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Issue.04 December 2005

She’s gone off on another


creating a small, independent art ‘zine.

tangent is a bi-monthly FREE publication produced with the intention of informing and amusing in bite-size chunks. Quick ‘n Dirty, Black ‘n White, each issue contains contributions by and features on artists as well as arts listings in the South London area and beyond. To get the skinny on how to submit writing and/or artwork contact: Karen D’Amico via email:

Printed copies can be collected at the following locations: In the UK: House Gallery The South London Gallery The Residence Space Station 65 Studio Voltaire Transition Gallery Further Afield FluxFactory New York Zeke’s Gallery, Montreal PDFs available on the website: content © karen d’amico 2005 unless otherwise noted. all images used by permission and copyright by the artists concerned, unless otherwise noted. contributing artists’ work in the form of text and /or images copyright by the artist. no stealing allowed; hey, make up your own ideas FFS! after all, we have.


not just a pretty picture, you know.


(in no particular order)

[observe] Cathy Lomax London (UK)

Hans Heiner-Buhr Tbilisi (Rep. Georgia)

Annie Kevans London (UK)

Richard Moon London (UK)

Nigel Cox London (UK)

Joy Garnett New York (USA)

Nicola Morrison London (UK)

Carlos Cortes London (UK)

Will Murray Montreal (Canada)

Jay Gadhia Leeds (UK)

Kes Richardson London (UK)

[reflect] Thoughts on a Grey Day frameset.html

[inform] Arts Listings

why i love painting I’m not a painter. I wish I were, because I really enjoy it. The physicality of it for one thing. I like to touch it, smear it, smell it, squish it between my fingers. If I could eat it, I probably would. I love the fact that a painter can take an idea and somehow, magically, bring it into reality. One minute a blank canvas, the next, an image that somehow communicates an idea, thought or feeling. To me, it’s a form of alchemy. I don’t think painting will ever disappear, really. It’s true that painting carries a lot of baggage; it has a rich and turbulant history, tied up with religion, power and all the rest. Because of that, I think contemporary artists whose primary medium is paint are gutsy folks. As with anything, contemporary art is a reflection of its own time, but no matter how many videos are made, no matter how many installations are created, no matter how many photographs or computer generated images are produced, I have a feeling painting is gonna be around for a good long while. Painting speaks to people on a myriad of levels - physical, emotional, sensual, whatever. That said, I think there’s room for all of it - painting, drawing, installation, video, sculpture, photography, computer, sound, assemblage, and so on. And thank (insert diety of your choice here) for that, otherwise I wouldn’t be an artist. Because like I said, I don’t paint. Not well, anyway. I think painting works especially well when it offers a leap of the imagination. Does it captivate? Make me think? Please my visual sense? Transport me to another place, much like a good book? Make me percieve something differently than before? In the end, I think good painting does all those things. If it has a message or strong idea all the better, but I don’t think that is the only criteria to justify its existance. Sometimes visual pleasure is enough. That said, the combination of satisfying both my aestetic and intellectual cravings is the ultimate. So - the artists in this issue are people whose work for one reason or another has touched me, moved me, inspired and encouraged me. I applaud that, and I applaud them. I envy their talent and their commitment. My one regret for this issue is that tangent is in black and white becuase it just does not do justice to the work. Ahh, well. It’s a zine after all, not ArtForum, ya know. So check out the websites to see the work In Living Colour. 


Kes Richardson

The Lady (Miss Cocodril) (2005) 86.5 x 86.5cm, Acrylic on Canvas

Kes Richardson’s new work discusses the act of painting as illusion, charade or visual theatre, the act of applying viscous material to a canvas support in an attempt to create the suspension of disbelief. By readdressing existing paintings, editing, altering and reducing their formal elements, Richardson subverts their meaning and highlights their theatricality. Sitters become actors, landscapes become sets and still lives become props. The pairing down of information, the absence of certain features and the transformation of the familiar into the strange give the works a disquieting atmosphere but the opportunity of different interpretations of meaning. Through a shared visual language each painting becomes free to interact with its neighbour opening the possibility for narrative where the viewer is director. As each new painting is introduced so more of the story is told and a new world evolves and becomes more tangible.

