|
|
| home | features | exhibitions | interviews | profiles | webprojects | gazetteer | links | archive | forum |
|
Alex Wade on law, literature and art Alex Wade is a writer, freelance journalist and occasional media lawyer. He is also art editor of Cornwall Today. e-interview by Rupert White
 Alex, your career has taken many fascinating twists and
turns. Am I right that you took a degree in English before training
as a lawyer, and then subsequently working as a writer?
Yes, I studied American and English Literature as my first degree
and also, before that, worked on a local newspaper. I enjoyed the
law, especially libel law (my specialism), but not the rigmarole
that goes with it. I guess I spent about 10 years as a libel lawyer
before switching to writing. But even now, I'm still 'on call' for
one or two newspapers as a lawyer.
How did you end up in Cornwall? How
has this worked out for you?
Two things brought me to Cornwall - surfing and my wife. I got into
surfing when I grew up in Devon but it had become an occasional part
of my life because of my career as a lawyer in London. I was
desperate to get back into it and writing my second book, Surf
Nation (a literary odyssey around UK surf culture) brought me back
to it. There's nowhere better for surfing in UK than Cornwall, as I
knew from having met my wife, who was bropught up in Charlestown. We
were married there and every holiday was spent coming down here.
Three years ago, we made the move, Karen to return and me to settle
here for the first time.
You've been the art editor for Cornwall Today for more than two years now. James Green (Director Newlyn and Exchange Art Galleries) commented on this site that the extent of art coverage in the local press far outstrips that seen anywhere else in the country which is an interesting observation. This coverage rather confirms and indeed reinforces the existence of what I would see as a largely self-contained and self-sustaining art scene here. Would you agree with this?
Absolutely, yes. The art scene here is only matched by that in
London. Its historical legacy is incredible but at the same time it
isn't a burden. There are plenty of artists here working in fresh,
new ways just as there are those who consciously seek to inhabit
more traditional, established spheres.
 How do you see the role of the local press in covering
art-related events? Who are your audience or readership, and what
kind of editorial decisions are you aware of making as you work?
One of the other great things about Cornwall is the local press. For
example, Frank Ruhrmund at the Cornishman does a great job in
promoting the arts in West Penwith. The task, from an editorial
point of view, is to be inclusive. Academic analysis of an artist's
methodology isn't going to work in the local media. What's important
is to convey the range of artists working here, and let readers -
who, so far as Cornwall Today is concerned, come from all walks of
life - decide what they want to go and see.
What have you learnt about art in Cornwall during your time writing about it, and are there any encounters, incidents or events that have stood out for you?
As a writer you learn early on that you can't please everyone. Nor,
indeed, should you try to. I've had a couple of reminders of this
since being here, but often when least expected. Discretion prevents
me from saying anymore.
What are the challenges of writing about art as you see them? Cornwall has a 'tradition' of abstract painting - but writing about abstract art is not easy...
I think writing about abstract art is very difficult. You can swap
phrases about 'ambiguity', 'resonance', 'fluidity', 'rhythmic line'
and 'tonal resolution' etc etc etc for just about anyone. As I've
got older I've also grown away from the New Criticism theories of
the 30s, and this, as well as abstract art's inherent, yes,
ambiguity, means that when I write about it I try to tell the story
of the artist and thereby subtly, almost coincidentally illustrate
the work, with small forays into art criticism, rather than produce
pages of what is sadly all too often meaningless verbiage.
For me, paintings don't use language, and, as such, it has little
place in their explication.
But it's true of all art, abstract or not, that it
either prompts discussion and thought or it doesn't. And generally
the good stuff does.
To place my own take on art in context, it was while studying
Literature that I thought seriously about modernism and other
literary movements. From a literary standpoint, the 60s was full
of predictions of the 'death of the novel'. Everything had been
done, nothing could be original anymore. Experimentation
followed. Some was good, much was woeful. But now, 30 years on,
the novel is still 'there' in all its multifarious glory, from
Bolano and Saramago to Tabucchi, Julian Barnes and even good old
Martin Amis. Indeed, there is an argument - and a good one -
that it's been dying, moving on and being ressurrected ever
since The Golden Ass by Apuleius.
It seems to me that what happens, each time, is that a new
writer comes along and, either working within an existing form
or deliberately transgressing the boundaries of form, puts his
or her stamp on literary narrative. This means that it's never
quite right to say, for example, that 'Most crime novels have
been done before - it's rare to see one that's original or
interesting'. Along comes Antonio Tabucchi with the magnificent
'Pereira Declares', and bang, the crime novel has a new lease of
life. It's one born of an individual writer's unique take on
what's gone before.
Hence, analogously, I don't agree with the notion that abstract
art has 'been done'. At this point I have to confess a bias, and
she comes in the form of my wife. Some people will look at her
work and think 'St Ives Modernism - very nice, but been done'
but they're missing the point. Citing Karen as an example, she's
a Cornish artist influenced by modernism here, but she's moving
its language along in her own style. (I would add that if those
same people saw her latest work, they would see that it is
visibly, rather than subtly, 'new'.)
 For me, as a writer, I believe that great writing is that which
harnesses so much of what has gone before, accommodates it,
plays with it, moves it forward. The result may be experimental
work such as Bolano's, or something archetypally modernist, such
as Saramago's 'All The Names'. It may also be deceptively
simple, making no demands of the reader other than that the work
is experienced (cf Luke Frost's work?).
Indeed, thinking about your point that the best art provokes
discussion, I'm not sure that can be taken as a given. Celebrity
Big Brother provokes plenty of discussion but that doesn't make
it worthwhile TV. I'm sure we can both think of legions of
artists, writers and musicians who toiled their entire lives in
the shadows, their work seemingly amounting to little more than
a whimper, only to be feted late in life or upon death. And
sometimes art - or writing, or music - provokes discussion
simply because it's so bad that the rest of us can't understand
what it's doing there. And if we add the modern-day PR machine
into the mix the idea that discussion equates to worth becomes
yet more fraught.
Perhaps it's OK if people say 'St Ives modernism - very nice and done before' - there is no shame in this. Maybe it's a case of accepting this and playing with the genre either by blatant copying or subtle reinvention. The challenge is to try and improve or update the original. Henrietta Dubrey is one example of many contemporary Cornish artists who does this well I think.
Appropriation of course is very post-modern. The
funny thing is that some of the art journals are proclaiming the
death of post-modernism and the rebirth of modernism. Ironically
what seems to often happen is that modernism gets appropriated
in a post-modern way.
Modernism never went away. That's the truth. And whatever the
label - whether impressionism, modernism, post-modernism,
expressionism, realism, conceptual art, whatever - all art is
intertextual. It always has been, and always will be.
paintings top to bottom by Karen Wade, Henrietta Dubrey and Luke Frost Surf Nation: In Search of the Fast Rights and Hollow Lefts of Britain and Ireland Wrecking Machine: A Tale of Real Fights and White Collars.
|
|
|
It's tempting to refer to modernist painting styles when
describing abstract art - because most of it has been done before.
It's rare that you see abstract art that is genuinely original
now. Most of it quotes or borrows bits and pieces from 20th
century painting. Luke Frost who was at Tate St Ives recently is
an example.