Art History Graduate

Seeing Squares- Seurat and Riley

A chance to explore these illusions first-hand

When Bridget Riley, aged 30, began working on her experiments with shape, she wanted to address if there was ‘anything new to be found in a square.’ In short, yes there was. Riley could not have known that her Movement in Squares (1961) would contribute to an explosion in artworks exploring perspective, form, colour and illusion. The movement would become known as ‘Op Art’ and was a defining artistic moment of the 1960s. An exhibition at the Holbourne museum, Bath, traces this development from its roots in early colour theory to its manifestations in other areas of culture.

Michele Eugene Chevreul, The Law of Simultaneous Colour Contrast, 1839

Seurat to Riley: The Art of Perception begins the exhibition with a brief history of artistic interest in colour and form. Beginning with Michele Eugene Chevreul’s works into colour theory in 1839, the exhibition sets itself a large scope to cover. It points to the huge impact Chevreul had on the Impressionists of the late 1800s, as they explored how dabs of contrasting colours could depict the effects of light. Perhaps one of the biggest examples of this is with the work of the Pointillist, Georges Seurat. He explored how, rather than mixing colours on a palette, dabbing complementary and contrasting colours together makes more vivid effects, as the eye itself mixes them when viewing them from a distance.

Georges Seurat, The Morning Walk, 1885

As the title of the exhibition suggests, the curators have aimed to draw parallels with this Impressionist artist and the later endeavours of Op Artists. It is a well-made argument, as clearly, Op Art too is interested in the effects that can be achieved when viewing colour. However, it was perhaps weakened by the fact there was only one Impressionist artwork on display, Seurat’s The Morning Walk, meaning the argument was made more with accompanying text, rather than with visual material.

Bridget Riley, Fall, 1963

Apart from this limitation, the exhibition was thorough with the rest of its collection of artworks. They have acquired many of Bridget Riley’s important early pieces, such as Pause (1964) and Bridget Riley, Fall (1963). These pieces alone make the exhibition worth seeing, as one can only really appreciate their effects in person. Fall in particular is an astonishing work of art, and one you will both want to and struggle to look at for long.

Bridget Riley, Rose Rose, 2011

Alongside these works are some of Riley’s rough experiments, showing the true scientific nature of her experimental works, involving careful calculations for every shape. As well as these monochromatic pieces, the exhibition includes her later works exploring colour, such as Rose Rose (2011). These are the less famous pieces, as they lack the optical illusory effects of some of her other works, but they are still worth seeing to fully appreciate the vast career of this artist.

Logo for the Mexico Olympic Games, 1968

These pieces are complimented with a range of other famous Op Art pieces, including Carlos Cruz-Diez’s 3D illusions, and Jeffrey Steele’s Harlequinade (1964). With many of the pieces on show, you will not believe they are simply monochrome or 2D. We are also shown the deep-rooted and widespread influence Op Art had, as it reached everything from the Mexico Olympic Games of 1968 to David Bowie’s album covers, a real strength of the collection.

Victor Varasely, Space Oddity, 1969

From contrasting colours to questioning how far a shape can be pushed, these artists truly had a real effect on visual culture and our way of seeing. It is worth making the trip to Bath to see these illusions first-hand.

Seurat to Riley: The Art of Perception is on display at the Holbourne Museum, Bath, until 21st January 2018.

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Things You Will Learn From Rebel Girls

A must-have for every person you know.

If you saw me opening my Amazon package last week, you’d know just how excited I’ve been to read Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls. It’s been critically acclaimed all over the world, and deserves every rave review it’s had. Styled as a children’s alternative to princess stories, this book was initially funded by a $1 million kickstarter campaign and can now be bought in beautiful hardcopy.

Everything from the yellow and red constellation inner cover to the inspirational quote as the dedication is new and different and exciting. Here is a book filled to the brim with fascinating stories of women from all over the world, spanning millennia, and fighting stereotypes. It is perfectly done, striking just the right tone in the text and accompanied by stunning illustrations.

Geri Stengel of Forbes has described it as ‘a must-have for the nightstand of every girl or young woman you know.’ But I’d disagree. I think this book is a must-have for every person you know, regardless of gender or age. Everyone can learn something from it, and to prove my point, I thought I’d compile a list…

· Rebel Girls come in all shapes, sizes, ages and ethnicities

With stories of 100 women, this book shows once and for all that women are amazing. This isn’t necessarily a new idea, but this is perhaps the most thorough survey I’ve seen, presented so well. Just flicking through the pages you’ll see women of all different skin colours, all different looks, and all different ages. Unfortunately, in the West, historical education is still heavily Euro-centric and based in classical education, meaning whereas we may know the name Cleopatra we don’t know the name Jingu. It’s books like these that can begin to target this imbalance.

· Rebel Girls don’t have to be sweet and perfect the whole time.

I was pleasantly surprised to see this book covering political leaders too, such as Margaret Thatcher, even if their legacy has been controversial. All too often feminist works like these, aimed at young girls, can be too sweet, and brush over complicated issues. This book shows that sometimes women are just as aggressive as men. Women can make mistakes or make harsh judgements. Girls should be given all types of role-models and women to admire, even if it’s not pretty and simple to do so.

· Sometimes there’s Rebel Boys too. And that’s ok.

Another thing feminist literature tends to brush over is how important men can be in the lives of great women. It doesn’t delegitimise women’s strength by saying men can be great too. From Orazio Gentileschi first giving his daughter a paintbrush to Pierre Curie working alongside his wife, it’s important to recognise where men have played a part, and this book does this perfectly.