The Mill (2005) 30 x 40.5cm, Acrylic on Canvas

The Soothsayer (2005) 61 x 81.5cm, Acrylic on Canvas


JoyGarnett Garnett Joy

Jog (2003) 26 x 46 inches, Oil on canvas

Strange Weather (1) (2005) 20 x 26 inches, Oil on canvas

Stones (2005) 60 x 78 inches, Oil on canvas

Walking Man (2005) Oil on canvas, 48 x 60 inches

asked & answered Joy Garnett

when did you first know you wanted to be an artist? I was making art from an early age and I didn’t think twice about artist as an “identity” until I had to deal with the kids at school. I was about 6 years old, and there was this kid who could draw very well, and we were competative with one another. People egged us on and made comparisons. Much later, when I was studying ecology and languages at college, I realized that I really wanted to devote myself more formally to developing as an artist, so after graduating with a fairly eclectic BA, I went to Europe and eventually enrolled at the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris. what inspires you? Many things, from Velasquez to cheesey television. When it comes to raw material, if I see an image in the news or somewhere that grabs me, I save it for a possible future project. I have tons of images squirreled away... Most of my inspiration these days comes from the mass media spectacle. how do you define painting in the contemporary art world? Painting is a shape-shifting medium. To some degree it is whatever the contemporary market and scene needs it to be. It can satisfy what seem to be mutually exclusive conditions, and embody seeming opposites like protest and fashion all at once. Painting tends to be about one person, one author, utilizing a wide array of tools, but the end product is generally something that is sufficiently open-ended and mysterious so as to invite multiple interpretations. oils or acrylics? Oils. I’ve never seen the point of acrylic-based paint. It doesn’t refract light as well and it doesn’t behave the way I want it to. It smells bad. Any heroes or villians? I can’t say that there many artists I think of as villains; there are a few, and that would have to do with their level of selfish self-absorbtion. I also find the pandering of certain critics to be abhorrent. I wish there was more new blood stirring things up intellectually, but art criticism is pure tedium, has been for a while. Few people say what they are really thinking, everyone is so afraid offending someone and hurting their career or losing funding. As for heroes, right now I’m reading a book called “Sweet Dreams: Contemporary Art and Complicity,” by Johanna Drucker. She’s my hero of the moment. I can’t stop paraphrasing her. Basically she says the reason why art is unique and interesting is because it is at once complicit with and critical of main stream culture. She understands the delicious complexity of such a contradiction, instead of trying to hold onto the idea of art as an “alternative” or standing in opposition to our culture. Can you remember your first painting? Actually, no. But I do have an early memory of an art transgression I perpetrated on the surface of my mother’s brand new sewing machine table. I was maybe 3 or 4 and I took a bobbypin and scratched a line drawing of a princess (clearly inspired by Disney) onto the honey-colored wood. I have never been forgiven.


Smartest thing you ever did in terms of your work? I found a way to work fast -- to make a painting in one go -- and I decided to stick to that as a rule. This holds for small as well as large works. It helps me do a number of things: I can cover a lot of ground in a short time, especially when I work in series. It also lends a unity to them, and allows me to tap into something visceral and of-the-moment. Worst mistake in terms of your work? I’m not even sure what a mistake is anymore. A problem is a lesson not yet learned. Once you figure something out it’s no longer a problem. I don’t think damage is irreversible (even social damage). Poster Girl (2005) 48 x 38 inches, Oil on canvas

Best bit about being an artist? Making stuff. Worst bit about being an artist? I hate that there is such a small pie and we are all competing tooth and nail for attention, representation, grants, etc. It’s often disheartening to be undervalued and to have to scramble. On the other hand it’s probably a good thing in the Darwinian sense -- better than becoming fat and bored and complacent. What shows have you seen recently? I saw the Nancy Spero show, “Cri du Coeur” that just opened at Galerie Lelong in New York. Darkly beautiful, and wonderfully installed: a scroll running on the lower edge of the walls along the gallery floor. There is nothing at eye-level, so you literally have to “get down” with it. Nancy is really good at bringing out the beauty in the pain. I also saw the Luc Tuymans at David Zwirner. Artist friends I talk to seem to be divided about him. There are those who detest him -- they think him cowardly, that he’s not sticking his neck out, not showing his hand. And then there are those who like the ambiguity and openendedness. I think there is a mystery to his paintings that is problematic, and part of why they are interesting. He said in a recent interview that you can’t force meaning on people, and that’s true. His work intimates and pokes at things without giving you too many hints. In the meantime, he is stirring the shit just as much as the next guy. It’s stealthy painting and I guess I like that! 11


