previews

  • “DEREK JARMAN: PROTEST!”

    Irish Museum of Modern Art (IMMA)
    Royal Hospital Military Road Kilmainham
    November 15, 2019–February 23, 2020

    Curated by Seán Kissane

    Section 28 of the 1988 Local Government Act banned British councils from “promoting” homosexuality. Derek Jarman infamously responded the following year at a Glasgow live-art festival with an installation that featured two unclothed men sharing a bed surrounded by barbed wire and blood-spattered tabloid headlines. This piece will be re-created at IMMA for the most comprehensive survey of Jarman’s work in two decades. The exhibition will represent every aspect of his output, from his pointedly queer films and righteously bad-tempered canvases to his set designs for opera, ballet, and the films of Ken Russell, as well as selections from his voluminous diaries and sketchbooks. The catalogue, with contributions from musician Neil Tennant (of Pet Shop Boys) and novelist Olivia Laing, will include new writing on Jarman’s garden at his cottage in Dungeness, Kent, UK, which has become a site of pilgrimage since his death in 1994. Travels to Manchester Art Gallery April 2–August 31, 2020.

  • Rodney Graham, Halcion Sleep, 1994, video, black-and-white, silent, 26 minutes.

    Rodney Graham, Halcion Sleep, 1994, video, black-and-white, silent, 26 minutes.

    RODNEY GRAHAM

    Irish Museum of Modern Art (IMMA)
    Royal Hospital Military Road Kilmainham
    November 23, 2017–November 30, -0001

    Curated by Seán Kissane

    Rodney Graham has long repudiated endings in favor of reverie-like ingresses to the past; this midcareer sampling of his work, dating from 1993 to 2017, will be a dream, almost. In the video Halcion Sleep, 1994, while drugged in the back of a car, the artist revisits both childhood memories of somnolent travel and Warhol’s Sleep. In Rheinmetall/Victoria 8, 2003, a 1961 Italian projector screens artificial snow falling on a pristine 1930s German typewriter—defunct technologies pairing to fabricate ethereality. Since 2007, in scrupulously mocked-up, hugely appealing light-box mise-en-scènes, Graham has guised himself, inter alia, as a well-heeled amateur artist perpetuating Morris Louis’s stylistics after his final show, and an old-school jazz drummer thoughtful over a steak supper. One of his own albums is titled Why Look for Good Times?, but assuredly Graham is an optimist. His oneiric fakeries always come barnacled with enigma and open-endedness, rewinding to move forward—or at least to move.