· Art is universal.

One of my many favourite parts of this book was the choice to use many different artists from all over the world for the illustrations. The works are almost as important as the text in showing young girls that differences are amazing. Each artist uses her individual spin to make the profiles beautiful and current. The choice to use artists from across the world shows us these women can be relatable to everyone, regardless of where they were born.

· ‘Rebellious’ can mean anything and everything.

Yes, some of these women were pirates or activists, literal rebels against a regime or idea. But many of these women rebel in less obvious ways, such as coming up with an amazing scientific invention or creating poetry or sailing around the world. Not everyone has to fight against a regime to be powerful.

· The stories are fascinating, not just empowering.

Even if after reading all this, you’re not convinced. Even if you’re the most empowered person out there. Even if you don’t need anything to tell you how great women are. You should still read this book. Because, fundamentally the stories are adventurous, creative and exciting.

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A Kilo of Vintage Clothes

Vintage Kilo Sale at Motion.

Can you get more Bristol than that? (Not a rhetorical question, my struggle for edginess is ever growing.)

For someone who famously has to be dragged to any clubs that aren’t Lola’s, it was pretty unusual for me to eagerly stand in line outside Motion. It was even stranger to be there in daylight. I know many Bristolians will have been in Motion and seen the sun, surviving in the early hours of the morning, but I haven’t. My record in Motion is potentially 2 hours (and even then, I spent most of the time in the queue for the toilets, dodging the advances of the woman selling deodorant and lollipops.)

For those of you who don’t know Motion, I’ve just done a quick google search. It’s described as ‘Famed DJs in a matrix of old warehouse spaces with a cobbled front courtyard and riverside area’ which is pretty much the worst description of a club I’ve ever heard. ‘Yeah, Hugo, let’s go to Motion later, can’t wait to stand on some cobbled stones and overlook the river.’

Anyway, on Sunday, we entered Motion, not for a ‘famed DJ’ but for a Bristol Preloved Vintage Kilo. This basically means you are supplied with a bag and grab some old garms, get them weighed and pay by weight, at £15 a kilo. For your viewing pleasure (and a symptom of my epic procrastination leading up to deadlines), I’ve provided some highly aesthetic photo edits (more steps on my ladder to pure edgy goals).

Me thinking of synonyms for 'edgy'

When you first go in, there are stands selling jewellery. I was initially extremely hyped as a kilo of sunglasses is loaaadsss of sunglasses. It then became evident jewellery is sold separately, at £5 for sunglasses. Admittedly, they did have some pretty cool ones. But, as someone who needs prescription sunglasses, I wasn’t lured by the tinted frames.

The woman in the back was perhaps not so convinced by my photography skills

We moved in to the second room. It took us maybe 25 minutes to realise it was the main room of Motion. I hate to burst any bubbles, but the main room of Motion is actually not that big. During clubbing hours, it seems like miles to cross the floor, and you will suffer many an elbow to the face and or rib cage, yet actually, as a sober viewer, it’s literally just a normal sized room. Madness.

Actually not so daunting when my eardrums aren't being bombarded

Filled with plaid shirts, fur jackets, Adidas sportswear and dungarees, I could see my future at Bristol becoming ever cooler. However, on closer inspection, the rails did take quite a lot of sorting through before we found anything really wearable. There’s obviously the issue of quality –some things were a lot more ‘old and gross’ than ‘vintage and snazzy’- and there’s the problem of sizes, almost all the denim dungarees were the size of my bedroom, apart from a minuscule one which I couldn’t even get over my thigh.

If you don't rush to the sportswear rack at a vintage sale, do you even Uni?

We all managed to pick up some potentials though and went to the back to try them on. It was anarchy, with people whipping off plaid shirts to put on highly similar (but more smelly) plaid shirts.

(Just to clarify, Tash's expression is that of someone who survived the scrummage at the sports rack to get a vintage Nike shirt.)

In the queue for the changing room, I spotted one girl trying on a top I liked so sauntered over to tell her very politely that if she didn’t like it I wanted it so she should come find me. I thought the conversation went splendidly, but, as I walked back, Ellie said “she was terrified.” So perhaps my poker face isn’t as great as I thought.

Me hating the fact my housemate has edgier (aka: more fluffy) garms than me

I decided not to try anything on because I felt it was more in the spirit of thrift shopping to just chance it (aka: I was too lazy to take off my trainers and jeans.) The buying process was a surprise. I placed my bag on the weighing scales and the woman cheerfully read out “That’ll be £59 please.”

Maybe if I'd spent less time scaring fellow shoppers and more time trying things on, I would have realised this arty shirt is the size of a small tent...

Yep, also didn't try this Grandma skirt on before purchase. No one I've shown actually likes it, but maybe I'm a trendsetter?

Fifty. Nine. Pounds.

Some speedy mental maths (my calculator app) tells me that’s almost 4 kilos. I was visualising a packet of sugar, which surely is quite heavy, so hadn’t thought I’d go over a kilo that much. Then again, maybe other certain Bristol vintage-shoppers are better at said economics as they are more accustomed to weighing white substances…

Me deciding to wear this ski coat as a normal jacket because it weighs a kilo

Needless to say, I had to abandon two thirds of my loot and ended up only buying a few items and spending £23. Admittedly, my humungous ski jacket weighs about a kilo by itself and is pretty much useless considering I don’t ski. HOWEVER, can edgy fashion and brightly coloured, slightly strange garms really be called useless!? (Many would argue –shout out to my parents- that, yes, yes they can.)