Anders Rindom: Winter update

I am uncertain if anyone that is apart from myself, ever accesses this tab. It is the trouble with all entries on websites; they are not interactive and will therefore seldom talk back.

The year that has just ended was a very busy one for me. I have had a traditional one-person show, of paintings and painterly objects at the X-bunker in Sønderborg, which served to inaugurate their new exhibition space. Shortly afterwards I opened a second display, this time in London: a presentation of two new, large-scale projects. A good part of what went into these pieces was of a three- dimensional kind; some I hope, could be said to reconsider the language of sculpture as they spoke. The venue for the presentation was a generous space, run by the Art in Perpetuity Trust. For the opening I had invited the double bass player Henrik Jensen to play improvisations on traditional songs, often Danish and associated with the themes I had attempted to address in my projects. At the end of the event, Henrik also accompanied me in a brief time- based piece, a performance I had prepared for the occasion.

As this rather hectic schedule is now over, I have had enough time and mental distance to look at another group of work, some pieces I have hesitantly labeled ‘A Sport and a Pastime’. It is a collection of small and medium sized paintings, based on a single quote from the Koran. I began work on it quite some time ago, then stopped; but have subsequently revisited it on quite a few occasions. As a series it is incomplete, an inquiry I have abandoned rather than completed. By making a selection from the many paintings it has generated and placing them together in a new folder, I have found a way of signing it off: accepting that even as a fragment, this cycle has reached the end of its natural life.

The two large presentations, the exhibitions with which I ended last year has meant that in one stroke, I have managed to empty my studio of both older and newer work. Such peaceful moments, alas never lasts for long: within a few months I have managed to refill and clutter it again, this time with stuff wrapped in clear plastic and stored in cardboard boxes. All projects have such a tendency, in particular when they are of a tree dimensional kind; and believe me, that inclination provide a constant source of conversation between practitioners of the kind of visual art I am endorsing.

I have to admit that there are times, when staring at all this stuff that I envy photographers. These days they are capable of storing their work, even whole exhibitions as files somewhere out of sight. Was it not for the pleasure of handling and smelling all these natural materials, as I cut and to assemble them- would I ever consider doing another object again? On balance, I probably would; that is the thing.

Should you be interested in seeing images of the large scale projects and of the performance, may I redirect you to the Painted with Sound website where the pictures are to be found?