Habitual - Review
Chris Waywell - Time Out
In the spirit of new year, new you, Deptford’s Castor has done some spring cleaning, built a big plywood box and stuck a load of art in it. It’s like a giant plan chest tipped on its side. You pull out the drawers to display the works, a few at a time.
It’s a canny device, swerving the conventional, tired group show, where whoever shouts the loudest controls the room, and where you mentally calculate how much time you need to spend with any artist who isn’t your mate. It also makes you interact with the pieces in unusual, role-playing ways. If you’re the one pulling out the drawers, you’re put into the role of curator, doing the big reveal. If you’re sitting on the bench out front, you’re the critic or the collector... read more
Habitual - Review
Sonja Teszler - This is tomorrow
... instead of a conventional commercial group exhibition, ‘Habitual’ unfolds within the theatrical setting of a compulsive collector’s storage solution. The exhibition text written by David Northedge is a humorous inner monologue of said collector (rich with tongue-in-cheek puns such as “I’d simply buy-curious”). It’s a manic confessional about his or her obsessive tendencies, comparing art collecting to a kind of infectious disease or addiction, while simultaneously serving as a clever and suggestive introduction of the specific works of art in the exhibition... read moreAlan Magee: Data Dust, Dust Data - Review
Rebecca Morrill - This Is Tomorrow
Periodically, in curatorial and museological circles, studies appear and debates rage about why an exhibition visitor is more likely to turn left or turn right upon entering a gallery space. Some believe the decision to be driven by an individual’s innate predisposition or their cultural background, while others think it is dictated by the display itself – the curator’s choice. Upon entering ‘Data Dust, Dust Data’, Alan Magee’s second exhibition at Castor Projects, the visitor is immediately confronted by two contrasting artworks: go left towards a hanging, high-tech exhibit that includes a tangle of wires and exposed circuitry and a motionless robotic arm, or right towards a chest-height, curvilinear plinth topped with black foam and displaying a dozen small, pinkish objects... read moreMiriam Naeh: Tall Tales, Tall Tails - Review
Cara Bray - Boundary
Walking into Miriam Naeh’s ‘Tall Tales, Tall Tails,’ I’ve stumbled across the remnants of a scene I’m not so sure if I’m supposed to have seen. In the centre of the room, a burnt out fire not so long ago extinguished, reveals small skeletal bones settled amongst glowing embers and discarded objects, ashes consuming the final particles of life.Five white plinths surround the middle space, harbouring habitual evidence of unfamiliar life forms that remain unmoved since my entrance. Bulging bodies ooze eerily from behind the painted surfaces, unable to fully contain their swollen, lumpy mass. Nostrils, nipples, toes and tongues creep outwardly from dark holes, searching blindly for a hint of presence, whilst videos implanted inside the plinths beckon me to move closer, but still offer no explanation of the narrative on display... read more
