I visited the “Sefton Open 2024” yesterday– a highly enriching experience that I can't recommend highly enough; we truly live amongst great artists here in Sefton, and we’re blest by their generosity. The temporary exhibit covers four rooms (and some more walls of the first floor) that have been used to display an eclectic and varied collection of local art, which shall be with us until May the 4th. Most of the works are for sale, and had I known that earlier, I would have been there sooner, for I was mesmerised by an acrylic by Liz Clarke called «Seaspray Heaven», which was already sold (at a bargain) by the time I visited— £70.
In my academic work I study the mechanisms of comedy, and I'm therefore always looking out for whatever makes me laugh. In a way, the wit in works of art that reaches out to us, that make us complicit in their thoughts and wit, through laughter are always very attractive to me because of the feeling of participating, of sharing a joke with the author. There are several works that invite the viewer to share a laugh at the Open, but I'd like to point out a couple: firstly, Sam Cookson's «Feeling Sheepish», a sculpture that will surely evoke mirth in whomever comes across it, and that, hopefully, will be displayed where many can enjoy it.
Finally, there was a painting by Roy Hughes, «Link Avenue», that I thought was very topical. Painted from the point of view of a person peering through their door’s peephole, this work brings back bad memories of the sad overreach of which fear made us pray. This one I wouldn't acquire, but would like forever exhibited in the museum, as it perfectly evokes a rather complex emotion, and is not without its comedy– a tragic comedy, perhaps, but a comedy nonetheless, as it has –for now– had a happy ending.
Written on the 17 of April