Publication | The Shape We're In
In 1927, the influential yet obscure Blues Spirituals guitarist Blind Willie Johnson, with his gut wrenching evangelical songs released I know his blood can make me whole as a B-side. Creating music in the face of his abject existence, Johnson refers to the spiritual power of blood in providing an inner strength.
Less than 160 meters from Bleeding Heart Yard on Leather Lane, Jack Strange is about to install Special Effects in a disused shop front, a work that uses the artists’ blood as material. Arriving with his recently taken sample, all 200 ml of it, Strange proceeds to whitewash the windows with a blood soaked sponge. The circular motion of application echoes the rhythmic element present in this young artists practice. Oddly seductive, the windows are caressed and slowly layered distorting the view beyond. Special Effects is not to be considered sensationalist, this is not an exercise in ritualistic purging, and this is not about performance. Instead Strange emphasises blood as our special effect, a source that animates us.
The allusion to film goes beyond mere celluloid appreciation. By extracting the blood quite literally from its mechanical purpose of keeping, in this case, Strange alive, it is transformed into an optical effect. But it is no illusion, no fakery or trickery is employed, instead metaphorical meanings are instilled and the blood is abstracted to create a distinction between fiction and reality, interior and exterior, oneself and a collective existence.
Holding a mirror up to the viewer we are confronted as in so many of his works, with the dichotomy between desire and harmony. He questions societies opinions and beliefs in allegorical tones (this will be exceptionally poignant at the installation of Special Effects in the former Methodist Church at the Zabludowicz Collection). The residual blood in ‘Special Effects’, dried upon the glass acts as a snapshot, a trace of the merry fluctuating roller coaster ride we’re all on. Body feeling 3D echoes the effect our digital age has upon us. Hey, see that?! Yeah that’s what I reckon as well parodies the gallery visitor as well as the art market. Strange creates works that index our universal existence, acting as markers and reactive to our environment.
Drawing comparison as well as highlighting the distinct differences between nature and technology, Strange confronts the ensuing alienation of existing in a world that’s not of your own making by generating a new order and seizing back control. The rawness of his work either liberates or devalues his material as an end to this exploration, subverting form with comic ease.
With an autobiographical tone, Strange melds a cacophony of media and metaphors creating a dynamic oeuvre. Seemingly accidental, disjointed components construct a dialogue and a lyricism that identifies with Dickinson and Johnson’s concerns. This enables Strange to create a structure around the commonplace chaos he captures. His practice is curious, it’s accessible and it’s definitely humorous with an unbridled honesty. It goes beyond the mere glorification and praise of the mundane and the inanimate. Instead the appropriation of his varying components from twiglets, cardboard, chipfoam, soil, even toenail clippings, always comes back on us, the viewer.
There is no prescribed interpretation or one way to view Strange’s practice. He certainly does not want to indoctrinate his audience with a particular intention rather is intrigued by the viewers response. And this device of viewer participation is crucial. We are who make Special Effects and his other works come to life. It reminds me of silent Black and White movies, telling a story without an over active dialogue purely relying upon the power of the directors use of visual aids and the imagination of the viewer.
