It's Politics, Stupid!

          The autumnal equinox is not usually on my radar but, this year, having been invited to join friends around a small bonfire they lit to mark the event, at last I felt some sense of the need thus to ritualise our connection to nature’s cycles. The fact that the night-sky was calm and the stars twinkled over the stilled waters of the estuary probably helped lull me into a fleetingly, semi-mystic state of awe from which I found myself questioning the temporal strivings of humanity. It was a fitting start to a week I had earmarked for taking a break from the relentless and depressing news of politics to turn my attention, instead, to art and jazz.

          It began with standing under a suspended, giant model of the sun – Luke Jerram’s Helios – that is being shown, with an accompanying and appropriately spooking soundtrack, at various National Trust venues. The potentially mesmerising effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that, it being a rainy Saturday morning, young families were there in great numbers. But for my self-imposed schedule, I would have gone at a less busy time, so I made the best of it and reminded myself that ‘art is for all’, not just the leisured class.

          Thence to London, where, if you can afford the price of entry, there are always exhibitions of interest. At the National Gallery, the show Radical Harmony examines the works of the Neo-Impressionist painters of the late 19^th century, as represented in the extensive collection of a wealthy industrial heiress. Whether you simply like to admire the paintings, or consider the artists’ different approaches to the same subjects, or get up close to the technique popularly known as pointillism, there is another, underlying theme, explained in the notes – radical politics. Many of the artists in this movement were supporters of the anarchist communist agenda that championed working people’s rights to dignity and rest and supported the ideals of harmony with nature and non-exploitative government.

          Next, to the Royal Academy and the exhibition titled The Histories, comprising works by the American artist, Kerry James Marshall, who is celebrated for his figurative paintings that “unapologetically” centre Black people. As the title implies, the artist digs into history for his subject matter and, in so doing, engages with the socio-political issues of the times. His images are strikingly colourful and overtly political, taking a bold, brash approach to messaging, unlike that of the pretty, pointillist face behind which the Neo-Impressionists hid their political activism.

          Then I went from the grandeur of the West End institutions to the tiny Estorick Collection of Italian art, in Canonbury Square. The permanent collection there is full of the work of artists who engaged, not only with modernism, but also the rise of fascism pre-WWII. Their involvement in politics seemed almost de riguer. And, in the temporary gallery space, there is an exhibition of work from the 60s and 70s by Ketty La Rocca, a “trailblazing figure of Italian conceptual and feminist art”. Her interrogation of consumer culture and gender dynamics later became an exploration of alternative forms of communication. It’s all quite complicated to explain. Better to go and have a look. But there’s an element of visual poetry in her later work.

          Then there was jazz. At the suggestion of my friend and fellow afficionado, we went to a performance by an outfit called Lucid Dreamers. If anything could be labelled ‘experimental’, this was it. Leaning on a vocal, poetic base and eschewing regular structures, the music could have descended into incoherent cacophony. Yet there was form and a sense of purpose. And, played with passion by seasoned, talented musicians the music took me to places of tenderness and excitement – as I’m sure was the intention.

          I didn’t detect any obvious political content in the music, but who knows what drives such artists? However, on the walk home, I passed a parked-up, beaten-up old VW van that sported a bumper-sticker proclaiming “Everything is politics!” I’m inclined to agree.