This month, Team Uncollective headed to Exeter Phoenix to check out a collection of new works by a St. Ives based artist who is finally putting a bit of spunk (in some cases almost literally) back into the once renowned scene. I last crossed paths with Simon in 2016, when he invited me (and fellow artist Maddie Broad) to join him in a performance of poems at Newlyn Gallery, including a timeless piece about ‘Terry Frost’s Nipples’. This, I hope, begins to set the scene if you were previously unaware of his oeuvre. The new show takes its name from an essay by Mary Reufle on the subject of sincerity and irreverence. These two terms are fitting for Simon’s work, which seems steeped in further themes of conflict, often humorous; A truly post-modern practice leaping from traditional pottery (Fifty Slipware Plates) to contemporary neons (PAST-ORAL), urban sensibilities and rural identities. At this junction a comparison with Grayson Perry seems lazy but somewhat just. The plates are arguably Simon’s most ‘commercial’ work, at home in any upmarket Cornish gallery - but in fact some of the most subversive and ingenious of his creations. I hope that the artist takes as much delight as I did to see elderly couples appreciating the fine china work before realising that they are intricately and profusely decorated with symbols of spermatozoa - A piece of punk art born from the errant love child of Perry and Bernard Leach himself. The subtle dismantling of traditional ideals continued throughout the show - Although the artist’s attention turned now to macho culture and beat poetry. His blacklight poems demonstrate Simon’s skill in conveying a lifetime of experiences and ideas in just a few words. Throughout the evening, there was a steady flow of bodies weaving between the text filled canvases - And with good reason. With lines such as “A phone from her hand like a seagull to chips”, viewers of all ages were intrigued, moved and sometimes confused with no discretion necessary. I couldn’t help but be reminded by the equally concise and warm writings of David Robilliard, these fragments of introvert thoughts made overwhelmingly public. The pinnacle of the evening’s events lay in ‘Gabba Haiku’, however. Self-confessed ‘dance music enthusiast’ Simon invited the audience to witness his take on the traditional poetic form. In another seamless melding of eras, art forms and style; the mild-mannered artist became a 21st century beat poet for one night only. A flickering purple strobe transformed Bayliss into a Hacienda DJ, a queer Kerouac with a tongue in cheek style at odds with Exeter’s bubbling bourgeois. The homoerotic stanza of “...Underwear bulge, sideways glance, OMG” earned a well-deserved giggle from some audience members, but don’t be fooled - Some points of the performance reached an intersection of ecstasy and agony only matched by a 90s acid house rave. With his new video work still rolling, we were given a poignant context to the night - Kangaroos, steeped in a pinkish haze, amusing but somehow tragic and tender. There’s not many artists who could make a marsupial so engaging. The inaugural collection of Simon's Artist Tea Towel company is currently on show at the Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art. He'll be appearing at this year’s Langaland Festival, and is currently preparing another solo exhibition for the South West Showcase in Autumn 2018.
www.simon-bayliss.com Tom Stockley is the founder and creative director of We Are Uncollective. He currently lives in Bristol where he dabbles in spoken word, artist management, workshops and event organising. He’s the editor of Pint For A Piece and is always looking for more writers to feature. www.tomstockley.weebly.com
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As three of our team settle into life in Bristol, a City famous for its vibrant creative scene and poets of all shapes and styles - Massive Attack and Damien Hirst both hail from Bristol, both purveyors of contemporary poetry in their own way. Not to mention the 18th century poet and provocateur Hannah Moore, who was well known for her radical writing in a scene dominated by men. So it seemed poignant to share our collaborator Dave Green’s thoughts on Bukowski - poetry’s original bad boy and a big influence on how we think and work. Follow our social media to hear about our upcoming plans for spoken word and other endeavours in our new home - Tom (Editor, Pint For A Piece)
The following is a Bukowski aperitif. A cocktail mixed with Gaylord Brewer’s thoughts from his book ‘Charles Bukowski’, and Bukowski’s poems from Canongate’s collection ‘Charles Bukowski: The Pleasures of the Damned. Poems, 1951-1993’. Five hundred words isn’t enough for a hearty meal into the life and mind of this creative and deranged ‘laureate of American low life’ (Time). Hopefully, the following poems and comments will make you crave more of his work. German bar I had lost the last race big somebody had stolen my coat I could feel the flu coming on and my tires were low. I went in to get a beer at the German bar but the waitress was having a fit her heart strangled by disappointment grief and loss. women get troubled all at once, you know. I left a tip and got out. nobody wins. ask Caesar. Somewhere on the web, I read that Bukowski was a master of finishing poems on a punchy line encapsulating the feeling of the piece. Ask Caesar. Wealthiest, most powerful of men got stabbed in the back by an old friend. Bukowski: grizzled poet having a hard day of it. He’s not the only one. Bukowski captures all this in as fewer words as possible. Gaylord Brewer comments that Bukowski strove for simplicity, directness and rejection of metaphor. The language he uses in these shorter works reflects the sharpness of his poetry. oh, yes there are worse things than being alone but it often takes decades to realize this and most often when you do it’s too late and there’s nothing worse than too late. Bukowski is, like custard doughnuts or eating cucumber with hummus, divisive. There are those who adore his gritty poetry reflecting the underbelly of society with the coarse beats of his words emulating the pains of the forgotten. There are also those who view him as too callous, too absurd, who write him off as being exactly the character he has made for himself: a grizzled, poor man with holes in his pockets and no finesse. According to Gaylord Brewer, both views reflect a short-sighted reading of Bukowski and his poetry. This, in itself, hints at the depth and width of Bukowski’s work. dreaming I live alone in a small room and read the newspapers and sleep alone in the dark dreaming of crowds. There will only ever be one Bukowski. He had the raw heart of those who knew the difficulties of squalor and life. Skid Row, a place Bukowski often wrote about, is a district in LA measuring 11.2km2 and is home to 17,740 people living in varying degrees of destitution. A lot of Bukowski’s motifs tend to be entwined with such a location. That was his experience. Taking Bukowski’s style and my experience (working alongside asylum seekers and refugees), I’ve written the following in homage to Bukowski’s work. Laughter My Sudanese friend and I sit at the edge of the icy rink and laugh. Laugh as others slip and slide, laugh as others conquer the ice. We laugh in the same place, we laugh in the same world, we laugh, experiences apart. Dave Green is a poet, writer and children’s worker currently based in Loughborough. You may have spotted him at last year’s Langaland Festival, and you can see more of his work at www.facebook.com/abyadpoet |
PINT PIECESWe pay each author £5 for 500 words (roughly) on something creative - your favourite single, an exhibition you've been to, a new project or anything else you can think of! Feel free to include images. Send your PINT PIECE to [email protected] and we'll choose one per month. Archives
August 2019
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