Saturday, 12 March 2016
Brick Project at RIBA
Photos: Joanna Brinton.
Friday, 15 January 2016
Brick Project at RIBA
Sunday, 9 November 2014
Bishops Park, brick plinths
Wednesday, 22 May 2013
Metro: Block-obsessed collector scours Britain for another brick for his wall
Friday, 19 April 2013
Brick from Demolition of Spandau Prison
The Antiques Road Show which aired on Sunday 14 April featured a brick from Spandau Prison, Berlin. The prison was demolished in 1987 after the death of its last prisoner, Rudolf Hess. Follow this link to watch the clip on the BBC website: ---> http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p017mfyr
Friday, 1 March 2013
Brick Project at Turner Contemporary
Monday, 25 February 2013
Smeed Dean Brick Works
Each brick takes approximately 6 days to produce. Please find below some images from my visit.
Sunday, 13 January 2013
Carl Andre, Equivalent VIII, 1966
Wednesday, 12 December 2012
Sunday, 9 December 2012
Cow Tower, Norwich
Tuesday, 27 November 2012
Brick Project at Outpost Members Show 2012
I am presenting a lecture on Brick Project as part of the Outpost Members Show 2012 selected by Ruth Ewan which opens this Saturday 1 December. The lecture will take place at Outpost on Thursday 13 December, 6-9pm, Tom Smith will also be performing work the same evening.
More information on this ongoing work please visit the Brick Project blog http://www.brick-project.blogspot.com/
OUTPOST MEMBERS SHOW 2012
Exhibition runs until 21 December
10b Wensum Street, Norwich, NR3 1HR
questions@norwichoutpost.org / www.norwichoutpost.org
+44 (0) 1603 612 428 / charity number 1109254
Thursday, 23 August 2012
Brick Project at Whitstable Biennale 2012
Full programme details are available at www.whitstablebiennale.com and a NEW Whitstable Biennale 2012 smartphone App will be available nearer the opening date.
Tuesday, 5 June 2012
WCMT Award Ceremony
To download my report please follow this link http://www.wcmt.org.uk/press/greater-london.html
Monday, 28 May 2012
Ally Pally
Wednesday, 2 May 2012
Mini brick
Made by the London brick company!
Tuesday, 13 March 2012
Brick Project in Art Vehicle 61
Artvehicle 61/Review
21st January 2012 — 21st January 2012
Photo by Emma Peascod
ct. A bizarre conglomeration of prostitutes in windows, beautiful wonky old buildings, notorious coffee-shops and stoner tourist trade, the red-light district of Amsterdam provides the perfect background to this exploration of a place, its identity and the elements of its world that we may ordinarily overlook.
What was really interesting was the sheer scope of the exhibition; for each artist's response to the environment was so completely different, as was the way in which they chose to present their work and engage with the audience. On the one hand we had the domestic intimacy of Rhiannon Armstrong'sEverything You Ever Wanted To Say But Didn't, and on the other the formal lecture set-up of Laura Wilson's Brick Project. We had Mark Wayman playing a kind of pseudo tour-guide in Re-Occupy and Adrian Lee confusing / amusing both gallery visitors and passers-by with his comic, provocative one-man protest. Adam James and Andrew Graham took the actual audience as their subject matter and re-played it to them in their piece Vlo, whilst Tobias Collier presented a continuation of his self-branding project in a way that was both intimately engaging and epic in its projected form.
There was no official 'start' to the proceedings (which seemed to baffle some of the audience) and it was fascinating to observe how the crowd appeared to engage or disengage with the performances, depending on how they were presented.
Taking to extremes the maxim that 'no publicity is bad publicity', Lee loitered around the gallery entrance, taunting passers-by with his "wanton self-promotion" posters, "Ban This Filth" placard and blacked-out leaflets of banned books. Dressed in his finest 'disgusted from Tunbridge Wells' attire, his calls to the local crowd to "walk away from this muck" led to much confusion, mirth, a brief encounter with the local constabulary and the odd pervy drunk who couldn't wait to come inside to find out just what kind of filth was on offer (no doubt disappointed to only find a bunch of arty types hanging about watching stuff). The irony of this publicity protest may have been lost on some of the Saturday night crowd on the Warmoesstraat, but it certainly was not on most of the gallery goers inside.
