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Soto Climent\/Klemms<\/p>\n Soto Climent\/Klemms<\/p>\n
Two weeks into my holiday, reality caught up with me. Summer was coming to an end and I had to go back to the harshness of every day life: work, waking up early, crowded public transport, brokenness and other equally pleasant things. The day of my departure from the picturesque hills of the Luberon coincided with\u00a0ART-O-RAMA, the art fair taking place in Marseille, only an hour away from the pristine nature I had just spent very relaxing times in. I thought this would work well as some therapeutic readjustment to contemporary art, a rather important part of both my private and professional life that I almost completely ignored for the last 14 days (between poolside lounging with ros\u00e9 and conceptual performance, I chose the former, and I\u2019m guessing most people would too). Upon leaving for Marseille though, I felt the sour tingling that comes with a lack of motivation. Did I really want to do this? Look at abstract sculpture in a stuffy hall with sweaty armpits instead of immersing myself in the oh-so-close waters of the Mediterranean? But I\u2019d already harassed a generous gallerist for a VIP ticket and looking at abstract sculpture is sort of my job, so I convinced myself this was worth it, and I went. But then, hallelujah: to my honest surprise, this turned out to be both a fantastic idea and an unexpected proof of the subliminal power of art.<\/p>\n
It started with an unplanned post-lunch visit of Martin Soto Climent\u2019s exhibition \u201cWorks and Days\u201d at Atlantis, a brand-new and pretty gorgeous exhibition space close to Marseille\u2019s old port. I walked in by chance and found myself in the presence of work that seemed honest, emotional, and of great sensitivity. The scale of Soto Climent\u2019s usually large wall pieces was reduced to something close to an A4 format; simple yet precise visual constructions and puns acutely conveyed layered emotionality. With very few to no materials at all – feathers, a dead butterfly, shells, stones, or the bare wall of the space – he reflected on the poetry of mundane things; black-and-white photographs, either paired with another wall piece or projected in a separate room, successfully managed to consolidate that message. All of this could have come across as student work, but precision and what I perceived as a smart refusal of sensationalism and post-internet sarcasm made it work.<\/span><\/p>\n After that pleasant intermezzo, I arrived at ART-O-RAMA, where the ambiance was relaxed, with tan gallerists in linen shirts sitting at their often summery-themed booths. The more I progressed through the fair, the happier it made me: instead of burdening conceptuality or tax-evasion schemes dragged up as boring painting, I saw whit, humour, optimism, cojones. Berlin\u2019s Exile Gallery presented a booth inspired by the 1902 tr\u00e8s French<\/em> silent film \u201cLe Voyage dans La Lune\u201d; paintings by Paul Sochacki, vaguely representing the celestial body in different sizes and arrangements, offered a funny reflection on the concept of originality and reproduction (the film itself, shortly upon release in France, had been pirated numerously by American movie studios). At the Parisian edition gallery we do not work alone, pitchers and plates by Matthieu Coss\u00e9 were decorated with coastlines and lush leaves, executed in broad strokes and referencing all the corny codes of provencal ceramics; however the artist was able to walk the fine line between mockery and homage. In a region almost plagued by the clich\u00e9s attached to it (just watch 10 minutes of \u201cA Good Year\u201d with Russell Crowe and you\u2019ll see what I mean), both Sochacki\u2019s and Coss\u00e9’s works were well-placed. It\u2019s rarer than I\u2019d like for me to find art that makes me laugh, and I consider it a feat worth pursuing for an artist. However, finding a gallery that achieves just that is even harder, but not impossible, as exemplified at ART-O-RAMA by another Berlin space. Known for a program that’s refined and discrete, Klemm\u2019s went full-on 1990s Calvin Klein and painted their logo on the entire length of their booth\u2019s wall, which seemed almost schizophrenic for them. That intervention was in fact a collaboration between artists Emilie Pitoiset and Fiona Mackay; the painting itself was covered at certain places with works on paper by Mackay, using all the colours of a meridional sunset and conveying the same feeling you\u2019d have when biting into a pepperoncino on purpose.<\/span><\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.sleek-mag.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/08\/tv-screen-900x600.jpg\")
Rebecca Ann Tess<\/p>\n
\nSmart works were also on view at Paris\u2019 Joseph Tang: I still think of Chlo\u00e9 Quenum\u2019s colourful pieces, consisting of simple sketches executed with metallic sticks she stuck on textured glass. They reminded me of sun and sea and Jaques Tati; aside from their immediate visual appeal, they seemed an unpretentious yet efficient exploration of the sempiternal grey zone between abstraction and figuration. At Cologne\u2019s Philipp von Rosen Gallerie, a sensational and once again pretty droll video by Rebecca Ann Tess struck a cord: In \u201cUpper\u201d, all you could see were static views of towers in San Gimignano, with the occasional feral pigeon hopping off of it. These Renaissance buildings were put up by the Tuscan town\u2019s powerful families with no other aim than to show off: they couldn\u2019t be used for defence purposes. Knowing this and seeing this succession of useless pre-skyscrapers triggered me in a good way: I had to laugh and was pleasantly surprised that for once, I felt entertained by a pissing contest rather than annoyed by it. Like a fresh oyster drizzled in lemon juice, Tess\u2019 work was very simple, but very tasty.<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.sleek-mag.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/08\/blueyellow-900x600.jpg\")
EXILE Gallery<\/p>\n
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Soto Climent\/Klemms<\/p>\n