Exhibition. Not From Here. 22th-27th Sept 2014

37 Duke st St James SW1 6FD
OPEN 12-5

These works pay homage to a desolate yet stimulating urban landscape, as captured by an artist whose palette is influenced by the ultra rural, the lush green countryside of the Wicklow Mountains in Ireland.

The high-rise building, its architectural detail, be it a decorative air vent or a graphic concrete façade, its layered practical and cultural additions (barbed wire, the wire mesh, the graffiti), its topography in the various warehouse districts of DTLA, and the factory output from them (flowers, fashion), take centre stage in a new body of work presented by photographer Alice Beresford.

The artist spent 3 months living in the downtown area of Los Angeles, armed with a camera and a bicycle for transport (in a town built for cars), the artist was able to get close to, and capture unaware, the subject that is DTLA.

Being a foreigner in this land brings a sense of alienation to these works, and a fresh pair of eyes searching for something familiar sees details that might not be observed by a local. In a burnt out and bleak landscape, where the blue of the sky is sometimes the only colour, the graffiti draws the artist to it, to its hues and its humour, as do flowers or fabrics. The architecture is then given a canvas upon which to be screenprinted. By combining two photographic images this experimental work was enabled by the artist’s residency in a completely unique way.


Lost and Found in LA

It was a long hard puff that I took. I felt it in hit the bottom of my lungs as I spoke a smoky thank you to the dude whose warning I had ignored. I know dope dude. I thought as his words floated over me.

Cyn finished her fag and we started to walk back thru the trees to the gig. We could hear Willie’s dulcet tones.

We upped the pace. But I knew I should get some water. I told Cyn I would see her at the seats. As I was walking back with water and wallet in hand my mouth started to cotton up.

Oh oh.

Things were changing. I stood for a while trying to take stock of my situation. Right

  1. Had to get back to my seat
  2. Don’t fall over and pass out while doing so.

This I did with a certain amount of effort. I found my row and with my limited vision I saw Cyn and Alex. I pushed my way thru to them and remember hearing a giggle from from the patrons whose toes I had stepped on.

“You all right Pal” Cyn asked

“Yeah just a bit stoned,” I mumbled as I sat down and put my head between my legs.

“Don’t worry you’ll be alright “she said reassuringly rubbing my back

Although muffled by my knees Willie sounded great and sure enough the haze began to lift and and as the orchestra heighten the sound to something special, I was able to a sit upright. Willie finished with roll me and smoke me when I’m gone. Although I was not in that league I did indeed feel an affinity.

I followed the others out, slightly battered but with a warm glow. The crowd was carrying us along when I lost sight of the others. 

Oh Oh 

I turned around and looked back up the tunnel as which point I saw two people coming towards me making eye contact and asking. 

“We’re you sitting in row n?” 

“Yes” I answered cautiously 

“Are you from Ireland?” 

Yeah” I answered even more cautiously 

‘We found your purse. Small blue one, right. We left it at lost and found.’ Wow that was the Willie god looking out for me. 

Didn’t even know I had lost it. Well I knew I’d lost it, but not my purse.  

Alice Beresford