Repose at William Hine Gallery
Repose. Defined as a "temporary rest or cessation from physical or mental exertion in order to recover one's energy" (Oxford English Dictionary), the way in which we consider pausing from the hustle and grind culture we are immersed in has changed drastically since the turn of the century. Repose is directly opposed to the psychological processes of work under capitalism. If we are to be the ultimate competitors in the workplace, rest must be quick and, ultimately, still productive in its own way, such as going to the gym to make sure you're in the best physical state for the market, or meditation apps funded by employers so that you can come back to work after your breakdown to hustle harder. In a world where social media is a significant part of work and "rest", deep repose may actually be an alien concept to many of us.
Despite their proximity to capitalism and their own 'market', art galleries being located in highly residential, and traditionally working-class areas is a meeting of worlds that isn't always as exclusionary as it might seem. This isn't something to be taken uncritically, as there is a significant gentrification project behind many different art settings, but having been raised in south east London and a great lover of contemporary art, having free-entry exhibitions within the community is something to be enjoyed. William Hine Gallery has been based in Camberwell since its opening in 2024, and I would love to see the space engaging with its communities in different ways as it grows, much like the successful engagement programmes from local galleries Gasworks and South London Gallery, for example.
Jai Chuhan is the first artist whose work I was drawn to. The textures in the paintings, such as Intoxicated Woman, feel like they came straight from something divine, located between the artist's source of inspiration and her soul. This is also an immediate challenge to how we might perceive rest and repose; the painting seems to be depicting an intoxicated woman urinating in the street, squatting with no clothes on, which is itself an intimate act, but the pensive, if not crestfallen expression on the woman's face tells another story, as does the bright and overstimulating environment in which the woman sits. Impressions of intoxication are usually determined by an individual's class or social standing, as to whether it is considered fun and sociable, or chronic and alienating. Here, we see Chuhan's woman lost in thought, taking a rest from not only the chaos of the day, but also from the social parameters of what is and is not permissible in public spaces. Visually, a form of contemporary impressionism is pervasive through the texture, which invites further looking.
Moving across the space, and I was already familiar with Nahem Shoa's work, so was pleased to see it again in a group setting. The piece, Gbenga Sleeping, from 1998, still looks incredibly fresh, but I couldn't overlook the ways in which the figure's pose of rest seemed contrived. I wasn't convinced that this was a painting of Gbenga sleeping, but of Gbenga posing as if he might be sleeping. This may, then, be a nod to art history, showing the chiseled body of Shoa's sitter, the strength in which he sits and rests. While there is a very reasonable and progressive argument that the art historical canon is outdated, Shoa's work deserves to sit alongside the great works in portraiture. Strong technical skills alongside a distinctive style of portrait positions the artist as a sharp voice in the future of the genre. Again, intimacy lies at the heart of the work; whether the figure is really asleep or not, the private act has been captured.
It is important for artists with different lived experiences are brought into the conversation of 'rest', breaking through the narrative that such a thing is reserved for the bourgeois or the lazy. Marcia Michael's work channels her Black matrilineal heritage, and in doing so rethinks the Three Graces mythology, with the daughters of Zeus representing (respectively) youth and beauty, joy, and elegance. A supporting essay from co-curator Matthew Holman quotes Michael, who says that her "mother's body...bared the possibilities of being and becoming a vessel, a depository...a paradigm of an archive that merges the past with the future into the present, whilst breathing in and breathing out existence". This is both active and restful work, emphasising that the body as archive persists whether we are productive, active, or indulge in the rest that we desperately need to function. For me, I was repeatedly drawn to spend more time with Michael's triptych; the richness of the Black, feminist, matrilineal stories, aesthetics, and concepts is magnetic in its ability draw the viewer in. With references to Roman and Greek mythology with a Black feminist twist, Michaels creates a work that sits firmly within the historical and the contemporary.
Another work I found to be truly mesmerising was Pink Silhouette by Sara Rossberg, from 1999. Located facing the door as the viewer enters the space, Rossberg's figure seems to look back into the gallery, silently existing while parts of their body somehow dissolve into their surroundings. There is a sense of the spectral about Pink Silhouette, only reinforced by its nameless subject and their likeness to Derek Jarman. In terms of materiality, acrylic paint is complemented by the physicality of acrylic atop the canvas, bringing the body of the figure closer to the space of the viewer. It is haunting and beautiful, and evokes a spiritual form of repose.
Whether this is a physical rest or something closer to the spiritual, what Repose shows us is that separating our mind, body, and spirit from the capitalist grind is essential. We can observe and learn different things from the various artists, from tuning into our own ancestral wisdom, divesting from the male gaze, or positioning ourselves in the spaces we want to be welcomed into. These are spiritual and energetic commitments, and ones that bring new value into the art we encounter.