Carlos Cortes Often painting on discarded objects, (a car bonnet, refrigerator panel or carburettor, for example) Carlos uses allegory as an agency to comment on themes such as religion, tradition, transgression and notions of stereotype. His imagery evolves out of the immediate, inherent narratives that he draws from reading the objects themselves; and stories emerge from the folds and dents, re-translating themselves onto the object in the form of a painting. When shown, these short texts accompany the work. There is a sense of irony enriched by surreal and darkly humorous subject matter, and having been blessed with the Shoe Gene, I personally like the boots on many of his characters. I like the dialogue between 2- and 3D work; is it an object that is painted or is it a painting that takes the form of an object? Also the act of regeneration; giving an object a crack at a new and perhaps longer life bestows it with a sense of respect. There’s a certain tenderness in that which touches me. Touch the Art There is a theatrical and interactive element to many of his paintings; panels move, doors and drawers open to reveal their secrets and viewers are encouraged to touch, explore and react in the form of offering back their own narrative. This performative element isn’t surprising, as Carlos has a background in theatre and stage design, and his art practice is cross disciplinary, incorporating installation and performance as well as painting. Noted for his work in Six Thousand Chairs, a live art and installation event in Crystal Palace Park last year as well as running a three day workshop and site-specific performance commissioned by the Hayward in conjunction with Rebecca Horn’s recent BodyLandscapes show, there is a nice interplay with artist as both performer and audience.

Flagelatio (2004-5) 50 x 16.5cm , Oil on bent and dented refrigerator panel

Flagelatio: Here seen as a past time in a strange setting. The column is stoveheated for maximum comfort. 12

The Commuter (2003) 20 x 30cm, Oil on drawer (Private Collection)


9 to five, 9 to five ...and start again.


Hans Heiner-Buhr

What are my essentials for making art ?

Soldier (2003) 60x50 cm, Oil on canvas

Mother (2001) 60x50 cm, Oil on canvas

Caucasus Landscape (2000) 70x120cm, Oil on canvas

Visual discovery, Nature, Exchange, Consiousness, Courage, Contemplation, Phantasy, Selfconfidence, Examples, Luck, The right moment, Patience, Inspiration, Decisions, Good brushes, The right paint, A fast Internet connection, A big studio on a mountain with a good view with a bright northern light, A good background, Some wine, Belief, A Lover.

Hansi Malt (2005) 60x50 cm, Oil on canvas



Cathy Lomax

Painting a Picture The best paintings look easy but are the hardest to make. “Painting as impulse on purpose”1 is a very hard trick to conjure. Most paintings are considered and planned and fretted over only to turn out to be nothing like the perfect painting they should have been. I know because I’m always composing pictures in my head. At college painting always gave the tutors a headache – there’s too much history they’d say… why not make a video or take a photo or do a performance. Why not indeed? I’m afraid I don’t have the definitive answer.

Mary (2004) 76 x 76cm, Oil on Canvas

There is an unfashionable notion that the mediation of the artist’s hand in the creation of an image makes it special. I think it is more about controlling an image – becoming an art Dr Frankenstein – the rare opportunity to be able to loose yourself in the act of creation. It is also let’s face it about a kind of nostalgia. Paintings have that look and can be particularly evocative especially when depicting melancholy subjects. There is currently a vogue within painting for referencing art history with Gainsborough, Flemish Grand Masters and Victorian Gothics all appearing in contemporary work.

So Sour (2005) 76 x 81cm, Oil on Linen


I like my own paintings to be a bit haunting, summarising a particular atmosphere or period. I want them to look a like children’s book illustrations freed from their narrative constraints or like photos that don’t look real; colour plates in flower arranging books from the 50s or saturated photos of the royal family, the infant Prince Charles in canary yellow the Queen in cornflower blue. I also love the beautiful red that appears in 40’s films - that perfect luscious Powell and Pressburger red. But I also want them to be about now, I’m not White Poodle (2005) 20 x 25cm , Oil on Linen interested in painting as a mirror on a rose tinted past. That is the thing about painting, it can take in all of these things, pick and choose from a catalogue of styles, colours and content, mix it all up and deliver a final image. Painting has multiplied, subtracted, repeated and revised real life long before photography let alone photoshop was a gleam in the eye of mankind. It is undoubtedly an ancient art but this longevity does not automatically make it reactionary. Painting is something that we can and should utilise to bind together the past and the future in order to create an important revolutionary vision. --Cathy Lomax Alex Michon – Mise en Scene Magdalenas: fiction, reality and autobiography in the work of Stella Vine – June 2004 1

