Charline Tyberghein: many drops make a puddle - Article
Ian Mundell- The Low Countries
Often the dominant emotion of Tyberghein's paintings is pathos or melancholy, a result of the intense focus on mundane objects and their isolation in geometrical space. This is something she tries to rebalance with a choice of colour that pushes the emotional register in the opposite direction, or a title that subverts the mood. For example, Woe is Me! (2019) tells the viewer not to take too seriously the sadness of a face made up of knives, teardrops and a comically soft bone, all cut out of a white foreground to reveal a wood grain underneath...... read more
Charline Tyberghein: many drops make a puddle - Interview
Sasha Bogojev - Juxtapoz
The inspiration for this show came from snake jugs. A traditional way of making a certain kind of ceramic jug in Northern America, started by the Catawba tribe and also known as Catawba Valley pottery that was later also made by white people.
These jugs came from a combination of circumstances, the name comes from the snakes that are often added swirling around the jug, these jugs were quite popular during prohibition and the snakes warn the people about the dangers of drinking. When canned goods and glassware became more popular and available the need for snake jugs dwindled, so the craftsmen of these snake jugs needed a new purpose for their jugs. Luckily for them, the jugs fit right in the arts and crafts movement and became collectibles..... read more
Grace Woodcock: GUT-BRAIN - Article
These Are the Artists You Need to Know Right Now
Elephant Magazine
Grace Woodcock only graduated from her degree at the Royal College of Art last year, but her work is both incredibly immediate and beautifully beguiling. Currently showing at Castor gallery, her installation immediately feels deliciously fleshy. Which is fitting, since it looks at our pink squishy innards. Her solo show, titled GUT-BRAIN, looks at the idea of the gut as the “original brain”, exploring these complex biological ideas through soft sculptural pieces and a deliberately 1960s sci-fi-esque vibe. Kitsch aside, her pieces delineate the intimacy of the processes that happen within our bodies and the strange architectures that form a person. Using materials including foam, silicone, Perspex and steel ‘subtly hijacked’ with traces of spirulina, pro and prebiotics and zinc oxide; Woodcock experiments with the interplay between texture and form, and the biological and the mechanical..... read more
Grace Woodcock: GUT-BRAIN - Interview
María Gracia de Pedro - Daily Lazy
I studied painting at undergraduate too but sculptural elements were already coming into my work. I’d cast wax and silicone elements, make table-like works and stacked, layered paintings. At the RCA I was struggling to achieve the tactility that I wanted through image-making. I started padding out flat work and bringing in textile and upholstery elements on flat forms to begin with. Then it was through learning to use 3D software that something clicked. As you use these programs you have a working view from the top, front, right, and perspective profiles. The wireframe line drawings generated by the software completely changed the way I was imagining new sculptural work..... read more
Grace Woodcock: GUT-BRAIN - Interview
Jillian Knipe - This is tomorrow
The show is about the gut as the original brain before we were conscious creatures, and the gut as a thinking entity which influences our brain. So ‘Cnidaria I & II’ (2020) is named after a type of life form that is a floating, brainless digestive system, like a jellyfish. The gut is responsible for a lot more than we give it credit for and the materials I use are something of an ode to Wilhelm Reich’s pseudo-scientific orgone crystals and their esoteric energy claims. In this show I’ve cast pro and prebiotic capsules, spirulina and zinc oxide, into drips of silicone, as a way of fossilising. I’ve then inserted them between layers of the sculptures.... read more
Rafal Zajko: Resuscitation - Review
Matthew McLean - Frieze
