|
Foraging through recycling bins is not an activity you'd expect from
one of New Zealand's most senior artists. But for Bill Culbert, who has
lived mainly in Europe since 1957, it was an ideal way to gather the
materials for his Auckland exhibition. "I was running around the
streets of Orakei trying to get around before the rubbish truck," he
says. "Six o clock in the morning, everyone's out jogging and walking
the dog and here's this joker going from bucket to bucket." There
is an ecological sensitivity that underlies Culbert's work and he
shudders at the thought of buying bulk cleaning products for an
exhibition and emptying them down the drain. "You put it into another
container and write on it, 'Not to be taken'." Culbert's work is
primarily made from found objects, including used bottles and
containers, old wheels, and lamps, most from the village dump near his
southern France home in Croagnes. "The whole idea of dumps and people
dumping and the exchange idea of usefulness - it's recycling in its
pure state. I used to think of them as meeting places, as places where
people went to get something they needed. If it was wood or metal or
things, there was a natural recycling. But there wasn't the waste that
we have now through production." Although Culbert's main interest
is light - and the vessels he finds provide a visual metaphor for
containing or pouring light - they also demonstrate the process of
consumer marketing, which complicates his gathering process. "The
use of plastics is extraordinary and is about selling, getting the
right colours for them to sell the product, and the design of the
bottle. I can't believe how often they change. One product will change
its range of colours to appeal. "My works are about pieces of time. It's stopping them, in a way."
To avert the obsolescence of potential materials, Culbert has amassed
at home a wall completely covered with shelves of plastic bottles.
"It's not that I collect, it's a matter of accumulating, really.
Because when you want them, it is useful to be able to pull them out -
like having a wine cellar, I suppose." Presumably, Culbert's wine
cellar rivals his collection of used containers. The substance
frequently appears in his work - particularly in the light wine things
exhibition now touring New Zealand - and adds a sociable sensibility to
his familiar, found objects. Seresin Wines' owner Michael Seresin
commissioned light wine things for an exhibition in Blenheim in 2003 to
showcase Culbert's photographic studies. Although featuring
images of wine glasses, a variety of old wine vessels and wheels, the
exhibition still focuses on Culbert's main interest - light. "My
primary exploration is about light - light-marks in space or
light-in-light, light in darkness, night-light, daylight, those kind of
things just intrigue me." Culbert studied painting when he began
at the Royal College of Art in London in 1957 but by the end of the
1960s he had moved into more ephemeral explorations. An example of one
of his first light-pieces features in the Art & the 60s exhibition
at Auckland Art Gallery. "With painting, I kind of felt limited by the
edges," he says. "The idea of composition was within these boundaries
and the sculptural aspects of working with light seemed much more
exciting, but without having the weight of the material necessary in
sculpture." Culbert has started working with neon tubing, the
most recent example being SkyBlues, a large public work of 21 lengths
of blue neon spiralling into the sky around 11m-high poles in
Wellington's Post Office Square. Culbert says SkyBlues is part of
a trilogy of public neon works, including Blue in Christchurch and
SkyLines in London, which play with lines of light moving through
space. Culbert, in New Zealand only briefly, has another large
neon installation to attend to in London's Canary Wharf. "It's a bit of
an intervention because it goes right through the building. One of the
neon lines spirals through and out the other side. And four other lines
inside the building. It's a bit scary, actually. It will be very
fragile. If it is permanent - we'll see." By Andrew Clifford
|