Review: Bloomberg New Contemporaries 2018
at South London Galleries

For those who have the Bloomberg New Contemporaries on their annual art exhibition radar, this year’s offering may seem to uphold its yearly promise: to display art at the forefront of what’s fresh and creatively inspired. Within the New Contemporaries team, however, curatorial policies are shifting along with the institutional structure of the art school. Besides keeping a keen eye out for artworks that are formally striking or contextually rich, the New Contemporaries team of directors and selectors had some additional concerns: “How to aid those emerging artists who cannot gamble with student debt? What does an alternative learning programme offer that an institutional art school doesn’t?”

The exhibition series thus has a new primary concern, and it seems that the solution was to make their annual open call even more open. What had touted itself as a graduate degree show of sorts since 1949 has now become more inclusive of early-career artists of more structurally informal artistic training and practice. To be a new New Contemporary, a BFA or MFA degree is now not entirely necessary.

These winds of change for the New Contemporaries led me to ask the universe (without much hope for an answer), “Does this new ruling make for a marked change in the quality of the final show, for better or for worse? Does any change in quality, for better or for worse, speak to the perceived disparity between formal, informal, and even self-directed arts training?” And so the show, bound to its own new ruling, is expected to speak for itself.
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This year’s London show is being hosted by the South London Gallery across its two buildings, with each of the four exhibition spaces containing an abundance of form, color, emotion, and personality.

Panicattack Duo's Nothing Really Mattress is an immediate standout in terms of form, perhaps especially for those who are keen on Tracey Emin’s works. But more than just a physical representation of the millennial lifestyle, the artists intend for this bed space to be an “intimate public space”, with a rotating programme of talks, performances, and art-making activities with audiences. Themes touched upon by the programme include underground cultural production; the burden of worrying; nationality and representation; and the challenges of being an emerging curator. Despite my not having participated in any of these activities, I feel that Panicattack Duo’s message is a strong one: that today, we shouldn’t feel like we are alone and confined to the walls we build for ourselves. There are kindred spirits out there in intimate public spaces, if only we dare to explore. And true enough, many of the other works throughout the New Contemporaries show tackle similar, if not the same, concerns.

 FC Izaac's Princess Peach provides an exploration of gay subcultures, particularly that of drug-fuelled sex parties or chemsex. The work itself is very minimalistic in form, taking on graphic design principles of subtle figuration and strong typography, with the second element completely throwing off the contextual balance of the work. A sensual sketch of a human face is partially obscured by the word “ASS”; a vaguely composed photograph of a hirsute body is overpowered by the message “GAY SHIT NO CHEMS”. ​

Yushi Li similarly tackles online dating and relationships through her photography series, My Tinder Boys, titling each piece according to elements of each subject’s dating profiles (e.g. My Tinder Boys – Lucas, 21, 27 km away). Each of “her” men are made to strip down completely, and pose in a cozy kitchen doing seemingly normal kitchen-y things like eating a cake or some watermelon. But the palpable discomfort in these men’s posing jumps out of each frame. Li reminds us that in the contexts of both art history and the domestic realm, it’s always the woman who is confined to such a space and to such mundane activities. Li thus successfully performs a strong one-two punch of addressing dubious social media practices while making the rare, full use of the female gaze.

Less about love, and more about power, Viviana Troya's Hatchery can be found warmly nestled in a corner of one of the smaller galleries and brightly lit as though in an incubator. The installation reminds me of the subculture of Instagram influencers and how they each promote a manufactured sense of individuality and autonomy albeit following a very apparent, very prevalent template. And how, beyond this template, is a corporate Big Brother figure simultaneously watching closely and aloofly, waiting to see which influencer is to become the next big new shiny viral thing.

Almost literally hitting close to home is the topic of migration, diaspora, and representation. Heidi Maribut's IMPORT IN(CHOIR)Y stands out as a medley of the Asian immigration experience. The installation employs a transistor radio playing pop music from BBC Asian Network playlists to grab the visitor’s ears, from whence fixation shifts from aural to visual. The work is not completely experienced if not circled by the viewer: a paper cutout fortune cookie spins on a turntable reminiscent of the Lazy Susans ubiquitous in Chinese restaurants; a makeshift ethnic store hawks canned Heinz beans, Marmite, Colman’s mustard, and San Pellegrino fizzy water alongside Kikkoman soy sauce, Lee Kum Kee oyster sauce, White Rabbit milk candies, and the number one Asian cure-all Tiger Balm; a commentary on British fixation on tea-drinking and the Royal Family; Persian carpets and ads for Zither players; and an abundance of spherical objects known to attract good luck. Maribut also offers a list of her own takes on the initialism of BBC, that include “British bone China”, “Breeding of British culture”, and “Bringing back colonies”, summing up the feelings of generations of immigrants and outsiders in a simple acronym of three letters.

Despite my attempts with the above highlights, there are too many works to dissect in turn. All the works presented are as diverse in form as they are in meaning, and do not seem to follow one set, over-arching narrative. The show then further puts out a second open call, and this time to the audience: one of further inspection and interpretation. My personal take is that the curation feels somewhat unbalanced – some works have a natural appeal to them, calling for attention with great ease; others fade into the background, high in quality as they are in execution, but perhaps not as compelling in their intended context. To answer my own questions from earlier, I am led to conclude that perhaps the quality of New Contemporaries under the new regulation is not so much dictated by the education received by the artist as it is the selectors’ agenda and intended message. And so this is the “unfair” thing about group shows, bringing to question the necessity of representing 57 artists in one offering.

Regardless of any reservations I may have as a viewer, I do feel that the decision by Bloomberg New Contemporaries to broaden their open call to students in non-degree-awarding programmes should be considered a landmark moment. It brings attention to the presence and availability of independent schools for those who have the gumption to make art but don’t have the resources. To name a few of these schools: School of the Damned; Open School East, Margate; Islington Mill Art Academy, Salford; and The Syllabus, partly organized by New Contemporaries. The one last detail I’d like to point out is simultaneously glaring and subtle: despite the importance placed by the show’s team of directors and selectors on this new ruling (as per their explanatory texts in the exhibition catalogue), there is no distinction made between artists who did or did not attend formal schooling – which is as it should be.

The express purpose of New Contemporaries is to be a yearly presentation of what results from the teaching of different techniques and formalities in fine arts schools. But its other, and perhaps more valuable, objective is to provide professional guidance and further opportunities of exposure to emerging artists. So, opening it this year to those who have not undertaken formal art degrees acknowledges a shifting terrain, a dynamism of how curators and artists regard the practice of art – perhaps not always adherent to a formal schooling, but most often dependent on personal inspiration, experience, and talent. Or it may well be that the most important factor of all isn’t so much the sort of training the artist undergoes as the artist’s very desire to create art.

The Bloomberg New Contemporaries 2018 runs through to 24 February 2018 at South London Gallery and its Fire Station annex at Peckham Road, London SE5 8UH.

by Camille Ignacio
She Performs Guest Writer
Follow her on IG: @quietlyinhypercolor

EDITOR’S NOTE: The works of Camilla Hanney and Maelynn Mae Green are included in this article because the artists are part of the She Performs community and have participated in exhibitions and events.