Why do we consider it an insult to call somebody a whore? Do we imply that there is something degrading about being one? The word âprostituteâ is so firmly fossilised in our linguistic systems as âbadâ that this insult, meaningless as it is, persists as a verbal defence mechanism even amongst the most progressive people. The whore, the essentially despicable woman, exists in language only because of the one who gives his name to this exhibition; the conservative divinity invented by the English poet William Blake, Urizen. Dissecting the fabric of reality with his compass, this old bearded man undertakes the enormous task of dividing the world into fixed categories. For Blake, Urizen is a malevolent figure. He wages war on the poetics generated by confusion by imposing baseless and often outdated taxonomies. Although obsolete, these taxonomies continue to impose themselves onto reality at the speed of light: like the whore, or like the zombie police officers speeding down an admonishing index finger in Justin Fitzpatrickâs painting âSeeds of Urizen (Frieze!)â.
In his second solo exhibition at the gallery, Justin Fitzpatrickâs paintings show us the persistent and delirious circulation of â Urizianâ categories, as well as the feelings of shame and fear they bring forth. Laws, social networks, rumours, and tics of language are all revealed as the bearers of Urizenâs judgements: sealed, discrete entities, easily digestible and potentially deadly. These judgements, embedded in language, act like viruses. They mimetically replicate themselves from one body to another, from the individual to the group. They can infect the auditory system (âStage Design for a Musical About Paranoiaâ), or a torso and its intestinal flora (âThe Evolution of Anxietyâ). The bodies and objects depicted by Justin Fitzpatrick are in the middle of metamorphosis. External energies are relentlessly manipulating and mortifying their flesh, and transforming the networks of their minds.
Inspired by a modern and playful range of visual references linked to the idea of production (from socialist realism to advertising) ; the artist reveals the inner workings of the performative machinery of categorisation. Although often absurd, carceral and inherently restrictive, categorisation ( as a part of creative and critical projects) can also be emancipatory. When it is excessively applied, however, or starts to be used systematically or unthinkingly, it often becomes convoluted, labyrinthine and paranoid. In an age of post-truth, mass surveillance, and the collapse of grand narratives, paranoia is no longer the preserve of unhinged people, geniuses, and addicts. We have all become paranoid, and Justin Fitzpatrick is no exception. As a gay artist, his ear is definitely attuned to judgement and labels. A cross between a circus, merry-go-round, and psychosomatic opera, this exhibition is therefore an attempt to exorcise Urizen, who, when faced with a climate of uncertainty and a crisis of trust, offers us an archaic system of order that enslaves us.
â Julie Ackermann
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En quoi serait-il une injure de traiter quelquâun de pute et donc systĂ©matiquement dĂ©gradant dâen ĂȘtre une ? Lâarrimage de la prostituĂ©e Ă la catĂ©gorie « du mal » sâest tellement fossilisĂ©e dans la langue que cette insulte (aussi vide et discriminante soit-elle) persiste dans les rĂ©flexes de dĂ©fense verbale, mĂȘme chez les plus progressistes. Cette pute, en tant que femme mĂ©prisable par essence, existe en raison de celui qui donne son nom Ă lâexposition, Urizen, divinitĂ© conservatrice inventĂ©e par le poĂšte anglais William Blake. Tranchant dans la matiĂšre du rĂ©el avec son compas, Urizen, vieux mĂąle barbu, opĂšre au grand partage du monde en catĂ©gories rigides. Chez Blake, il revĂȘt un caractĂšre malĂ©fique. Combattant la poĂ©sie Ă©manant de la confusion, il fixe des taxonomies parfois datĂ©es et infondĂ©es. MalgrĂ© leur obsolescence, elles continuent de sâimposer au rĂ©el Ă la vitesse de lâĂ©clair, comme cette pute ou les policiers-zombies dĂ©valant la piste du doigt inquisiteur du tableau « Seeds of Urizen ( Frieze!) » de Justin Fitzpatrick.
Pour sa seconde exposition personnelle Ă la galerie, Justin Fitzpatrick met en scĂšne la persistance et la circulation dĂ©lirante des catĂ©gories « uriziennes » et des sentiments de honte et de peur qui en dĂ©coulent. On le comprend vite : lois, rĂ©seaux sociaux, rumeurs, ou encore tics de langage sont les messagers des jugements dâUrizen, entitĂ©s scellĂ©es, facilement digestibles et potentiellement mortifĂšres. Elles apparaissent comme autant de virus qui se dupliquent par mimĂ©tisme dâun corps Ă un autre, d'un individu Ă un groupe. Ils infectent ainsi un systĂšme auditif (« Stage design for a Musical about paranoĂŻa »), un torse et sa fleur intestinale (« The Evolution of Anxiety »). Les corps et les objets reprĂ©sentĂ©s par Justin Fitzpatrick sont en pleine mĂ©tamorphose : des Ă©nergies pĂ©trissent et sclĂ©rosent sans relĂąche leur chair et les dĂ©dales de leur esprit.
InspirĂ© par une iconographie moderne, productiviste et ludique (du rĂ©alisme socialiste Ă la publicitĂ©), lâartiste rĂ©vĂšle les rouages de la machinerie performative (tantĂŽt absurde, carcĂ©rale mais aussi Ă©mancipatrice) de la catĂ©gorisation. Cette derniĂšre soutient le projet crĂ©ateur et critique mais lorsquâelle est excessive, mimĂ©tique et systĂ©mique, elle peut prendre des allures labyrinthiques, hallucinatoires et se muter en paranoĂŻa. Avec la surveillance de masse, la post-vĂ©ritĂ© et lâeffondrement des grands rĂ©cits, la paranoĂŻa nâest en effet plus lâapanage du fou, du gĂ©nie ou de lâaddict. Nous sommes tous paranos et Justin Fitzpatrick nây Ă©chappe pas. Artiste gay, il confie ĂȘtre vulnĂ©rable au jugement et aux processus de labellisation. Cirque, manĂšge ou opĂ©ra psychosomatique, son exposition sâapparente alors Ă une tentative dâexorcisation dâUrizen, cette Ă©pidĂ©mie renouvelant lâasservissement Ă des ordres archaĂŻques et lĂ©nifiants dans un climat de perte de repĂšres et de crise de la confiance.
Julie Ackermann