Glenn Barkley

26 Oct - 26 Nov

exhibition essay

itsallright

Most of my work is a response to the things around me, to popular song, the garden, conversations I have with people about art and the internet. I have made these work in Sydney and Berry.

When I am in the studio making things and really doing it I am thinking about things constantly.

Some parts of making my work are incredibly boring and monotonous but I still love it. Putting all those holes or sticking slip into the spaces left by the tools when I made them has its own kind of repetitious Zen state. I used to say be the slump but as I've kept making things now my ambition and abilities are starting to coalesce. Which is a bit of a shame really. I might start to take up throwing seriously.

Some of these pots also talk about older guys and the weird way they use the internet to tell everyone how unhappy they are. It's my wish that after they have had a go at someone the cancerous hate inside of them is coughed up like a fake witch doctor removing chicken giblet sized tumours from desperate sufferers. Some older ladies have been having a go too, so it's good to spread the hate around evenly.

My pots are my way of talking about the vitriol whilst making a bit of pocket money. You have to find subject matter somewhere. It's difficult to make something interesting out of random Facebook posts and Instagram comments but I've tried. The oncoming never ending digital death spiral will probably mean my pots will be one of the few ways of tracking what was happening in the digital realm during 2016. The irony of that I find quite compelling and amusing.

I am still completely embedded in the art world and I think these pots are like messages that can be read in the future Ars onga vita brevis. I worry about all the people doing kooky dancing, amateur-hour music and post-internet art. Where will their work end up? To paraphrase Robert MacPherson it's a fine line between the gallery and the rubbish dump.

But I am part of this stupidity also. My only saving grace is that once fired pots are pretty fixed and it's hard to get rid of them. You can destroy the form but it would take a real effort to grind the bits back to powder.

Even if the pots were shards they would be interesting. I read a lot about the past and look at the pots of the people who came before us - the old ones - now mainly in fragments. I think about the archaeologist V. Gordon Childe. ?He is the ghost that haunts these works.

When he jumped off a cliff in the Blue Mountains in an act of revolutionary suicide what went through his great mind? All that air, all the pots, the stuff of the past going through his head in the finite moment before the big forever.

?

Glenn Barkley, 2016

itsallright

Most of my work is a response to the things around me, to popular song, the garden, conversations I have with people about art and the internet. I have made these work in Sydney and Berry.

When I am in the studio making things and really doing it I am thinking about things constantly.

Some parts of making my work are incredibly boring and monotonous but I still love it. Putting all those holes or sticking slip into the spaces left by the tools when I made them has its own kind of repetitious Zen state. I used to say be the slump but as I've kept making things now my ambition and abilities are starting to coalesce. Which is a bit of a shame really. I might start to take up throwing seriously.

Some of these pots also talk about older guys and the weird way they use the internet to tell everyone how unhappy they are. It's my wish that after they have had a go at someone the cancerous hate inside of them is coughed up like a fake witch doctor removing chicken giblet sized tumours from desperate sufferers. Some older ladies have been having a go too, so it's good to spread the hate around evenly.

My pots are my way of talking about the vitriol whilst making a bit of pocket money. You have to find subject matter somewhere. It's difficult to make something interesting out of random Facebook posts and Instagram comments but I've tried. The oncoming never ending digital death spiral will probably mean my pots will be one of the few ways of tracking what was happening in the digital realm during 2016. The irony of that I find quite compelling and amusing.

I am still completely embedded in the art world and I think these pots are like messages that can be read in the future Ars onga vita brevis. I worry about all the people doing kooky dancing, amateur-hour music and post-internet art. Where will their work end up? To paraphrase Robert MacPherson it's a fine line between the gallery and the rubbish dump.

But I am part of this stupidity also. My only saving grace is that once fired pots are pretty fixed and it's hard to get rid of them. You can destroy the form but it would take a real effort to grind the bits back to powder.

Even if the pots were shards they would be interesting. I read a lot about the past and look at the pots of the people who came before us - the old ones - now mainly in fragments. I think about the archaeologist V. Gordon Childe. ?He is the ghost that haunts these works.

When he jumped off a cliff in the Blue Mountains in an act of revolutionary suicide what went through his great mind? All that air, all the pots, the stuff of the past going through his head in the finite moment before the big forever.

?

Glenn Barkley, 2016