Stitches: attaching two items, whether flaps of severed muscle or images in digital collage, the word applies to William Scarbrough's new work at the Bell-Roberts. The only stitches missing were the laughing kind, unfortunately. The only humour was a tad too macabre for any belly laughs. What was stitched? Pain and horror, war, pussy, Arabs, blood, chickens (the funny bit), dogs, lots of children and dolls, a cowboy and other bits and bobs culled from the media. Mostly gory and paired with a (mostly) balletic sense of composition, the images are appealing, make you want to look a little.
Of course this is pretty normal. From car crashes to the news to Saw, we love to look at this stuff. Whether we look at this to attain some sort of the sublime, or if it is a cathartic experience of someone else's problem is up for discussion. More likely, this work fulfills neither of these functions but rather is a criticism of the media which has desensitized us to the horror of these images. Which in the end disappointed me. Having seen two of William Scarborough's previous works (The Trials of Dr Kawalski and Reclamation), which presented a far subtler and better critique, and more emotionally moving, this resort to horror and gore seems a little crass.

On the other hand, the act of him collecting these images, over twelve years. The act of searching, cutting, collating and thinking of these images over such an extended period of time gives me the creeps, and drives the point home more than the collages did.

Labels: Bell-Roberts, william scarbrough