Waking the dead.
'Death from Above' Sartorial Contemporary Art
Extra, extra! Read all about it. There's nothing like
the sensationalism of the news. This exhibition brings together clippings
from old broadsheets and incredibly detailed paintings of these snippets.
And the thing that ties them all together, apart from that contemporaneousness,
is that they're all about death.
The obituary pages get special attention in this visual
graveyard. (And Mendes in particular has a thing for the layout and imagery
in The Independent.) There are many images of the famous - Saddam Hussein,
Kurt Vonnegut, Anna Nicole Smith, James Brown - all touching on the strange
relationship between history and death. There are also pieces from other
news fragments. In particular, a rather interesting painting of an artwork
(Mark Wallinger's current Tate installation) of a painting by Banksy.
It's like a visual tongue-twister.
What doesn't quite come across in reproduction is the
skill in the paintings
themselves. Mendes is good with a brush and death becomes him.
Francesca Gavin, BBC Collective, 26 April 07
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'Art News'
Three Colts Gallery, Nov - Dec 2004
Although 'Art News' gathered together contemporary artists
working with newspaper, it was remarkably free from the anxiety of influence.
The newspaper figured here not as ephemera or found object, but rather
as medium, with artists remaining within the page layout or using it as
(literal) material. Melanie Jackson fashioned a grey spindly cactus out
of newspaper pulp, while Amikam Toren pulped stock quotes and bad news
from Iraq to create a blurry Ad Reinhardt. Alternate newspaper universes
abounded: Kim Rugg rearranged the letters of the Guardian so that the
paragraphs were long alphabets rather than meaningful sentences. In Alex
Hamilton's wonderful renderings of front pages, penned hieroglyphs stood
in place of text, replacing anonymous authority with idiosyncratic doodles.
Eva Weinmayr painted Formula One racing-car paint onto newsprint, literalising
the idea of an 'opposite' page by foregrounding what newspapers are not:
beautiful, iridescent, a-functional.
The assumed contrast between the visual and the textual
was best illustrated by Martin Creed, who played the two off each other
to question the association of text with information and form with abstraction.
Creed showed 'A' through 'I' of a series commissioned by The Independent,
which printed a single letter each day in the front section. The work
transformed the basic building block of newspaper information - its letters
- into pure shapes, and shapes whose meaning derived only from their place
in the pre-formed series.
The show's curator, Hugh Mendes, diverged from the dominant
focus on medium to approach content with Levinian concerns of mediation
and appropriation, with Richter-like paintings of obituaries of intellectual
dignitaries: Jacques Derrida, John Coplans, Henri Cartier-Bresson. The
painted scraps of newspaper, depicted with torn edges and a shadow on
the canvas, set the obituaries' subjects at three levels of remove - in
the photograph, the photograph's reprint and the painted representation.
Given the art world's recent saturation with political
messages, it was surprising that the show withheld any critique of the
newspapers place in the public sphere or systems of power. Depending on
how you felt about the last few festivals and biennials, 'Art News' was
either a relief or a strangely averted opportunity.
Melissa Gronlund, 'contemporary', Issue 70
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The Times
July 23, 2003
How painter, Hugh Mendes, turns news into art
By Kate Quill
As a painter, Hugh Mendes has enjoyed a typically
chequered career. He abandoned art as a young man and was prompted to return
to it just a few years ago after a painful bereavement. Now aged 47, and
back at his easel, his instinct has paid off. This former teacher has won
the main prize at Fresh Art, the talent-spotting show for emerging artists
which took over Islingtons Business Design Centre last weekend.
The bereavement is significant: Mendes paints still lifes in the venerable
tradition of the vanitas, which uses commonplace objects to remind us of
the fragile and transitory nature of life. But rather than hourglasses or
flowers on the brink of decay, Mendes uses newspapers to make his point.
He collects bundles of clippings from the days papers, combines them
in playful or uneasy juxtapositions of headline and photograph, and records
them with the skill of a trompe loeil painter.
Its a simple idea, and its perfect for the
genre. The newspaper, that man-made butterfly that ends its brief but
glorious day-long life in the bin, the gutter, or floating piecemeal through
a Tube tunnel, is offered up for the kind of sober contemplation that
it rarely, if ever, enjoys.
The nuts and bolts of the medium are all put on Mendess
dissecting table: typography, design, photojournalism, headlines, even
the wafer-thin, muddy quality of newsprint itself. Elements that are put
together at breakneck speed by armies of journalists and consumed
equally quickly are brought to an arresting, deadline-free halt.
Newspapers offer us strikingly beautiful images
that people rarely stop to look at properly, says Mendes. I
love typography, and am constantly struck by the high standard of photojournalism
in the papers.
Mendess big idea was launched, appropriately, on
the day the biggest story of our lives broke. With unsettling foresight,
he exhibited a diptych that juxtaposed a clipping of George Bush with
another from an Islamic paper that he found blowing around the street
near his East London home a photo of a turbanned man aiming a gun.
He placed the man pointing the gun directly at Bush. Mendes decided to
exhibit the diptych on his MA graduation day: September 11, 2001. As New
York entered a maelstrom, he realised that the turbanned figure was Osama
bin Laden.
Shaken by this experience, it nevertheless spurred him
on. His output is prolific he paints about one canvas a week. He
has his favourite papers and sections the obituary pages of The
Independent hold a particular vanitas-inspired appeal for him.
There is a notable streak of the unruly, provocative
editor in Mendes. Thus a headline quoting the Popes dismay at the
culture of death in the West is coupled with a photo-news
item about an exhibition of electric chairs in the US. He is also a stern
critic of the medium he examines so painstakingly. He is irritated by
endless redesigns and groans at the preponderance of san serif fonts.
Heavy, horrible to paint, dead, he says. He prefers the more
delicate serifs, such as Century and our own Times Classic, for their
elegance, their emotional quality.
A painter in an editors chair? What a thought.
You certainly wont look at your morning paper in quite the same
way again. Mendes does what good painters and good newspapers
strive to do: question the way we see things.
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"Hugh Mendes' portrait of Hitler - a bizarre and
disconcerting painting -exercises a confrontation with the cataclysmic
historical event of the twentieth century. Above an image of Hitler, strangely
transposed onto a pastoral landscape, reads: 'All artists have huge egos
in order to believe they have something the world needs to hear or see
- or they wouldn't have the nerve to make it in the first place.' It is
a deliberately provocative reshuffling of history, one that elucidates
the distorted skew recollection can give to even the most familiar of
events."
Katie Kitamura, Contemporary, Oct '02
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