"Poor Things" at Fruitmarket, Edinburgh: Sculpture and Class
By Beth James
Poor Things presents sculptures created by twenty-two artists working across the UK at Fruitmarket gallery in Edinburgh. The exhibition emerged through conversations between artists and friends Emma Hart and Dean Kenning which questioned art, specifically sculpture, and its relation to class in the UK. Poor Things acts as a starting point to engage viewers in a dialogue centred around the multiplicities of experiences across the UK through the intersection of social and cultural differences and divisions. Hart and Kenning sought artists from working-class and lower middle-class backgrounds to participate in Poor Things to explore the possibility of commonalities in their work – artistic process, themes, materials, and desired effect.
As an institution, the art world tends to remove artistic works from whatever context they have been created and recontextualise them as the privileged ‘art object,’ something sacred and separate from the everyday. Hart and Kenning wish to bridge the gap between the everyday and the exclusionary nature of the institution by displaying sculptures that are relatable and accessible to a broader audience – including the lower-middle class and working-class explicitly – that are usually isolated from traditional art systems. When one imagines sculpture, what is it that appears? Maybe a Classical marble figure? Or a bronze bust? A giant statue placed in the city centre to commemorate some old dead white guy? My guess is that for the average population, the image of a reified figure would come to mind. That is what would have come to my mind before I was properly introduced to the art world and began to unpick what should and could be considered art and who it was that had the authority to say so.
Rosie McGinn, Oblivion, (2021), wood, wire, printed lycra, hair, stuffing, thread, industrial fan. Photo: Tom Nola, Fruitmarket.
Poor Things deeply moved me. I felt moments of recognition and joy when encountering sculptures such as Rosie McGinn’s Oblivion (2021) (fig. 1) which depicts eight of their family and friends hanging on the ledge of the famous rollercoaster, an industrial fan blowing their hair and limbs about. Chila Burman’s Eat Me Now (2015) is a giant sparkling ice cream cone reminiscent of summer holidays spent by local the local seaside because going abroad was never an option. Burman’s sculpture also references their father’s move from Punjab to Liverpool and their work selling ice creams.
Dean Kenning, Renaissance Man, (2017), kinetic sculpture. Photo: Dean Kenning, Fruitmarket.
I also experienced familiar feelings of uneasiness. An uneasiness that creeps up, reminding you that you do not quite ‘belong’ and could make a wrong move at any time and people will figure you out. An uneasiness that there is always someone to answer to, someone who has control over the progress you can make. Dean Kenning’s Renaissance Man (2017) (fig. 3) is described as a “humiliated figure, it’s down on all fours like some sort of animal locked in a repetitive movement.” The sculpture tips forward as if bowing to something superior or as if stuck and unable to pick itself up and move forward. The hinges squeak and creak making the viewer feel uncomfortable in its presence. Some may find this sculpture comedic, however, it made me feel frustrated and upset. How I wish I could help this sculpture recognise that I understand! Kenning describes Renaissance Man as symbolising the struggle working-class artists go through – the struggle of working hard, harder than those born into privilege, and still seemingly making no progress. Renaissance Man also embodies the awkwardness one may feel when in a museum or gallery space – how is one supposed to act and react?
Poor Things visually addresses an issue that has been investigated over the last few years in scholarship – the disparity of social class of those working within the arts industry. This is not only limited to artists within the industry but also those in curation, academia, and business. While this is not a new problem, one may question why is an attempt to solve this relevant? When visiting a museum or gallery, or taking a trip to the theatre to see a play or a dance performance whose stories are being told? Who is represented? What is being left unsaid and forgotten? To reflect the plurality of human experiences within a diverse society, all voices should be heard and shared, not just those of the privileged few who have been exempt from oppression or discrimination based upon sex, gender, race, ability, or class. In 2019, the study Panic! Social Class, Taste, and Inequalities in the Creative Industries shared their findings, conducted by sociologists from the Universities of Edinburgh and Sheffield, that only eighteen percent of workers in the creative industries have a working-class background, and that this number is getting smaller over time.
Rebecca Moss, Thick-Skinned, (2019), film: three minutes and fifty-two seconds. Photo: Rebecca Moss, Fruitmarket.
Rebecca Moss, Home Improvement, (2021), film: five minutes and nine seconds. Photo: Rebecca Moss.
Rebecca Moss’ films Thick-Skinned (2019) (fig. 4) and Home Improvement (2021) (fig. 5) depict the artist in situations of extreme discomfort. Thick-Skinned shows the artist covered in multi-coloured balloons, literally from head to toe. She walks across an empty field towards the camera and finally we see her struggle to climb through a fence with barbed wiring, bursting balloons as she goes. Home Improvement places the artist in her back garden, she sits on a chair with two clothes hangers, two buckets, and two full watering cans on either side of her. Moss inserts the hooks of the hangers into her mouth and places her feet upon a plank of wood tipping the watering cans to pour water into the buckets. The buckets are attached by a rope to the clothes hangers and as they fill up, Moss’ mouth is pulled into a disturbing smile. With the buckets becoming heavier, the viewer can see the discomfort on Moss’ face, and in her bodily response, growing until it is too much, and she pulls the hangers from her mouth. These films captured the struggle of the working-class in the art world for me. The physical and mental discomfort one puts themselves through to participate in an industry that was not built to support or nurture them.
Hart and Kennings exhibition creates an important context in which one can encounter sculptures made by artists from working-class and lower middle-class backgrounds. Materials and themes are accessible and relate to the multiplicities experienced by a diverse society. Fruitmarket allows for a space that encourages those who feel that art is held at a distance to come closer, respond in any way one knows how, and to know that everyone is welcome.
Poor Things is at Fruitmarket, Edinburgh, until 21st of May 2023.
Bibliography
Brook, Orian, David O’Brien, and Mark Taylor. 2018. “Panic! Social Class, Taste, and Inequalities in the Creative Industries.” https://createlondon.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/Panic-Social-Class-Taste-and-Inequalities-in-the-Creative-Industries1.pdf.
“Hear from the Artists in Poor Things.” Fruitmarket. Accessed March 16, 2023. https://www.fruitmarket.co.uk/hear-from-the-artists/.
Pinnington, Mike. 2019. “Why the Silence Around Class and the Art World Needs to be Broken.” ELEPHANT. September 3, 2019. https://elephant.art/class-visual-arts-barriers-need-broken/.
“Poor Things.” Fruitmarket. Accessed March 16, 2023. https://www.fruitmarket.co.uk/poor-things/.