Mark Wayman's Re-Occupy similarly sought to engage passers-by as well as those who were deliberate participants from W139. Taking place in the middle of the former Occupy Amsterdam site (just a stones-throw from the gallery) he led the crowd on a virtual tour of the now largely defunct camp; re-imagining (and thereby temporarily re-occupying) the square. Carefully putting back all the tents into the exact same spaces they had actually occupied by engaging our imaginations with his highly detailed descriptions, his ability to make us see what was no longer there exposed the way in which we take our public spaces or experiences for granted, and how we often fail to notice the obvious until it is gone.
To those in the know (and the locals of Amsterdam) this was a highly accurate oral replication of the actual Occupy site, but to the visitor there was the added dimension that this may indeed have been merely Wayman's vision of what the protest camp may have looked like, and that his 'performance' as a virtual tour-guide was no more than a carefully orchestrated fictional charade.
Back in the gallery, both Armstrong and James/Grahams' performances sought to engage the audience in a dichotomy of personal encounter and observational distance; allowing people to dip into and out of the performances (in the case of James/Graham without necessarily being aware of the role which they were playing), whilst relying on their participation to create the very works themselves. This dual experience was beautifully achieved in Armstrong's Everything You Ever Wanted To Say But Didn't Part 1 and The Archive Of Things Left Unsaid.
Set up in a corner of the gallery, Armstrong had recreated a cosy and very British sitting room space, complete with handmade crocheted blankets, doilies and homemade biscuits. In this cordoned off area, she held as series of brief one-on-one encounters with a number of different voluntary participants. These encounters were based around a collection of deeply personal stories taken from her long-established archive of things left unsaid; an archive which audience members were encouraged to add to in the other half of the piece. The playing out of these intimate conversations, however, remained in the public space; enabling other members of the audience to observe the exchanges but not necessarily hear what was going on, and providing an interesting experience of public versus private space and personal versus public information. It was fascinating to watch both the behaviours and reactions of the people participating in the conversations and those contributing their stories to the ever-growing archive. I was left wondering though whether the stories from Amsterdam would then change the feel and presentation of the piece in its future incarnation. Maybe next time there will be a typically Dutch sitting room set up in the corner of a Japanese gallery taking these (universal) stories from a specific place to another space?
Wilson's fascinating lecture on the history and geography of bricks and brickmaking held particular resonance for the setting as much of old Amsterdam (and its curiously wonky buildings) is constructed from this ancient material. Her formalised talk gave the audience yet another kind of performance/engagement experience, as well as providing a new layer to this story of the city; a story which refuses to pander to the global stereotype of Amsterdam as merely the scuzzy mecca of European sex and drug tourism. Instead, Wilson's piece helped to reiterate the strong history of craft and engineering skill behind this picturesque and beautiful place, whilst celebrating the universality of the common brick.
Collier's Anthropic Principles added perhaps the final dimension to this experience of a place by linking the local penchant for tattoo parlours with the greater cosmos. Inviting the audience to closely observe as he tattooed himself under lamplight whilst the giant projection screen followed this process in negative format; making his arm and former brandings look like the Milky Way. There was also an element of the experience which mirrored the kind of exchange taking place in the windows of the local brothels, for we, the audience, watch in complicity as his body is branded and put on display for public consumption.
The evening ended with the movement-based conclusion of James/Graham's observational foray into the behaviours of certain characters from the local area (collected in the week prior to the show) and members of the CLIMB LIKE A CUCUMBER audience (collected on the night by way of a live-feed and a kind of brainstorm drawing undertaken by the pair throughout the evening). The duo then acted out and mimicked elements of movement, and snippets of conversations, based on the behaviours they had observed both from the gallery and from the streets; again exposing the contrast between the private and the public, the internalised and externalised behaviours of the local people, and the different roles played by the audience as both participant and observer.
