You might have noticed ArtHeat has been quite quiet recently. The explanation, quite simply, is that some idiot doing roadworks outside the ArtHeat Towers severed our cables. We've been waiting patiently for what seems like years to get the connection back, pacing listlessly, staring out the window, whining softly.

I even tried my hand at writing by hand. My pathetic daubings reminded me that hands are designed for keyboards.

Later in the week the internet came back on, and I was so depressed that nothing in the world had changed after the period of isolation, that writing seemed like a bit of an impossibility. On top of that my wisdom tooth appears to be gashing a bloody trail through the top of my gum.

The reason I'm telling you all these mundane facts, is not an apology at all, but rather a brief demonstration of how a little bit of personal detail can be endearing and a good way of introducing things. A case in point is the catalogue for Willem Boshoff's Épat, which recently showed at Michael Stevenson. Often I find his work complicated and dense and hard to access, although these qualities are what his work is about. I found the catalogue, which was all written by him, to be fascinating, giving a little personal insight into an artist who can be hard to see clearly owing to his reputation as a genius and an eccentric. And this little clarity helped me work through the art.

I also realised that I enjoy reading about art, and found as much enjoyment in this book as I did in the actual show. Perhaps in a show where reading is a theme this is not a bad thing. Although... on the other hand, giving translations of the text for the Blind Alphabet, while useful for me who is criminally shy around strangers, does seem to give away something of the work.

Another bonus was that the french folds, contrary to popular belief, were not scuffed.

Labels: willem boshoff