I was invited to the Royal College of Art Online Degree Show Private Viewing… with mixed emotions
Early yesterday afternoon, I received a message. I was sent the Zoom link to the Royal College of Art’s 2020 degree show presentation, and the password to access the website for the private viewing.
At 6pm sharp, I joined the Zoom conference call to listen to the various heads of programme introduce the works of the graduating students this year, and what could be expected from the digital exhibition. I say listen… what I mean is ‘play in the background whilst I attended to my instant noodles boiling in a pot’. Despite my initial efforts to be attentive and engaged with the speakers and what they had to say, I found the presentations exceedingly boring and lacklustre, save for a delightful five-minute talk by the Head of Programme for the MA Photography course, Olivier Richon.
In his short presentation, Richon emphasised that he would not be providing a sneak peek into the photography students’ works. To justify this decision, he quoted Roland Barthes: ‘in order to see a photograph well, it is best to close your eyes…’ though he of course encouraged the invisible Zoom audience to peruse the exhibition and spend time with the artworks on view after the video conference was complete. Instead, Richon brought in the flavours of philosophy and theory to his presentation, as he moved on to discuss the theories of Jacques Derrida, who wrote that humanity experiences ghosts in the form of technology: photography and film, at the time of Derrida’s writing, and today in the form of Zoom, Instagram and online viewing rooms. Ghosts haunt us, as the coronavirus pandemic haunts the prospects of the art world and the future of the Class of 2020. But they are also light, and ghost stories are exceedingly popular.
The presentations, other than Richon’s short snippet, were not worth bothering with.
Figure 1: Roei Greenberg, Spectre. 120x150cm. Archival pigment print. 2019. Edition of 3
So then, on to the degree show website itself. To be sure, the interface and navigation of the website is simple enough. One can view artists and artworks according to programme (MA Painting, MA Ceramics and Glass, MA Print, etc.), or else browse a whole list of students directly. What I found most interesting, however, were the series of collections on offer, organised and arranged by a star-studded list of guest curators. I’m talking photographer Andreas Gursky (who holds the record for the most expensive photograph sold at auction at a whopping $4.3 million at Christie’s in 2011), fashion designer Anya Hindmarch, and Editor-in-Chief of British Vogue, Edward Enninful.
Though these guest-curated collections did indeed present some excellent works by students (Gursky, in particular, was extremely stringent with his selection, choosing only three photographers for his collection: Yilin Shi, Roei Greenberg, and Qian Jiang), I have to say these collections were more interesting in the fact that they revealed the tastes and personalities of the celebrity curators in question, rather than giving the individual students a spotlight.
Where the collections really became interesting were in the more thematic ones, curated by students or else unattributed. With these themed collections, it is easy for viewers to select the topics they are interested in and dive right into the works. I, myself, for example, was immediately attracted to the ‘Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, B, A, Start’ collection, which focussed on the theme of gaming. The pastel, animated 3-D digital models and landscapes, or the nostalgia of 8-bit aesthetics and Street Fighter-esque graphics, pulled at me on a deep emotional and aesthetic level. Artists Kamola Askarova, Kyriacos Christofides and Knuka Knayu were the stars of this show, as far as I’m concerned.
Figure 2: Kamola Askarova, Still Life: Digital Obesity
And what of the individual student profiles? Overall, I find them safely good. The students have generally done satisfactory work in adapting to current circumstances and creating a page that reflects them and their practice. Some student pages are incredibly simple—just an artist’s statement, links to a website and social media channels, and images of artworks. Others, however, took the opportunity to create a wholistic vision of what their work is about. Most notably, Garett Pruter. Pruter takes advantage of the digital platform to present a mise-en-scène of his work’s ethos. By presenting video works, photographs of installations (his series ‘D&D Advertising’ is incredibly witty and immersive—even when viewed from your sofa), and texture shots of some of his photographic, painterly and sculptural work, Pruter hits multiple senses—sight, of course, sound, even touch and smell as one’s sensorial memory is triggered upon viewing images of a sparse corporate conference room, or a pile of 1450 photographs of a bouquet of flowers (one can almost smell the paper). In instances like these, the viewer is almost thankful that there is the opportunity to view each student profile individually online, and really get to know the artist’s work without the distractions of neighbouring artworks, a room crowded with people, or the open bar.
Figure 3: Garrett Pruter, Screensaver (searching). Digital video, computer, bouquet, desk, Eames executive office chair. 2020.
Emphasis on ‘almost thankful’.
Despite the students’ best efforts, I can’t help but feel a slight bitter taste in my mouth as I look through the artworks and collections on e-display. To be sure, little can be done during the time of COVID-19, and migration to online platforms for exhibitions, art fairs and auctions has been a necessity these past few months. However, the retaliation of the RCA class of 2020 towards an online degree show was heavily documented a few months ago, with the likes of The Guardian and The Art Newspaper publishing articles about the outcry and the petition calling for a postponement of courses signed by nearly 5000 people. Nothing, it seems, was done to listen to the frustrations and dissatisfactions of the students.
No postponement, no refund, no retribution. I know, therefore, whilst scrolling and clicking at my leisure, the online initiative was a huge reluctance for many of the artists presented. It isn’t what they wanted to do, but they had no choice. The least the RCA could do, in my humble opinion, is to refund part of the tuition fees to the students. Without access to the studios and facilities that the RCA provides, many students were forced to rent out studios independently. The students who couldn’t afford new working spaces were forced to create works in tiny London flats or back home, with limited access to materials and—let’s face it—a wet blanket on their creative juices that almost all of us have experienced at one point during lockdown.
It therefore seems even more imperative to support the RCA Class of 2020 as much as possible. Take a look at the online degree show, which is now open to the public, at www.2020.rca.ac.uk. If you are able, buy an artwork! Everything on display is for sale, though a portion of the sale will be returned to the RCA in order to fund next year’s courses. Follow the artists you like on Instagram, and keep up with their practices. Coronavirus or not, these artists are the next generation of creators, and now is as good a time as any to uplift our fellow creatives and makers, and make it through the pandemic together.
Vienna Kim,
Head of Interviews, MADE IN BED