From the personal to the universal, from contemporary culture and politics to the historical grounding of a city, this ambitious evening of performance touched on many of the different aspects that contribute to the notion and identity of a place. Leading the audience through a mix of observational/participatory experiences, and revealing aspects of the city no doubt frequently overlooked by the outsiders' eye, the success of CLIMB LIKE A CUCUMBER, FALL LIKE AN AUBERGINE lay in its ability to expose and question, in a diverse variety of forms, our sense of the city and its myriad experiences.
For more information on the individual artists involved, please follow the links below:
Tobias Collier www.tobiascollier.com
Adam James and Andrew Graham www.mradamjames.com or on Twitter @adamjamesstudio
Adrian Lee www.inquino.com / www.bunnycigarettes.com /www.perfectmother.com
Laura Wilson www.laurawilson.me or on Twitter @Laura_wil
Caroline Darke
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
Brick Lane Bricks
Photo: Adelle Kalakouti
Residents are split over a plan to resurface Brick Lane with tarmac in preparation for this year’s Olympics.
The controversial face-lift will include new lighting and the complete resurfacing of its famous underfoot bricks.
Tower Hamlets cabinet member for the environment Shahed Ali said: “The new asphalt surface on Brick Lane will be smarter, easier and cheaper to maintain and will help distinguish space for pedestrians from traffic.”
But Brick Lane businesses have greeted the council’s decision with mixed feelings.
Anna Sims of Heba vintage clothes shop told EastLondonLines: “It is a good thing, it needs modernising and repairing. Brick Lane has its history but it is renowned for being grubby. It will still pull the vintage crowds, a road is just a road at the end of the day.”
But Mohammed Maksudul Kabir, owner of the Banoful Cake House, disagrees: “Before, when the road was made of brick it was nicer. Now it is going to lose its character and tradition, it’s going to be like a normal road. There is no need to waste money on that.”
Local supermarket owner Junel Khalikue said: “The bricks go perfectly with the name Brick Lane. We like it.”
Restaurant and shop owners have welcomed the regeneration but say the works have had a negative effect on business since they began this week.
Others expressed satisfaction with their efficiency, saying works in the past had taken too long.
The resurfacing project, taking place over the next five weeks, will cost about £300,000. It is funded by Transport from London and developer contributions.
http://www.eastlondonlines.co.uk/2012/02/brick-lane-to-lose-its-bricks-in-olympic-asphalt-repair/Friday, 4 November 2011
Rebuilding History

Thursday, 20 October 2011
What is sculpture?
Sunday, 4 September 2011
Wall Text
From Issue 141 Frieze Magazine: September 2011
WEEKEND SPECIAL: The brick as metaphor in South African art and writing
I arrive early for a press briefing and sit outside Berlin’s Martin-Gropius-Bau. Flipping through a magazine, I pause on Vladimir Nabokov’s account of his 1942 lecture tour of South Carolina. ‘The photograph has not been sent here,’ he writes to his wife Vera, ‘so it’s no surprise that the college was expecting a gentlemen with Dostoyevsky’s beard, Stalin’s moustache, Chekhov’s pince-nez and a Tolstoyan blouse.’ I look up and see workmen busy installing a wall-sized canvas print of the Berlin Wall, more or less on the spot where the wall once stood. A wall resembling and remembering a wall: weird, I think to myself, and return to Nabokov.
