Clowns, Pigs and Stuffing: A visit to The Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney

Claire Brentnall

Still feeling a little Picasso’d out after visiting Barcelona’s Museu Picasso last April (I think I perhaps have an annual Picasso intake threshold), I decided not to visit the Masterpieces from the Musée National Picasso, Paris, exhibition, and instead devoted my time and attentions to the free, much less crowded exhibits that were showing at the Art Gallery NSW. And I’m very glad I did.

For me, as I am sure is the case for many an art lover, an enjoyable visit to a gallery will always include some fluctuation of emotion, and I am pleased to say that the Art Gallery NSW did not disappoint. Indeed, as I strayed away from the herd of Picasso fans to the basement floor of the gallery, the New Contemporary Galleries, featuring the John Kaldor Family Collection satisfied this remit: a contemporary cacophony of witty, gritty and sometimes freaky artworks. Aleks Danko’s Art Stuffing caught my eye: a paper filled Hessian bag with Art Stuffing written in prison block lettering on the front. This Warner Brothers-esque piece reminded me of the dry wit of David Shrigley, and I allowed myself a quiet giggle at the strange prop that I imagined sitting on the shelf in Danko’s studio, ready to fill his next creation, as if it were a cheap DFS sofa.

I also thoroughly enjoyed Jeff Koons's intentionally cringe-worthy Art Ad Portfolio. With the airbrushed skin and plastic hair of a Hollywood actor, Koons is pictured in gaudy hi-res answering a show-and-tell in an American classroom, gazing wistfully into the distance while being waited on by female swimwear models, and showing his fluffier side by cuddling a piglet next to its disgruntled mother.

Maybe I had had my fill of the ‘comedy’ art object that showed two fingers to the decorative arts with Danko, but Michael Landy’s No Frills series, left me rather cold. The huge Tesco value style Sculpture, Drawing and Painting had nothing in particular to offer, I felt, other than the obvious display of a rather boring concept. But perhaps that was the point, in which case I suppose it was successfully delivered: I was bored.

This monotony was however violently disrupted when I wandered into Ugo Rondinone’s piece If there were anywhere but desert. Wednesday. Not being a fan of clowns, discovering a life-sized clown figure lying on the floor was enough to make me jump, and then feel silly. This, coupled with a looped recorded conversation entitled ‘What do you want?’ projecting into the room, Rondinone’s work was altogether unsettling and sent shivers down my spine. I challenged myself to remain in the space for at least a minute. I failed.

However, after spotting the familiar, rasterised faces of Gilbert and George I felt reassured to explore the rest of the fantastic works that make up the John Kaldor Family collection. After experiencing an array of emotions that was as multi-coloured as Sol LeWitt’s Wall Drawing, I decided that this was a collection that was eclectic as much as it was well-stuffed.