In the Woods (2001) 81 x 178cm, Oil on Linen


Makosi (2005) Oil on Wood


Voysey Death Bottle (2005) 35 x 20cm , Oil on Newspaper and Linen



Annie Kevans Kevans’ work comments on power, manipulation and the role of the individual in inherited belief systems. Her deliberate choice of children as subjects is well considered and purposfully deceptive; it examines the boundary between innocence and accountability, especially the ‘Boys’ serries, in which she paints notorious figures such as Poi Pot and Hitler, but as children. Her work stirs me deeply. It also makes me sad because it so clearly calls into question that invisible line that divides innocence and evil. I’m always amazed by the ephemreal quality of her works on paper. She has a light touch with the brush, yet captures an essence that, I think anyway, would be difficult to do with photography. I remember when her work was bought by Saatchi, at our degree show - it was so invigorating for many of us because it was like saying, “yea, painting ain’t dead - it still has a lot to offer in a contemporary context.” It restored my faith in the Art World, and again made me realise that a strong idea, well executed, is a powerful thing. Pol Pot (Boy) (2004) 61 x 61cm, Oil on Canvas (Private Collection)

Radovan-Karadzic from the series, ‘Boys’ (2004) 51 x 41cm, Oil on Paper (Saatchi Collection)

Ngo-Dinh-Diem from the series, ‘Boys’ (2004) 51 x 41cm, Oil on Paper (Saatchi Collection)


One Child 2005; Oil on Paper, Work in progress: series based on China’s ‘One Child’ policy


My Top Ten All-Time Favourite Dead Painters And Why (in no particular order) Rembrandt - He could draw like there was no tomorrow. He had a sense of humour - his self-portraits are quite telling. I also find it somehow comforting to know that even he struggled with hands. Vincent Van Gough - Gestural, passionate, colourful and perhaps a bit mad. You can tell this guy was in love with paint. I can relate to that. Prunella Clough - Gutsy painter who did what she wanted. I remember thinking how cool it was that she won the Jerwood at the age of 80 and then feeling incredibly sad that she died soon after. Jackson Pollock - ArtStar status aside, I admire what he did for painting, how he moved it on. I enjoy getting lost in his layers of networks and lines; I like their complexity and rhythm and I never get tired of looking at his work. Franz Kline - He used a housepainters’ brush, like deKooning. Broad, gestural strokes. There’s a tight, graphic quality about his work that juxtaposes nicely with the pure physicality of it. Dorthea Tanning - Surreal, quirky, thought provoking. Her images are so loaded with meaning and quite dark at that. I also find it interesting that she moved on to the cloth sculptures in later years. Lee Krasner - Not the household name her ArtStar partner was, which I think is a tragedy. Her painting was nevertheless strong and complex. Much of her work has a definite feminine quality, as evidenced in the curves and subtle brushwork. It is similar to Pollock but softer, more considered. James Whistler - When I go over the bridges of London I think of his work and I can see the ‘Nocturne’ sparks and embers cascading in my minds’ eye. He was such a rebel of his time as well; an advocate of ‘Art for Art’s Sake’ and in many ways, like Turnerr, a fore-runner of the Abstract Expressionist movement. Georges Braque - the unsung cubist. On the world stage he wasn’t the household name that Picasso was, but I think his paintings and collages are more interesting. Edward Hopper - Using the most banal settings he was able to evoke a feeling of quiet desperation like no other. His work is atmospheric, haunting and incredibly lonely, and I’ll never forget the impact it had on me he first time I saw it at the Whitney, some years back.



Nigel Cox

The Return (2005) 24 x 12 inches, Oil on Canvas

A love of large open spaces and lack of clutter is evident in Nigel’s work but it’s also clear that he is fascinated by detail. These opposing elements converge, conjuring up notions of escape and emptiness but also solitude because the figures are solitary but don’t appear lonely. The vacant landscapes give an otherworldly feel to the work, while the figuration places it solidly within the real world.

