"What the hell does this mean? Is it any wonder everyone hates modern art" were the frustrated words of an East Anglian Daily Times secretary struggling to get to grips with Edmund Goubert's exhibition of site specific paintings – Fugitive Pieces – on display at Ipswich Town Hall Galleries.
In her review, Sonia Carvell remarks that his "painting style won't please everyone", and this was certainly confirmed ten minutes prior to his walking tour, when after answering "yes" to Goubert's question "are you here for the walking tour?", an elderly couple did a half circuit of the exhibition – looking with bewilderment at the huge globules of oil paint oozing down the canvas like something out of John Carpenters The Thing – and then quietly headed for the exit.
Goubert himself seemed apprehensive as to what sort of audience, if any, the tour would attract, and whether there might be the odd heckler provoked – like the Daily Times secretary – by the exhibitions ambiguity. However by eleven o'clock, a group of a dozen or so enthusiasts sat eagerly anticipating the artist behind the exhibition, who without delay, started his talk with a sweeping hand gesture and the phrase "welcome to my world."
Fugitive Pieces
Goubert began by introducing the exhibition and explaining how it had evolved from a previous body of work in which he explored the relationship between the human perception of reality, and its expression through the 'structural qualities of language'.
This led him to create collages through a process of de-familiarisation, where, using a novel type script, he framed isolated snippets of the text inside a smooth oval shape, which was then – in several of his paintings - surrounded by oil paint so dense it seemed to melt down the canvas. This layering allowed Goubert to juxtapose the idea of consciousness - with its intrinsic mode of language expression - and the finite structure of the physical self which it inhabits.
Fugitive Pieces offers an "appropriate departure", in which the town of Ipswich becomes the text, and Goubert invites the viewer to re-read the architectural narratives of some of Ipswich's most iconic buildings. His exhibition incorporates photographs of his work placed within these structures, and as 'geometric misfits' they physically disrupt the narrative of space, and cause meaning to become "fugitive".
These sites include the Unitarian Meeting House and Willis Building – a choice which certainly gave him a lot of currency with the audience, who in response to Goubert's statement "I never knew Ipswich very well until recently", claimed a certain degree of ownership over the tour.
Unitarian Meeting House and Willis Building
Standing outside the Unitarian Meeting House and Willis building, it was difficult not to share in Goubert's fascination. Designed by Norman Foster, the Willis is the youngest listed building in Britain, and has three stories of impenetrable black glass which covers the exterior like a shell, while the open top roof boasts gardens complete with real grass.
Inside, while peering past the security guards, the seventies interior is reminiscent of old films like the Towering Inferno and 2001: A Space Odyssey, while the site itself, as some tour members explained, has polarized local opinion with some referring to it as 'the black heart of Ipswich'.
In contrast, Willis' ancient neighbour, the Unitarian meeting house, stands adjacent and is one of Britain’s oldest listed buildings. Inside, the clear glass windows and hard wooden interior reflect a different architectural narrative, one derived from its puritan heritage, where the sense of simplicity, openness and accessibility could not conflict more with the guarded, almost defensive, corporate stance of the Willis.
Overall
By using these local sites as inspiration for his exhibition, it was clear that Goubert had caught the imagination of many Ipswich people who were eager to interact with an artist who gained inspiration from their local architecture. Consequently his tour was extremely lively, with many people keen to share their own insights and contribute local knowledge. Far from alienating the audience as he might have feared, Goubert discovered a genuine enthusiasm in the people of Ipswich which proved, to his relief, that no, not everyone does hate modern art.
