Frieze Week - Day 1
A report on the first day of the massive fair, plus an interview with Norwegian artist Erik Tidemann.
- Text Francesca Gavin
Preparing for this week is a bit like training for the marathon: except everyone’s wearing insane shoes and downing cocktails. Thousands of art fans will be racing around the city in a visual frenzy. Seeing everything is futile. There were more than 25 openings at London galleries on Tuesday alone. The city was split between East and West – a bit of edge and dose of glamour. Yayoi Kusama had a private zen-like opening for her Japanese faithful at Victoria Miro, Rita Ackermann opened at Hotel but the only busy opening in the east was for young group show The Future Can Wait at the Truman Brewery. It was surprisingly good, with giant paintings from Gordon Cheung, darkly funny penis’n’shit drawings from James Unsworth, and a stuffed dog sculpture from the multitalented Norwegian artist Erik Tidemann. I raced west in an attempt to catch the end of Conrad Shawcross’ mad-scientist style installations at Selfridges. I failed to get there in time, so headed over to the Lisson Gallery party at a disused church opposite Great Portland Street tube. (Critics are comparing how many openings they managed to cane in one night – Time Out’s Ossian Ward won at five.) Jarvis Cocker was DJing, an old fishmonger from Margate was serving oysters, and and Chris Cunningham, Farris Rotter and Matthew Stone were sampling the free booze. You need a strong liver to survive the main attraction tomorrow – Frieze itself.
A Q&A with Erik Tidemann
This Slade graduate
has a thing for dead animals and strange rituals. The young artist's
done everything from sculpture to performance to drawings - all with a
brilliant narrative edge.
Dazed Digital: What interests you about using animals in your work?
Erik Tidemann:
All creatures have their symbolism, and that gives different feel to
them. Wolfs are aggressive and sheep are innocent. Of course I use the
animal that is right for every tale. I like the word 'tale' when I
make projects. Like the show becomes some visual ride into a storyline
as you read a book but with no words and specific explanation. I’ve
used sheep based on the Gospel of St. John, and spiders for death.
DD: What are you showing at The Future Can Wait?
ET:
In The Future Can Wait I give an alternative burial to my dog that died
this June. He is standing on two legs with his eyes closed like some
small soldier. He is holding a Paris Hilton-ish glittery fur bag
containing his ashes. So he is carrying his insides. What I like about
this piece is the fact I will always have my dog and can move around
with him after he is dead and I don't need to go to his burial spot
without being able to see and feel him. It's a sort of a portable grave.
DD: There's a lot of death and violence in your work.
ET: Death
might be a big - maybe main - word for my practice. I don’t like saying
that, as it might sound so daft and boy-fantasyish. But I know my
violent drawings came full on after my father died. I tried to be more
honest, using more of those elements again. The years of graffiti
brought loads of close people in the scene around me down. Around the
years 2000/2001 many young graffiti writers died of overdoses and
suicides. Norway is also suffocating from winter depressions in the
cold dark days from November to March and has some of the world’s
highest suicide rates. Every year some dude I know about kills himself.

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