Timothy Furey at Ellis King / Dublin


Timothy Furey / Wrapt In The Wave

11th Nov – 17th Dec 2016

Ellis King
unit 7, white swan
donore avenue
dublin 8, ireland



 BITE ME

     There are a number of things in Timothy
Furey’s show Wrapt in The Wave that
remind me of a recently popularized art-label dubbed “Zombie Formalism”.
Firstly, there are of course the inanimate bodies populating the space, but
also the large canvases made to fit the gallery walls. This somewhat ironic
move, along with the fey Celtic knots, I will argue, constitute a timely
reaction to the term ‘Zombie Formalism’. As so many historicizing labels –
Gothic, Impressionism, Neue Sachlichkeit etc. etc. –  this one also did not come from the artists
themselves, and was made up to capture and denounce a loosely defined category
of practitioners. (As a side note, Furey is not implicated in the ongoing
discourse – as of yet.)
     The term was coined by artist Walter Robinson,
and has been further developed by critic Jerry Saltz, along with many others.
Its aesthetic may be defined as a type of ‘mechanical’ formalist gesture. It isn’t just high-brow art connoisseurs that have taken
the term to heart. Even edgy undercurrent writers use the term to express their
disgust for the inflated art market.
The reverberations of the term
have been broad and seem to have hit a nerve, its somewhat loose definition
notwithstanding.
In
Furey’s paintings there are elements which do not quite fit

the formal criteria of abstraction. Celtic pattern belongs at this
point much more in the realm of pop, of tattoos and street culture, even though
they stem from Celtic and Nordic traditions. They also appear to have
connections to early North African and Arabic art. This points to an earlier
form of globalization, and exemplifies in itself the semiotic mobility of
symbols.
     The lifeless, fragmented bodies that occupy
the space of Furey’s show are accompanied by their respective shipping crates.
These crates evoke the global trade and shipping that lies as a core within the
core of zombie formalism and globalism. In fact, the crates were not even used
to ship the works to the show. They were made on-site, invented by the artist
as a ploy to further underline this point.
    
As containers for lifeless bodies, the crates
also evoke the sarcophagus – the vessel of the dead destined for an eternal
afterlife, again pointing back to our ancients. It is perhaps interesting to
note here that the etymology of sarcophagus is Greek
sarkophagos ‘flesh-consuming’, from sarx, sark-flesh’ + -phagos ‘-eating’.[1]
     Zombies—being ever-present in our current
cultural era, suggest, with so many other contemporary tropes, a coming
apocalypse, as well as living in the subsequent post-apocalyptic aftermath. Their
manifestation in daily life can be found nearly everywhere, from exposed brick
to bespoke torn wallpaper and sourced wood bar desks, even ripped jeans and
destroyed denim. The image of scarcity isn’t just everywhere, it has even
become glamorous, like the fake patina that adores Furey’s sculptures.
     It is in this landscape that zombies have
re-emerged as a powerful symbol of a unified mass or perhaps swarm, that
threatens the remaining humans, society, social order, the heroes, the ones who
must fight for what remains of value. The precariousness of the heroes’
situation forces them into questionable ethical choices, both for the good of
all, but also for selfish gains. The psychological effects are hard-hitting,
damaging, if not completely devastating.
     The “god-father” of the contemporary zombie
figure is George A. Romero, who, with his first film “Night of the Living
Dead”, created the image we tend to think of when we think of zombies. His 3rd
or 4th film, Dawn Of The Dead, has a famous scene where zombies have
overrun the lower levels of a mall, and as a comic relief the zombies are seen
walking about in the mall, not unlike how regular humans would cruise it.
     In the much later movie Land of the Dead
from 2004, zombies play the role of insurgents in a working class uproar by
human slaves against the feudal, ruling elite spearheaded by Dennis Hopper’s
character.
     If we take Romero’s work with the concept of zombies as a foreshadowing of our own condition as zombies, then maybe it’s not so bad. Please bite
me.
Mikael
D.Brkic