Staring Out (2005) 36 x 24 inches, Oil on Canvas


Timing is everything Take Lee Krasner, for instance. I happened to watch the film, ‘Pollock’ on telly a few months ago and it got me thinking. What would have happend for Krasner had she not chosen the path of ‘muse’? An artist in her own right, talented, creative - certainly driven - and involved in what could be described as the cutting edge of contemporarty art of its time, she was well connected. Yet she essentially put her own career aside, deferring to her partners’ needs. Lee Krasner has gone to that Big Paintbox in the Sky, and in spite of the fact that perhaps some of her best work was produced after Pollock’s death, she will forever be known to most as his wife and muse, the longsuffering, somewhat stablising force behind the wild Pollock persona the media to this day still portrays. The widow of a ‘tragic figure’ who ‘suffered for his art’, her work is forever eclipsed by the lingering myth of her soul-mate. I wonder; in those quiet, sleepless moments deep in the night, was this thought pondered? Surely it must have been. She was a talented, intelligent woman, after all. If Krasner were transported through time, placed in today’s world as a young, talented, ambitious and well-connected artist, would she make the same choice - indeed, the same sacrifice? Would she strive to be recognised for her own work instead of being viewed as an appendage to someone else’s? Would she sacrifice her relationship for her career? More importantly, would she need to? Becaue of the time in which she was born, she never gained the recognition that was so richly deserved. I guess the question is, then, is it any different now? Have we moved on or are we just pretending that we have? Answers, if you have them, in an email please. 24


Jay Gahdia I want to push the boundaries of painting. I want to create magic, mystery and intrigue through the creation of windows. I want to be able to see my work evolving from the transient to the significant. I use reflective surfaces, glass and Perspex as a way of moving away from the bound traditions of canvas…being a painter does not always mean having to use a canvas. Given the opportunity, I would paint on wine glasses, on doors, on whole windows, on polished floors, on street signs, on greeny glass elevators… I stand by the fact that they are still paintings, albeit unconventional ones. The boxes are a way of creating a journey through painted lines and marks…so that every time the viewer moves, the angle and position of the lines move also. Frank Stella’s Window (2005) 50 x 70cm, Acrylic on perspex sheets, wooden frame

So, the view of the painting has a trillion different perspectives. Isn’t that how we should see the world sometimes? These paintings are made through the use of transparent materials so sometimes, even at the end of the journey through the maze, all you find is the wall behind the piece or the reflection of yourself staring back at you. The difficult journeys we encounter in life often lead nowhere…why not just enjoy the colours on the way there! I want my works to be reminiscent of labyrinths and Hindu /Buddhist mandalas so that I can share the journey with others. That the beauty of colours, the sexiness of straight lines, the delicacy of subtle changes in tone and the allure of the unknown can be a mutual experience between myself and the viewer.

Echo of Distance (2005) 50 x 70cm, Acrylic on perspex sheet, wooden box, light fittings.


It’s Official: Painting’s Not Dead. I know this because Charles Saatchi says so. Not in so many words, of course (that’d be because he doesn’t talk in public much - or go to private views, parties and so on) but he’s made a series of shows about it called ‘The Triumph of Painting’. So it must be true then. 26


Wil Murray The enamel paintings of Canadian artist Wil Murray have a mind of their own. Paint is applied, manipulated and then left to drip and ooze and the work begins to create itself over time. The artist intervenes, pushing the paint around, yet the paint resists and pushes back. I like that. Wil’s work is incredibly sensual; the sheer physicality of it is like a long tease, enticing the viewer to touch it, smooge it around and somehow become a part of it, yet you know you’re not supposed to. I know this for a fact because I happened to be at Zeke’s Gallery in Montreal just before Wil’s solo show in September so got to meet him and have a peek at some of his work. I must confess, I was a Bad Gurrl. I couldn’t resist touching the work. Perhaps not the best thing to publicise in terms of viewing his paintings, but that’s the reaction that I had, and I suspect many others have felt the same.

Cadillac (2005) Enamal on

Sighhh.. Goodbye Booze (2005) Enamal on



Richard Moon

Richard Moon’s work is disturbing, compelling and amazingly painted. By recontextualising various images, taken largely from anachronistic photography, the end result offers multiple meanings and the viewer is invited to specualte and deduce their own narrative. As he says, “Images that are distanced by time and corrupted through manipulation produce an effect both of familiarity and uncertainty, and the paintings’ strong association with photography brings with them all the effects of loss, longing and nostalgia that is often experienced when looking at such imagery.” Richard’s work will be featured in a group show at The Wyer Gallery from 12 December through 25 January

Echo (2005) Oil on canvas

The Sitter (2005) Oil on canvas



Nicola Morrison

Often using what most perceive to be flaws as a trajectory, Nicola’s paintings call into question notions of beauty, power and worth in modern societies. Her premise is that these constructs exist primarily as an aid to denying humanity’s animal characteristics and eventual mortality. Functioning within a society which relies not only on the existence of, but also the acceptance of these constructs, her paintings attempt to subvert them and raise questions about their worth.

