Saturday, November 18, 2017

Grayson Perry: Man in a Dress: Part Two...



The Missus discovered pottery in her late forties and, by a process of osmosis, I have become much more familiar with all things ceramic. So a pilgrimage to Bernard Leach's studio in St Ives and various trips to the twice-yearly Art in Clay exhibition means I have absorbed a bit of love for the art.

The best thing about absorbing somebody else's love for something is that things can catch you by surprise much more easily, like a kiss you weren't expecting, and so it was with Grayson Perry. 

I've been aware of Grayson for a while. The self-proclaimed potter (rather than the more high-art term, ceramicist) won the Turner Prize in 2003, then he delivered a fantastic set of Reith Lectures in 2013, where he discussed the state of the modern art world. As a former community and youth arts worker, his discussion on what represented the boundaries of the art world – and how the gate-keepers of those boundaries kept the idea of folk or community art firmly at the gates – chimed with me.

As the Missus is a huge fan, I've also watched his many TV shows where he examines issues such as masculinity, then goes through his process and explains how he creates his artistic response to those issues, be it in clay, quilt or other massive artwork.

So I had quite high hopes for his recent show, Grayson Perry: Man in a Dress: Part Two, at the London Palladium and I wasn't disappointed. He's a very human, very funny and very engaging raconteur, whose explanations and discussions kept everyone entertaining for a few hours. 

Even better, the Missus sent a tweet in with picture of her at a potter's wheel in Greece in a response for pre-show audience interaction, and a huge version of this appeared on a  screen behind Grayson about 20 minutes into the second half. I was stunned and she was utterly delighted. He also said some nice stuff about what she'd tweeted, too. 

I remain convinced that Grayson Perry is not only a massively talented and important artist, but he's also a thoroughly decent bloke. And, in an age of vaccuous celebrity, that basic requirement of somebody I really like matters.

So, please keep on trucking (well, biking or motorbiking), fella. You remain loved at Brooks Towers.