Rebecca Atkinson enjoys an accessible solo exhibition featuring work by the Turner Prize-winning land artist Richard Long.
It’s ironic that signs asking people not to walk on the artworks adorn the walls of an exhibition about the act of walking. Ironic, but not completely unexpected, as there is something very tempting about Richard Long’s sculptures, which often resemble crunchy, gravelled pathways.
Time and Space, the artist’s solo exhibition at the Arnolfini centre for contemporary arts in Bristol, is a site-specific exhibition. The city and the south-west of England are deeply embedded in the artist’s life and work, as Long was born in Bristol in 1945 and now lives and works near the city.
The exhibition’s introductory text panel features a quote from the artist, where he points out that walking is universal to all cultures and peoples. “And yet it interests me to make walks that follow or realise original ideas, which are different from migrations, or making journeys, or exploring, or being a nomad or a pilgrim,” he writes.
“Walking as art, in fact.” It is this idea that informs Time and Space. And nowhere is it demonstrated more bluntly than in the ground floor gallery, where a number of Long’s poem-like text works from the 1980s and 1990s are printed on the walls.
A sense of the solitary
By documenting his walks – all of those on display either start or end in the Bristol area – and through the act of measuring their time and distance Long reveals how he relates to the natural environment.
There is a sense of order and isolation – just the artist and the world around him. In his 1986 walk from Bristol to Dawlish, for example, Long records notable – and not-so-notable – sights, such as “a gypsies’ fire”, “stones” and “the face of a cock”, and their distance into the walk.
It’s like a rambler’s trail, but the observations are pointless without map references.
On the wall is a new work, Muddy Water Falls (2015), where Long has smeared mud from the banks of the River Avon directly onto the wall by hand.
It doesn’t resemble what you might fear; instead the gallery is transformed into a cave painting, with wild gestures dried into the mud, punctuated by drips of water drawn down by gravity.
Also downstairs, in the foyer area, is one of Long’s photographic works, A Line in the Himalayas. This 1975 work shows a line of rocks that Long assembled on a glacier near the Mount Everest base camp. More photos are on display upstairs, again documenting Long’s landscape-based interventions created by the artist on his many walks around the world.
The maker’s mark
On first sight, you might mistake these sculptures as natural occurrences. Yet their exactness, and the repeated use of straight lines and near-perfect circles, reveal them to be the antithesis of nature.
They are the mark of the artist – his explorer’s flag – photographed, then left to resume their place in the landscape.
In the nearby galleries are two of Long’s physical sculptures. The first, Bristol (from 1967-2015), is a series of concentric circles. They were constructed in the city in 1967 before being transported to, and photographed in, different places by Long in the summer
of that year.
The artwork has been recreated for this show, and according to the exhibition guide, the circles suggest a fingerprint pressed into the landscape. “It might be regarded as a reference to that simple but profound experience a person travelling through a landscape may have realised that the centre of the world is wherever they happen to be at the time,” the guide continues.
I was not moved by this work, perhaps because it is made of stretched plastic rather than natural elements.
Time and Space (2015), a work in the next gallery, is more to my taste. This is a large cross made of pieces of slate, which takes up nearly the entire floor space. It is satisfyingly neat; every individual piece fits with its neighbour.
To me, it looks like a complete piece of slate that’s been shattered into dozens of fragments, whereas in fact the shards have been pieced together to form the cross.
Reflective art
Much of Long’s work is incredibly accessible, because it reflects the universal activities of walking and documenting.
But I wish there was more opportunity in this exhibition for visitors to explore their own interpretations and emotional responses to the work, rather than feeling compelled – as I was – to consult the guidebook for meaning.
There is a good children’s guide, but it would help if there was something similar for adults. Display cases filled with letters, books and photographs can be seen on the second floor of the gallery.
The guide tells visitors that Long uses artists’ books as a means to disseminate his ideas to a wider audience, so it would have been nice to have a few handling copies available to browse, even if they were just facsimiles.
A final gallery features some of Long’s new fingerprint driftwood drawings, which resemble Aboriginal dot paintings. I love the artist’s use of natural materials such as wood and mud, which relates to the other exhibits while at the same time looking entirely different.
Unfortunately, I couldn't travel to an offsite work made by Long to accompany the Arnolfini exhibition. Boyhood Line, 2015, is a line of stones in the nearby Downs where Long played as a boy.
A video in the gallery’s reading room documents how the work was made, and I was transfixed by Long’s repetitive action of placing the stark white stones in green surroundings.
It is difficult to tell how long the artwork will remain in its current state, especially as it criss-crosses a number of man-made pathways trampled by runners, dog- walkers, farmers and even, in the past, ancient Britons.
Like the rest of the Time and Space exhibition, Boyhood Line is a reminder of the transient nature of our journeys through the landscape, and the potential for all of us to leave a mark, if only for a short time.
Cost Undisclosed
Main funders Arts Council England Exceptional Fund as part of Bristol’s year as European Green Capital. Delivered by the Bristol Cultural Development Partnership. Additional support from the Lisson Gallery
Curator Lucy Badrocke Technician and art handling Mark Harris
Designer Rowan Green Photographer Stuart Whipps Publication Arnolfini and Konig Offsite commission Boyhood Line (2015) made possible by Simplyhealth - Art in the Public Realm Commission Award Exhibition ends 15 November
It’s ironic that signs asking people not to walk on the artworks adorn the walls of an exhibition about the act of walking. Ironic, but not completely unexpected, as there is something very tempting about Richard Long’s sculptures, which often resemble crunchy, gravelled pathways.