Power (2005) Acrylic on board


Thoughts on a Grey Day Leendert Kamelgarn - now is that a great name or what? I first encountered Leendert’s work when I was in the 5th grade. Lonely and feeling very much the outsider in a new school after an abrupt move mid-year from the suburbs to San Francisco, I was busy going through a succession of ‘housekeepers’ who kept leaving because I was such a pain in the ass. Luckily for me, I soon became friends with Leendert’s daughter, Grace, one of the few people in my class I felt comfortable around. She was smart and funny and confident and terribly grown up for a 10 year old. She accepted me as I was, which as I recall, was insecure, awkward, outspoken and pretty much all over the map. (So nothing’s changed much, then.) She could play the piano and draw like there was no tomorrow, which I so admired. We keep in touch to this day - ok sporadically via email - but I digress. As one does at that age, we hung out after school and at weekends. I liked going to her flat because it was so unconventional compared to mine. For one thing, Grace called her parents Leendert and Marilyn instead of Mom and Dad. Marilyn was an actress and Leendert was an artist - still is, actually. I thought Leendert and Marilyn were so cool - the antithsis to my middle class, suburban upbringing. They were from New York. They bought health food before it was The Done Thing. They had beatnik friends who hung out at The Committee Theatre. They once invited me and my Dad to a private view - my first ever, come to think of it - and I remember being worried that my Dad wouldn’t like it because all the men wore turtlenecks and he wore a tie. But we went because my Dad, to his credit, likes art. Leendert’s front room was always filled with these amazing, large canvases full of exquisite blends of colour. There were two that I loved in particular - both had huge zippers sewn into the canvas so that on the ‘outside’ there these beautiful hues and gradients of colour (say, blue, for example) and on the ‘inside’ was its opposite. I seem to remember a lion or cat as the outside but it was all very blendie so don’t quote me. At the time I thought this was just the wildist, coolest, craziest thing I had ever seen. I couldn’t believe someone would have the nerve to actually do such a thing, like it was against the law or something. So along with the beauty (and they were beautiful) it was the gutsiness that I found so alluring. So Leendert and his paintings and his (to my then mind) unconventional attituce had a lot to do with the fact that I fell in love with painting and eventually became an artist. I had a conversation with Leendert a few years ago and told him how much his work had inspired me. I think he was a bit embarrassed - “I take no responsibility!” was his reply. Nevertheless he sends me funky cards every now and then, addressed “Karen D’Amico - ARTIST!” I get such a kick out of that. In his 80’s now, he’s still making work and having shows. Inspiring? Hell yeah.


catch: Arts Publications

[an] magazine Arty Magazine Leisure Centre Publish and Be Damned Rant Magazine rifRAG Smoke: a london peculuiar


Anxiety Culture Artangel Artinliverpool Artquest Art South Central Eyebeam Fallon & Rosoff Happy Famous Artists Kollabor8 Newsgrist Re-Title Rhizome Stunned Theory.Org Wooster Collective

galleries, weblinks, etc.

Galleries / Studios / Resources

198 Gallery (SE24) Bearspace (SE8) Cafe’ Gallery Projects (SE16) Castlefield Gallery (M15) Cell Project Space (E2) Clapham Art Gallery (SW4) Flux Factory (New York) Gasworks (SE11) Hames Levack (W1) Hayward Gallery (SE1) House Gallery (SE1) inIVA (EC2) ICA (SW1) MOT (E8) Photographers Gallery (WC2) Photofusion (SW9) SevenSeven (E8) South London Gallery (SE5) Space Station 65 (SE22) Space Studios (E8) Stand Assembly (NG3) Standpoint (N1) Studio Voltaire (SW4) The Residence(E9) Surface Gallery (NG1) Tate Modern (SE1) Transition Gallery (E9) The Wyer Gallery (SW11) Zeke’s Gallery (Montreal)



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Issue 5 ‘Emerging’ due out in February 2006

tangent 04  
tangent 04  

an independent art zine - by the ariists, for the artists.