24 November 2011

Art I like - Ado Hamerlyck

Another of the (possible) case studies for my essay on writing/drawing arises from a chance find - an illustration in  Artist's BookYearbook: 2010-2011. It turned out to be the work of Belgian artist Ado Hamelryck, written as the first book for the new library of the city of Genk, Belgium. It is the symbolic foundation stone of the building - a blank book presented to him by the mayor, and when filled, the first book purchased for the library. This modern object acts as a historical marker and draws on a long tradition relevant to its destination.
Thus the book format is important not only in relation to the artist's practice. Close up, the writing turns out to be "nonsense" - or some sort of personal code - not readable to the uninitiated. Yet the blocks of text in swathes and columns signalling its meant-to-be-read function. Pages with many columns resemble magazine pages; often it looks like there is space for an illustration, as solid ground replaces the marks. The book is painstakingly handwritten, and imbued with the personality of the maker; it contains over 200 pages, and provides much variation, yet is a unified object. Sometimes the background breaks away from the rectangular shape, and the background emphasises the fact that the text is overlaid on a surface. In this work, the act of "writing" becomes a code for participation in literate (or even scholarly) culture - but the "nonsense" of the result would dismay a scholar looking for information and meaning. Yet to someone who can "read art", the book has many meanings or resonances - palimpsest, artefact, parody, aesthetic object. Its references are to the whole history and panoply of written and printed books.


Hamelryck's work is minimal but not minimalist. His paintings, drawings and reliefs consist of black marks, repetitively applied to a surface, creating seemingly monochrome black areas, but with an unexpected richness in texture and tonality. In the late 60s - the heyday of conceptual art - he started reducing the forms and colours in his work, until he came to work in only black. The mysterious quality of the work is important: "In our Western society we want to demystify everything. This is partly due to science. But especially fear. We want security. Art doesn't supply that."

He says: "Matter, space and time are very important in my work. The feel of the pen in the inkwell, air to the paper, then during the 'writing' it can drain - this is already an interpretation of these three dimensions. When I "write" I think even further into space, because the support onto which I pen characters, creates a physical boundary. But my 'writing' has no literary content....It has no narrative or decorative value. It's just what it is."
In 1998 the Flemish Parliament bought his "Five drawings on black paper" made with ink, conte crayon, and graphite. At first they seem to contain only noise, but the interaction between the two types of pencil, texture and brightness can only be the product of a deliberate, albeit intuitive creative process. The artist allows the observer to see the actions that form the basis of his drawings.

"In the beginning it was black." Black is dominant in Hamelryck's work - he is constantly looking for new ways to express it as a vivid colour.  "Drawing" does not perfectly describe these artworks; located on the border between drawing and text, they evoke associations with ancient, mythical writing, like Babylonian cuneiform. The series shows a clear intertextuality: the five drawings can be seen as a structured whole, with similarities and differences. All contain the same patient, diagonally structured, repetitive structure, and can be arranged from bright to dull.

In April this year he had a retrospective in Genk - entitled "Not a black, but blacks twenty-seven I assure you." - of his 35 years' use of the colour black (a colour with a turbulent history - the colour of the devil - formerly artists dared not use black; Hamelryck's whole career has been dedicated to overcoming the fear of black); also, he sees use of black as austerity and purification, a quest for essence. He talks about new audiences: "In all the years I am active, there was always only a selective audience for such exhibitions. Now a new kind of middle class has formed, who are also interested in art. It is too early to know what I think  of this."

The work is characterized by Hamelryck's involvement, repetitive motion and control of material and technique. The subtle relief operation, the repetition and the play of light and shadow beyond the level of minimalism and the mysterious writing are most strongly reflected in his beautiful pen drawings and books. They show a wealth of tone and texture and the endless possibilities and beauty of black.

He usually works on huge sheets of handmade Nepalese paper, but in 2000, and again in 2009, collaborated with ceramicist (and teaching colleague) Piet Stockmans. He has also worked on old printing plates with unconventional tools: hammers, screwdrivers, chisels and even nails, making thousands of repetitive notches, holes and dents. The plates are inked, and the ink is selectively removed. The making and printing of the plate are independent, but interact -

He was asked: "You draw with a balloon pen [a dip pen]. Until the sixties, that was used only in school for writing. Why the material?" to which he replied: "I think it's an extremely useful writing tool because by pressing more or less, you can control the exact thickness of your lines. Also it has an auditory aspect. The scratching of a balloon pen gives you an almost physical connection with your work." He gets these old (fountain) pens from antique markets.

His work in graphite has a sensual side, tempting the unsuspecting view to touch it - and have their hands blackened. The obsessiveness of the work, he said in an interview, takes him "to a certain stage of rest" - and he works from 9 to 5, a disciplined schedule, needing no muse.

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