Sarah Cockings & Harriet Fleuriot
This slick, latex-slathered slice of video sensuality is great. Like a glossy, unctuous high-end perfume ad.
It’s just a simple, comedic narrative about a man seeing an ad for fags on the tele and going down the shops to buy some baccy. Simple, naïve, cynical and stupid. In a good way.
Lavin creates crumbling rocky formations squeezed around metallic outcroppings, like the earth has come alive and is consuming a factory.
Duelling dongs duke it out in this knob-clashing double self-portrait. Pudvine’s work is ludicrous and funny but also empoweringly confident, with a dash of the Magrittes about it.
This big totemic structure could be a jet fighter, a paint brush or a tribal mask. Maybe it’s all of them, and it’s a standout sculpture in a show full of good ones.
These shockingly knobbly bare knees feel vulnerable but still somehow self-deprecatingly humorous. They’re the barest, most open and honest things in the whole show.
Like the abandoned tights of a multi-legged giant, Leshem’s fleshy fabric construction feels soft and inviting but aggressive and strong at the same time.
Bloomberg New Contemporaries is at Block 336 in Brixton until Mar 3 - it's free and great.
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