Wim Botha at Michael Stevenson Contemporary
By Kim Gurney
Cold fusion is the science of creating energy by combining atomic nuclei at room temperature: whether or not it is actually possible, nobody really knows. Just as fusing nuclei release energy and neutrons, so the chain reaction of thoughts triggered by Wim Botha's current show does not end at the gallery door. 'Cold Fusion: gods, heroes and martyrs' at Michael Stevenson Contemporary Gallery offers viewers much to contemplate.
Botha is known for his recurrent subversion of official, religious and popular iconography. He has described his work to Sean O'Toole thus: 'I appropriate well-known, sometimes trite and over-saturated subject matter which, coupled with traditional shaping and technological elements, become the nucleus of a series of references around the inherent implication of the subject'. (www.artthrob.co.za/03apr/artbio.html)
This show is no different. We see the gods, heroes and martyrs of the show's title in various guises. But they are always raising questions and undermining assumptions rather than affirming answers and supporting accepted doctrine.
For instance, the biblical story of Abraham and Isaac is subverted with a finely sculpted bronze that depicts Isaac instead slitting Abraham's throat. We are confronted with the moment after the deed: both faces contorted with horror. The effect of this patricide is palm-sweating aversion.
Alongside, a second bronze depicts classical Greek icons. The half-man, half-goat Satyr is beating Bacchus, the son of Zeus, to death with his own ripped-off arm. Together, this Premonition of War series is a disturbing one, aided in its gravitas by the dramatic jigsaw puzzle cloudscapes as backdrops. The strong lighting creates a dark shadow behind the tussling duos, frozen mid-air in their falls from grace.
Two more cloudscapes of menacing stormy skies are framed on the opposite wall. Between them the Satyr makes a second appearance in Scapegoat, a life-size sculpture of burnt African hardwood and resin. This half-man, half-beast is clearly dead and has suffered a tortuous fate with burnt flesh, apparently broken neck and missing mid-section hinting at unspeakable events.
Who has become the scapegoat for what is unclear. The sculpture speaks perhaps of the dangers of mob justice and the desire to externalise blame. Is conflict bound to follow when responsibility for self is lacking, whether it be a child who blames a parent, or a mob fingering an individual? The Satyr is, after all, the ideal projection of 'the other'.
The central room is a visual treat and arguably the most successful. This is because the feeling of impending doom is still strong but it has the vital counterbalance of humour � albeit of a dry and sardonic kind.
The most striking aspect is a suspended faux pressed lead ceiling that appears to be collapsing under some terrific strain or perhaps caught in mid-implosion. The effect of the fragmented roof is both disconcerting and amusing: the ceiling � a structure one always takes for granted � is in places below head height and on brink of total collapse.
At the far end, a series of five pastel stained glass windows are suspended: three in a vertical row that depict the mushroom cloud of a nuclear explosion and one pane on either side. Their heavy frames are a recurring device throughout the show.
At right angles to this hangs a series of four linoprints on tea-stained Fabriano paper depicting the sequential annihilation of three trees by a vicious storm in a relatively barren landscape. Opposite, two paintings hang alongside each other. Vanitas depicts the memento mori of a skull; a human one here replaced by that of Australopithecus in one of many subtle changes to the vanitas conventions.
The Avenger painting of a Christ-like figure alongside is particularly striking. The character's pose mimics that of the character Trinity in the popular movie The Matrix. This appropriation from popular culture is also evident next door in a suspended sculpture of Leda and the Swan.
This classical myth has been variously depicted by artists throughout the centuries. Botha shows the moment of seduction by Zeus disguised as a swan. The sculpture is literally broken up into fragments, which are suspended by 13 straps from the ceiling. The tentacles penetrating Leda's body recall visuals from Japanese anime cartoons.
The sheer technical brilliance of Botha's work is immediately apparent. He applies his hand equally deftly to sculpture, painting and printmaking. The same fastidious attention to detail and finish is applied to every part of each work. The medium and the concept carry equal weight.
The show is a tantalising glimpse at an exciting and highly skilled young artist. His Standard Bank Young Artist exhibition is bound to impress viewers on its tour around the country later this year.
Opens: March 17
Closes: April 30
Michael Stevenson Contemporary Gallery
Hill House, De Smidt Street, Green Point
Tel: (021) 421 2575
Fax: (021) 421 2578
Email: di@michaelstevenson.com
www.michaelstevenson.com