Time and Space, the artist’s solo exhibition at the Arnolfini centre for contemporary arts in Bristol, is a site-specific exhibition. The city and the south-west of England are deeply embedded in the artist’s life and work, as Long was born in Bristol in 1945 and now lives and works near the city.
The exhibition’s introductory text panel features a quote from the artist, where he points out that walking is universal to all cultures and peoples. “And yet it interests me to make walks that follow or realise original ideas, which are different from migrations, or making journeys, or exploring, or being a nomad or a pilgrim,” he writes.
“Walking as art, in fact.” It is this idea that informs Time and Space. And nowhere is it demonstrated more bluntly than in the ground floor gallery, where a number of Long’s poem-like text works from the 1980s and 1990s are printed on the walls.
A sense of the solitary
By documenting his walks – all of those on display either start or end in the Bristol area – and through the act of measuring their time and distance Long reveals how he relates to the natural environment.
There is a sense of order and isolation – just the artist and the world around him. In his 1986 walk from Bristol to Dawlish, for example, Long records notable – and not-so-notable – sights, such as “a gypsies’ fire”, “stones” and “the face of a cock”, and their distance into the walk.
It’s like a rambler’s trail, but the observations are pointless without map references.
On the wall is a new work, Muddy Water Falls (2015), where Long has smeared mud from the banks of the River Avon directly onto the wall by hand.
It doesn’t resemble what you might fear; instead the gallery is transformed into a cave painting, with wild gestures dried into the mud, punctuated by drips of water drawn down by gravity.
Also downstairs, in the foyer area, is one of Long’s photographic works, A Line in the Himalayas. This 1975 work shows a line of rocks that Long assembled on a glacier near the Mount Everest base camp. More photos are on display upstairs, again documenting Long’s landscape-based interventions created by the artist on his many walks around the world.
The maker’s mark
On first sight, you might mistake these sculptures as natural occurrences. Yet their exactness, and the repeated use of straight lines and near-perfect circles, reveal them to be the antithesis of nature.
They are the mark of the artist – his explorer’s flag – photographed, then left to resume their place in the landscape.
In the nearby galleries are two of Long’s physical sculptures. The first, Bristol (from 1967-2015), is a series of concentric circles. They were constructed in the city in 1967 before being transported to, and photographed in, different places by Long in the summer
of that year.
The artwork has been recreated for this show, and according to the exhibition guide, the circles suggest a fingerprint pressed into the landscape. “It might be regarded as a reference to that simple but profound experience a person travelling through a landscape may have realised that the centre of the world is wherever they happen to be at the time,” the guide continues.
I was not moved by this work, perhaps because it is made of stretched plastic rather than natural elements.
Time and Space (2015), a work in the next gallery, is more to my taste. This is a large cross made of pieces of slate, which takes up nearly the entire floor space. It is satisfyingly neat; every individual piece fits with its neighbour.
To me, it looks like a complete piece of slate that’s been shattered into dozens of fragments, whereas in fact the shards have been pieced together to form the cross.
Reflective art
Much of Long’s work is incredibly accessible, because it reflects the universal activities of walking and documenting.
But I wish there was more opportunity in this exhibition for visitors to explore their own interpretations and emotional responses to the work, rather than feeling compelled – as I was – to consult the guidebook for meaning.
There is a good children’s guide, but it would help if there was something similar for adults. Display cases filled with letters, books and photographs can be seen on the second floor of the gallery.
The guide tells visitors that Long uses artists’ books as a means to disseminate his ideas to a wider audience, so it would have been nice to have a few handling copies available to browse, even if they were just facsimiles.
A final gallery features some of Long’s new fingerprint driftwood drawings, which resemble Aboriginal dot paintings. I love the artist’s use of natural materials such as wood and mud, which relates to the other exhibits while at the same time looking entirely different.
Unfortunately, I couldn't travel to an offsite work made by Long to accompany the Arnolfini exhibition. Boyhood Line, 2015, is a line of stones in the nearby Downs where Long played as a boy.
A video in the gallery’s reading room documents how the work was made, and I was transfixed by Long’s repetitive action of placing the stark white stones in green surroundings.
It is difficult to tell how long the artwork will remain in its current state, especially as it criss-crosses a number of man-made pathways trampled by runners, dog- walkers, farmers and even, in the past, ancient Britons.
Like the rest of the Time and Space exhibition, Boyhood Line is a reminder of the transient nature of our journeys through the landscape, and the potential for all of us to leave a mark, if only for a short time.
Project data
Cost Undisclosed
Main funders Arts Council England Exceptional Fund as part of Bristol’s year as European Green Capital. Delivered by the Bristol Cultural Development Partnership. Additional support from the Lisson Gallery
Curator Lucy Badrocke Technician and art handling Mark Harris
Designer Rowan Green Photographer Stuart Whipps Publication Arnolfini and Konig Offsite commission Boyhood Line (2015) made possible by Simplyhealth - Art in the Public Realm Commission Award Exhibition ends 15 November