It being the first day I was told to work from home, I skipped the opening of Rafal Zajko’s ‘Resuscitation’ at Castor Projects – despite the proximity of the gallery from my flat. The Poland-born, UK-based artist’s show seems almost uncannily fitting for this moment: playing with ideas of culture, nature, threat and reinvention through the image of artificial respiration. Named for the biblical resurectee, a glass dome protruded from the wall mounted Lazarus (2020), periodically filling with vape fumes. The largest sculpture, Amber Chamber (2020), looked like an iron lung designed by Pierre Cardin, and housed a resting figure, surrounded by golden heads of wheat: like an ancient vegetation god become man-machine, air-sealed for an unknown future. In whatever ensues after lockdown, I resolve to make more effort with the local.... read more
Rafal Zajko: Resuscitation - Review
Laura O'Leary - This is tomorrow
At first glance, ‘Resuscitation’ appears as the set for a space-age laboratory in the form of a sculptural installation–we are clearly entering the future, with all the technological advancements that it brings. A large, vibrant orange tomb called ‘Amber Chamber’ (2020) takes centre stage, whilst other sculptures in bright, carefully considered colours are placed at varying levels around the room. Everything looks functional, clinically perfect almost–the words “don’t press the big red button” feel right at home here. The walls are dark green. Zajko lets me know that this colour is at once reminiscent of hospital scrubs, whilst also indicative of arsenic, referring to ideas of both healing and damaging in a binary act that recurs throughout this exhibition... read more
Habitual - Review
Chris Waywell - Time Out
In the spirit of new year, new you, Deptford’s Castor has done some spring cleaning, built a big plywood box and stuck a load of art in it. It’s like a giant plan chest tipped on its side. You pull out the drawers to display the works, a few at a time.
It’s a canny device, swerving the conventional, tired group show, where whoever shouts the loudest controls the room, and where you mentally calculate how much time you need to spend with any artist who isn’t your mate. It also makes you interact with the pieces in unusual, role-playing ways. If you’re the one pulling out the drawers, you’re put into the role of curator, doing the big reveal. If you’re sitting on the bench out front, you’re the critic or the collector... read more
Habitual - Review
Sonja Teszler - This is tomorrow
... instead of a conventional commercial group exhibition, ‘Habitual’ unfolds within the theatrical setting of a compulsive collector’s storage solution. The exhibition text written by David Northedge is a humorous inner monologue of said collector (rich with tongue-in-cheek puns such as “I’d simply buy-curious”). It’s a manic confessional about his or her obsessive tendencies, comparing art collecting to a kind of infectious disease or addiction, while simultaneously serving as a clever and suggestive introduction of the specific works of art in the exhibition... read moreAlan Magee: Data Dust, Dust Data - Review
Rebecca Morrill - This Is Tomorrow
Periodically, in curatorial and museological circles, studies appear and debates rage about why an exhibition visitor is more likely to turn left or turn right upon entering a gallery space. Some believe the decision to be driven by an individual’s innate predisposition or their cultural background, while others think it is dictated by the display itself – the curator’s choice. Upon entering ‘Data Dust, Dust Data’, Alan Magee’s second exhibition at Castor Projects, the visitor is immediately confronted by two contrasting artworks: go left towards a hanging, high-tech exhibit that includes a tangle of wires and exposed circuitry and a motionless robotic arm, or right towards a chest-height, curvilinear plinth topped with black foam and displaying a dozen small, pinkish objects... read moreMiriam Naeh: Tall Tales, Tall Tails - Review
Cara Bray - Boundary
Walking into Miriam Naeh’s ‘Tall Tales, Tall Tails,’ I’ve stumbled across the remnants of a scene I’m not so sure if I’m supposed to have seen. In the centre of the room, a burnt out fire not so long ago extinguished, reveals small skeletal bones settled amongst glowing embers and discarded objects, ashes consuming the final particles of life.Five white plinths surround the middle space, harbouring habitual evidence of unfamiliar life forms that remain unmoved since my entrance. Bulging bodies ooze eerily from behind the painted surfaces, unable to fully contain their swollen, lumpy mass. Nostrils, nipples, toes and tongues creep outwardly from dark holes, searching blindly for a hint of presence, whilst videos implanted inside the plinths beckon me to move closer, but still offer no explanation of the narrative on display... read more