The press briefing for André Kertész’s retrospective is in French and German; his photographs, however, need no translation. One work in particular intrigues: made in 1933, the black and white image shows a neatly stacked pile of bricks. The arrangement, which predates Carl Andre’s famous exercise in equivalence by three decades, and speaks across time to a landscape study with bricks made in suburban Tangier by Yto Barrada in 2003, which I will see later in the day, fills almost the entire picture plane; the only marker of place is the Eiffel Tower in the corner. The bricks make me think of Ivan Vladislavic. (No, he isn’t Hungarian, nor does he have a Stalin moustache.) ‘The name is Croatian,’ explained the Johannesburg-based novelist and essayist in a 1999 interview. ‘My grandparents on my father’s side were Croatian immigrants.’ Vladislavic is one of contemporary South Africa’s most distinguished literary figures. His 2001 novel, The Restless Supermarket, a story about cosmopolitan entropy and the travails of proofreading, won the Sunday Times Fiction Prize. His most recent novel, Double Negative (2010), has been similarly fêted. The outcome of a collaboration with photographer David Goldblatt, the novel tells the story of Neville Lister, a morose youth whose encounter with a taciturn documentarian, Saul Auerbach, prompts him to become a photographer. Like much of Vladislavic’s writing, Double Negative immerses its reader in the idiosyncratic physical and psychic geography of Johannesburg. Here’s Lister, a late-blooming artist – and participant in Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin’s recent exercise in artistic subterfuge for the Krakow Photobiennial, ‘Alias’ – on his interest in photographing the city’s over-abundant walls: ‘As the walls go on rising, the character of the place grows more and more obscure [...] you think there is life behind one guarded façade or another, a mind behind the blank stare, but you cannot be sure.’
Walls and bricks have preoccupied Vladislavic since the get go. His first book, Missing Persons (1989), includes an amusing story of suburban paranoia, ‘Journal of a Wall’. Written at the fag end of apartheid, the unnamed narrator records seeing bricks being hurled at township buses on television; however, it is the immediate proximity of the brick wall across the road that compels him. ‘I went over just after midnight, in an overcoat, in a balaclava,’ the narrator tells. ‘I brought back with me a brick.’ Confronted by its ‘stony silence’ and ‘impenetrable skin’, he soon returns the pilfered building block.
Despite their standardized rectangular form and obstinate appearance, bricks are adaptable conveniences for Vladislavic. They can ‘inflict metaphor’, to repurpose a description he used in an early story. More prosaically, as he observes
in Portrait with Keys (2006), a collage of essayistic sketches of contemporary Johannesburg, bricks can function as ‘a doorstop, a weapon or a purse’.
The brick’s potential for violence, both actual and symbolic, should not be underestimated. ‘A passer-by had flung a brick through the plate-glass window and snatched some goods from the display,’ offers Vladislavic in Portrait with Keys, of a theft from a shop near his home. ‘The brick was still lying there among the dusty satin drapes, chrome-plated pedestals and handwritten price-tags. It was a wonderful brick, a model brick, with three round holes through it the size of coins, filled with chips of broken glass.’ The passage reads likes a deadpan description of an early work by Kendell Geers, Title Withheld (Brick) (1994–6).
Once you begin to look for them, bricks recur everywhere in South African art and writing. ‘He had been involved in a fight,’ writes photographer Santu Mofokeng in his 2001 monograph. Currently the subject of a touring European survey show, Mofokeng is recalling an incident from the 1980s, involving a Soweto friend, Vusi. ‘He stopped a brick with his head, knocked out cold.’ Goldblatt’s interest in bricks is more ideological than actual: apartheid was physically constructed into being. Unsurprisingly, the octogenarian photographer’s opus is packed with bricks. Sometimes they form a uniform backdrop for his portraits, other times they function as his explicit subject, as in his 1990 photograph of Abraham Thipe’s almost Andre-esque display of used bricks on a Johannesburg pavement. The photo predates by two years the action in Vladislavic’s short story ‘Propaganda by Monuments’. Boniface Khumalo, a tavern owner who has received news from Russian authorities that his request for a ‘surplus’ statue of Lenin has been approved, is walking past a demolition site in Pretoria. An old man is salvaging bricks. ‘Do you sell these things?’ asks Boniface. He is anticipating building a large plinth for Lenin’s head. ‘This rubbish belongs to no-one,’ the old man replies. ‘It is just lying here. You can see it yourself.’ Often, however, we don’t.
Sean O’Toole
is a journalist and writer based in Cape Town, South Africa.


























