus Stone headquarters, Sebastian and I prepared a meal out of leftover couscous from a gathering here a few days ago.  Halfway through the meal, we were joined by our host and a delightful conversation ensued about design vs art, about the problematics of making objects and forms that borrow from other cultures their image and aesthetic.  It doesn't sound like it but we had ourselves some laughs.

It was supposed to rain today.   Instead it was sunny and warm, leaving me still more convinced that the story of foggy rainy London is a myth to keep the riff-raff out.  Ha!  I am sure with that said, tomorrow will bring a hail storm.

I have made contact with some Cuban people in this town and am hoping to get together with one or more of them soon to hear what Cubanidad exists here.  Perhaps (I think?  I hope?) the project is beginning to take shape.  Glad to be here and trying to dig in to this little piece of the Big Smoke (that's what some folks call London).  Meanwhile I want to keep my eyes wide to see if London will have its own plans and, if so, will tell me what to do.

Oh heck, I can't leave this post without showing you one image of those deranged and delicious drawings from the show at H&W:

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