The Institute of Contemporary Arts at first seems a strange place for a cynical and modern-art loathing artist such as Billy Childish to have his first major art exhibition. It’s situated on the Mall, London, metres from royalty, and in a lofty and highbrow gallery.
On the opening night, the arty types flood for their preview of the show. Their backs are mostly turned to the art as they giggle in little gaggles. Childish is the black sheep in the crowd. He is the working-class, anti-establishment hero, now uncomfortably mixing with a new breed.
Albeit, however high-brow the ICA may seem, it is undeniable that they have encompassed the entity of Childish’s life in an admirable way, regardless of the setting.
The Medway born and bred maverick has a history of rejection in the art industry and amongst many critics who have slammed his work as being ‘amateur’, but this compilation of work, screams out that this is no longer the case.
His wide-ranging career has been split into sections. The lower gallery displays his most recent paintings, whilst the upper displays a mixture of his poetry, music and film making that have been produced across his extensive career.
His paintings are highly reflective of his own persona, and often feature himself. They are usually produced in a few weeks of the year, crammed together, which is reflected in the harsh and heavy brush strokes. He paints quick and often simplistic, but the results are eye-catching and emotive.
He often returns to drawing solitary figures in landscapes in oil on the large canvases. Three of his paintings show the progress of the death of Robert Walser, a noted inspirational character to Childish. The paintings are produced from the police photographs. They capture the lonely sole of Walser; a man who loved long walks and was coincidently found dead in a field of snow on one of them.
Childish’s paintings are eerie. They are incredibly stylistic, with links to the German artist Georg Baselitz. The thick and short flecks of paint capture the brevity of his last moments and focus on an unavoidable portrayal of misery in the worn face, down-turned eyes and luminous, yellow outline of the lonely subject.
Other influences of Childish’s work come from the early modernist painters like Edvard Munch, Mikhail Larinov and Karl Schmidt-Rottluff. At times, it also bears a striking resemblance to Van Gogh’s work and his similar self-destructing ways.
Originally, Childish was rejected from art school, which crushed his dream of creating art like Gogh; instead he was forced to work in the Dockyard in Chatham; rising at 6.30am to a job he despised. One day, out of frustration and anger, he took a 3lb club hammer and purposely smashed his own hand, resulting in him leaving work for good.
His younger life and experiences at the Dockside is another main feature in his paintings and poetry of his life.
He publishes most of his own prose and poetry to avoid unnecessary editing from others. He is keen to keep in his own spelling mistakes, not viewing dyslexia as a handicap.
As you leave the lower gallery and progress upstairs you are faced with more depressing declarations, painted on wooden boards. The presence of suicidal and self-deprecating thoughts are clear as you wander down. He appears stuck in self-pity with his art as the only form of release. If you continue down the hall, you will be met by an extensive range of Childish’s musical output.
He has collaborated with many different people, but the music is always raw and injected with a punk-rock flavour. Much of his work features short explosions of vocals, guitar and drums. There is also a hint of traditional blues added in with a sound of cheap production.
The wall is covered in over 100 full-length LPs, with some incredibly rare pieces. The music provides a fitting backdrop to the exhibition and Childish’s hotheaded ways.
Once more the idea of mainstream music has been rejected from his work. Despite popular interest in his music, he has always favoured a simple and non-expensive means of production. The sound that it has been recorded in a local garage reflects his distaste of the corrupt ways of the music industry.
On the other side of the room is Childish’s less well-known work in film. Childish was once a member of the Super-8 Cinema Group, which uses a second-hand camera to shoot simplistic films.
In the adjoining room, at the front is a large wooden placard drawing attention to Childish’s depressive, alcoholic and disturbed thoughts. The walls are littered in his misspelt poetry, which are highly autobiographical. They are splashed openly on the white walls, whilst other pieces are locked away in cabinets covering the floor.
The whole exhibition is an interesting one, titled Unknowable but Certain. Childish might finally be accepted as being non-amateur now, but he states that he doesn’t care, at least now he is not invisible.
The exhibition runs until April 18th 2010.
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