Kings Cross Environment

The prospect of experiencing an evening of random art happenings in a labyrinth inside an old stable in King’s Cross sounded promising.

The website of the King & the Minotaur is a maze itself, giving away not much more than the chance to “engage with a rare piece of architecture that would otherwise be cut off from public access” and a “unique collection of art and performance”. But perhaps I should have been suspicious of anything calling itself “London’s premier pop-up labyrinth”. Tongue-in-cheek, I hope.

The said labyrinth is in no-man’s land near St Pancras Hospital. After being let in by a bouncer on the street, myself and two friends wait in a cobbled yard outside an old stable building, admiring a large Mary Poppins-type installation of suspended black umbrellas. One of my friends is pulled into the stable by a young woman in waif get-up — more unintentional theatreland references? She puts a butcher’s apron on my friend, giggles and promptly shuts the door, leaving the rest of us outside contemplating the prospect of an evening of participatory am-dram tiresomeness.

After the waif deigns to let the remainder of us in and we manage to give her the slip and rescue our friend, things can only improve. We’re in a sawdust-, straw- and grit-filled space separated by translucent walls, like giant silkscreens. However the aforementioned grit, discordant electronic sound art, random projections and small, inscrutable, mostly unremarkable sculptures have the whiff of cliché. There’s even something familiar about the huffing, puffing dancers in knickers and wellies dotted throughout the labyrinth, restlessly stomping around being horses.

The labyrinth is visually and aurally crowded. But in a dark corner, at last some quiet, beautiful, allegorical relief: a pale woman sits sullenly knitting, wearing a big, heavy bovine headdress and the knickers and wellies combo seen earlier. I imagine she is Ariadne and the Minotaur combined.

Just when I’ve decided I’m not really sure about all this, I end up in a bar. Stylistically and theatrically well-executed, it’s the event’s pièce de résistance. Dramatic lighting, chains, ladders, glass, expensive gin and cheap straw bales do not make for comfort, but still, a welcome rest at the end of a convoluted journey.

The King & the Minotaur runs until 30 April. www.thekingandtheminotaur.com

Clare Hill

The sadness of losing these two old hairdressers on the Cally Road is mitigated a little by the wonderful use of their entire empty shop as an impromptu gallery for the art of Jim Geddes.  Stephan wrote about local residents Jim's work on this site before.  I snapped a couple of pictures of Jim's collection gone wild.

An art commissioning agency, All Visual Arts (AVA) that recently based itself in King’s Cross, has opened its first exhibition. The exhibition space and offices are tucked away down the cul-del-sac, Omega Place, across from Housman’s Bookshop, in an unprepossessing warehouse.

The show's main features are a 3m-high bobbin of dolls’ hair and a knotted form wrapped in crows’ feathers. Fittingly called ‘Bound’, the work is by artists Alice Anderson and Kate McGwire.

Both of the pieces have been specially commissioned by AVA for the space. The agency’s logistics co-ordinator, Sam Barnes, stressed that they are not a gallery. “We’re a commissioning body — making art with artists rather than trading it like a commercial gallery. He likens the space to more of a showroom, with a rolling programme of public exhibitions.

“It’s a bit like the old arts patronage system, we fund things to be made…the idea is to work directly with the artists and produce good art and build a great collection.” adds Sam, who says it is a unique arrangement in the commercial art world. He explains that the system means artists get an advance to be able to make their work, rather than waiting to have a work sold and a gallery taking a big cut.

AVA has existed since 2008, established by Joe La Placa, an art dealer and Mike Platt, a hedge fund manager.

Despite the agency’s rather general-sounding name, there’s signs of an acquired taste for gothic creepiness in all the work in the main space, offices (an orb made of mouse skulls sits on someone's desk), and in some exquisite pieces under wraps in the storeroom, for an exhibition later this year. A special labyrinth will be built in the King’s Cross space for the art of French artist Charles Matton — featuring masterfully lit, tiny detailed models of interiors such as Sigmund Freud’s study and artist’s studios.

Sam Barnes admits AVA is tucked away, but says there’s plenty of logic in locating near galleries such as the Gagosian and Pangolin and the University of the Arts. And it seems not impossible to find for non-locals: “Charles Saatchi was in this morning” he adds.

Some rich, dark and twisted art to be discovered in a warehouse down a little alleyway near a train station? How very King’s Cross.

Bound runs until the end of the month. www.allvisualarts.org

Clare Hill