Diane Arbus at Nottingham Contemporary

Earlier this month, I paid my first visit to the new Nottingham Contemporary to catch the tail-end of the Diane Arbus exhibition. This exhibition is one of the Artist Rooms circulating shows and will be shown at Aberdeen Art Gallery and Tate Modern early in 2011.

This is not reversed, the signage has been painted that way

Nottingham Contemporary is very conveniently located only a few yards away from the upper level exit from the Broadmarsh Shopping Centre. It is a curious-looking building. Whatever delights it may contain in the way of exhibitions, the building itself has an aggressive, forbidding exterior. Its relatively windowless outside walls are painted a drab camouflage green, making it look like a casemate or fortified gun emplacement. One could well imagine that it would look quite at home along the Maginot Line or among the World War II defences of the Normandy Coastline. Like those structures, it is a multi-level building built down into the ground, descending into a disused railway cutting where the old Great Central Railway once entered a tunnel that burrowed deep beneath the heart of the city. 

Maybe it's my ageing eyesight, but I completely missed the main entrance, which is part of the long glass wall beneath the overhang in the lower photograph. Having walked straight past it without seeing that one part of the glass wall was a door, I went down the outside stairs to a patio outside the lower level. There, I could get into the gallery café and up the inside stairs to the main exhibition area.

Once inside the gallery, the exhibition lived up to all the positive reports I'd heard from the students who had already been to see it. Given that her work is so well-known, there is little I feel I can add except to note the pleasure of looking at first-generation and vintage prints of images usually seen as reproductions in books. The classic images we know so well – the identical twins and the boy with the hand grenade – were all there alongside a wealth of images that give an idea of a much broader range to her work.

 

While all of her work draws our attention to what the exhibition leaflet calls 'the unusual in the ordinary', many of her photographs avoid an emphasis on the grotesque and freakish and 'reflect her broader interest in the rituals and customs of self-contained groups'. In this, it is easy to see the inspiration she drew from the documentary portraiture of August Sander, whose influence she readily acknowledged. 

It was an exhibition that would repay a second visit, so it will be a pleasure to go and see it when it travels to London in March alongside what should be an equally fascinating exhibition on the work of Joseph Beuys.

Edward Weston in Edinburgh

While passing through Edinburgh at Festival time, I couldn't miss the opportunity to take a look at the Edward Weston exhibition. It takes up two floors of the City Art Centre, in Market Street and according to the exhibition leaflet, is the largest show of his work ever to visit the UK. The aim is to present a survey of his career and the work is grouped into sections that illustrate the development of his style in relation to his varied subject matter.

Pepper No. 30. 1930

Given that most of us know his work through reproductions in books, there's a certain frisson to seeing original vintage prints, sometimes signed and sometimes coming ever-so-slightly detached from their faded mounts. As well as the still life photographs that we're so familiar with, there were sections devoted to his work in Mexico, his portraits, nudes and early and later landscapes.

There were a fair number of images that are not generally known, especially among the portraits and early work. Seen alongside the better known works, they were key to showing how the stylistic conventions of his more celebrated work developed. The essence of the Edward Weston look.

'The White Iris' (Tina Modotti)
(This photograph was not in the exhibition)

A surprising (partial) omission was the scarcity of images relating to his relationship with Tina Modotti. The influence of Tina Modotti and Margrethe Mather in causing Weston to abandon his wife and conventionality in favour of bohemianism is key to both his oeuvre and his subject matter.

Edward Weston and Margrete Mather, 1922
(photo by Imogen Cunningham, not in exhibition)

The emphasis seemed to be on his later involvement with Charis Wilson, who both inspired him and gave him the practical help he needed to build a wider reputation and create much of the work for which he is now remembered. A hour-long documentary playing in a side gallery of the exhibition explored this phase of his career. It was too long a film to sit through for the majority of visitors, who mostly glanced in and moved away. As a day-tripper myself, I could only give it ten minutes or so of my time — it's unrealistic of exhibition organisers to expect visitors to do more, especially at Festival time. In this wired world, there should be other ways of accessing this kind of supporting material for visitors who want to learn more. It's surely possible for it to be made available online or via digital TV, if necessary via a secure password issued with the entry ticket.

Anyway, it was an enjoyable and memorable exhibition, the first big Weston show I've seen since the V&A show back in the early 1970's. Glad I saw it, though I couldn't afterwards summon up the willpower or a strong enough stomach to spend more than a token few seconds with William Wegman's bizarre dressed-up doggy pictures on the top floor. I still not quite sure whether I don't get his work, or whether I get it too well.

The Edward Weston exhibition continues at the City Art Centre until the 24th October 2010.