This page contains a Flash digital edition of a book.
REVIEWS IAN HAMILTON FINLAY
IAN HAMILTON FINLAY: THE SONNET IS A
SEWING-MACHINE FOR THE MONOSTICH
VICTORIA MIRO GALLERY, LONDON
30 MARCH – 12 MAY
Ian Hamilton Finlay was one of art’s great intransigents. The Scottish Cooled Watercress (1989), glowing greenly, but elsewhere references to
concrete poet, philosopher, artist and gardener, who died last year at the landscape and history holds sway – Fax, Idling Its Sails (1992) connects the
age of eighty, made enemies and friends in a way that artists nowadays view of the sails of a ship at rest to the wafting whiteness of a fax’s print-roll.
rarely do – through stubborn conviction and a tenacious desire to demand Poverty, Pitted with Larks (1991) of_f ers a conundrum of possible meaning,
that art aspire to total commitment to one’s own vision, regardless of the full of improbable proximities and leaps of association. A,E,I,O, BLUE
consequences to such niceties as career and reputation. Finlay’s austere (1992) amuses itself with a run up the building blocks of words, for a sudden
and idiosyncratic mix of interests, fusing concrete poetry’s approach to leap of_f into blue’s infi nite expanse.
language with a ongoing interest in the legacy of classicism, of Greek Downstairs are works that relate to Finlay’s enduring interest in the
civilisation and of the revolutionary spirit of the French Revolution, made poetic charge of the events of the French Revolution. Ici on Danse (1996)
him dif_f_i cult for many in the artworld to swallow; too passionate, too [‘here we dance’] doubles the phrase in two superimposed lines, which
awkward, too sincere. brighten and darken in alternation. The phrase, explains a text, was inscribed
The Sonnet Is a Sewing-Machine for the Monostich, marking the at the entrance of the site of the demolished Bastille a year after the
anniversary of his death, makes for a gentle reminder, though hardly Revolution. Optimism and joy are both in the work, and in the knowledge
comprehensive, of the sweeping range of his work. Put together by his of its source. Corday Lux (undated), a painted wall text of three letters
assistant, Pia Maria Simig, the work divides into two groups; upstairs, a set in three rows in a classical font, breaks down the surname of the famous
of one-sentence poems – a form known to poets as a monostich – in neon, assassin of the Jacobin revolutionary Marat, Charlotte Corday, into the
which were fi rst produced for an exhibition in Scotland in 1993; in the lower Latin for heart (cor) and light (lux), above and below ‘day’. Corday stabbed
gallery, a looser grouping of wall texts and neons made between 1989 Marat in the heart, but her act didn’t stop the dark days of the Terror that
and 1993. followed. Finlay’s fascination with the revolutionary spirit is for its extremity,
The monostichs’ brevity are focused materialisations for Finlay’s the impossibility of compromise or equivocation. Another neon, Je Vous
particular brand of juxtaposition, using the slippages of alliteration and Salue Marat (1989), in red, white and blue, opposes the radiance of Corday
double meaning to monumentalise a world of objects, vistas and moments Lux. A world where shades of grey aren’t possible becomes the revelling
both ancient and contemporary, prosaic and grandiose. Simplest is Water- poetry of confl ict with which Finlay’s art still glows. J.J. Charlesworth

, 1989, neon, with Julie Farthing, 91 x 122 x 8 cm. Photo: Thierry Bal.
Je Vous Salue Marat Courtesy Victoria Miro Gallery, London
one.linfive.lintwo.lin ARTREVIEW
p147-161 Reviews AR Jun07.indd 3 3/5/07 16:21:13
Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84 Page 85 Page 86 Page 87 Page 88 Page 89 Page 90 Page 91 Page 92 Page 93 Page 94 Page 95 Page 96 Page 97 Page 98 Page 99 Page 100 Page 101 Page 102 Page 103 Page 104 Page 105 Page 106 Page 107 Page 108 Page 109 Page 110 Page 111 Page 112 Page 113 Page 114 Page 115 Page 116 Page 117 Page 118 Page 119 Page 120 Page 121 Page 122 Page 123 Page 124 Page 125 Page 126 Page 127 Page 128 Page 129 Page 130 Page 131 Page 132 Page 133 Page 134 Page 135 Page 136 Page 137 Page 138 Page 139 Page 140 Page 141 Page 142 Page 143 Page 144 Page 145 Page 146 Page 147 Page 148 Page 149 Page 150 Page 151 Page 152 Page 153 Page 154 Page 155 Page 156 Page 157 Page 158 Page 159 Page 160 Page 161 Page 162 Page 163 Page 164 Page 165 Page 166 Page 167 Page 168 Page 169 Page 170