Where Language Stops is a new exhibition housed in the
Wilkinson Gallery, a former East London industrial unit.
Conceived and curated by gallery owner Amanda Wilkinson and philosopher Jonathan Lahey Dronsfield, the exhibition ties together an assortment of different media to assess the purpose of language in art. Each artist’s piece is a response to text written by Dronsfield on the subject for the exhibition.
The gallery awards visitors with little information for the exhibition. With no labels to each piece, a map with the credits is provided. A transcript of a conversation between Wilkinson and Dronsfield, skirting around the reasoning behind the exhibition is also available however, beyond this, there is no further context or explanation. The onus is placed on the visitor to develop their own meaning and path through the exhibition.
Dronsfield’s own response is exhibited in the first of two spacious rooms. A sequence of ten frames (pictured below) contains the same two pages of philosophical text, with each version missing different phrases and letters. Dronsfield addresses the importance of words and language to our understanding of the world. Without the missing text, the meaning is lost. Only once all ten versions have been read do we see in full what he has written – an assessment of French philosophy, featuring the likes of Derrida and Sartre.
above, from left: Dronsfield's 'A Picture of French Literature' (2011) and
Juliette Bonneviot's Medal of Honor Pollock Seven Red Paintings (2011)
As a piece of art, it is minimalist, monochromatic – black digital print on white paper – and draws in the viewer as each separate frame edges closer to delivering the full picture. Understanding the work is achieved through visually piecing together and eliminating the absent.
Joan Jonas’ untitled group of sketches range from rough solar system-like chalk sketches to obscure, almost shapeless, doodles. Jonas’ pieces say less immediately than Dronsfield’s texts, highlighting the broad range of responses that were produced by the contributors, however Jonas’ sketches have less impact due to their unclear message.
When moving upstairs into the second half of the exhibition, confronting the visitor is a surprising sight. Across the entrance, at chest height, is a canvas blocking the entrance (pictured below). The other side of the obstructive canvas – by
Ilja Karilampi – reads ‘Vicki Leekx’, the title of musician
M.I.A.’s 2010 mixtape. Her music itself is brash and uncompromising, and the imposition of this canvas on the visitor echoes that boldness in M.I.A.’s own work. The canvas communicates the personality of M.I.A. and her music through its brash positioning rather than through words or language.
The quality of the work continued with Lena Henke’s two striking black sculptures (pictured above), formed of fibreglass and epoxy with no clear shape or structure, occupying the centre space standing out for their eccentricity and craftsmanship in equal measure. It seems that each piece is intended to elicit a purely emotional response, not rationalised by an explanation of the artist’s intention. The folded forms appear like fabric, questioning our perception of material - extending the impact of the brief set by Dronsfield to aesthetic cultures beyond written language.
The range of responses from the artists has led to an equal mix of ambiguity and delight, due to Dronsfield and Wilkinson allowing each contributor to approach the brief from their own perspective.
Leaving the gallery, it remains unclear whether the exhibits are an explicit response to Dronsfield’s brief or whether it has been shaped to fit the parameters set by the curator. Regardless, Where Language Stops is a thought-provoking and challenging exhibition.
Where Language Stops until 14 August at the Wilkinson Gallery, E2
