It’s deceptive that Artworks are considered the natural expression of an idea.
Making a decision undergoes a genesis which is blind. Without visible form, not- image.
Therefore, paradoxically, mental pictures don't give rise to pictures. Its the latter that illuminates the former.
The Earth is the Earth, precisely because it is nothing other than the Earth. A terrible consensus. Imagine all the worlds it isn’t, an infinity.
When clambering over the countless little failures and could-have-beens which constitute each line or colour, (ordinarily described as making choices), the artist ends up loving the worlds concreteness.
In this acceptance there is the recognition of a more primordial starting point than the privileged ‘idea’.
An affirmation to do rather than not.
PRESS / REVIEWS
30 Sep 2015
SST :: FROM TIME BOMBS TO FRUIT BASKETS
In London the acceptance of sloppiness seems to be a form of radicalism, and the city loves politics in its art, whether in ironic or blatant forms. Sean Steadman’s recent exhibition at Project Native Informant was a good example of this. It showcased collaged paintings and drawings of coiling abstractions that are reminiscent of arteries, pipes, and tires from both organic and mechanical life forms. They are messy and some are utterly unattractive, but they have a push-away, anti-authority, anti-form that makes them feel interesting, albeit not fun to look at. This sense of a middle finger being given to the expected through the production of works, and an exhibition space knowing this yet still not caring, is the type of attitude that London artists and spaces do with aplomb, confidence, and a lack of irony, and that I have yet to see in other places.