The young British artist James Richards, known for his atmospheric collages of grainy analogue video, recently made headlines as one of the four shortlisted nominees for the prestigious Turner Prize, an annual award presented by the Tate gallery in London. Just a few days after the announcement, Richards was in China to attend the opening of his first exhibition in the country, “Of Disturbance,” at Magician Space in Beijing’s 798 art district. His visit to China also included a series of screenings and symposia, co-organized by Magician Space and London-based arts organization Electra, at the Ullens Center for Contemporary Art in Beijing, as well as at OCAT Xi’an, OCAT Shenzhen and the Asia Society in Hong Kong. ArtAsiaPacific caught up with Richards to chat about his work, his experiences in China and his thoughts on the 2014 Turner Prize.
Your video work is like a tapestry or collage of various visual elements—sometimes haunting and sometimes humorous. What is your intention in stitching together such diverse materials into one video?
I want to make something that works on a range of levels and represents a range of experience. In some ways, my work reflects and recreates the late night, drifting through visual materials that I spent a lot of time working with whilst at college in London. This kind of “drifting” can lead you from melancholia to nostalgia to humor. I like those moments when something humorous stretches out and turns into something darker—how emotions can segue into each other. I never want to make something one dimensional in feeling or meaning. My work is all about creating a space for the experience of such moments.
The single-room Magician Space in Beijing was a great environment for a focused and absorbing display of your work. How important is the space and environment your work is exhibited in?
It’s a pleasure one gets less often—a solo show in an enclosed environment where you get to control everything completely. But I do like to keep things simple and to maintain clarity. In certain situations, it is quite a lot to ask of an audience to watch 20 minutes of a video that can, at times, seem somewhat arbitrary. Setting up a space for focus and concentration can allow for the full appreciation of such videos. Art can be exhausting, and I think it is a responsibility in those situations to make the art accessible.
What has drawn you towards the specific use of analog footage?
In the early to mid-2000s, whilst still at college in London, I was really interested in the end of the analog era. At that time, all over the UK you could buy VHS cassettes on the cheap—about ten for a pound. I bought up a lot of VHS material and sat in my studio watching through it all. I had a video player which could play double speed, so I would whiz through the stuff until something caught my eye.
There is a kind of murkiness in the textures of this video format. Things take on an emotional resonance; things emerge out of a fog or are discovered half-erased on the tapes. At the time, I was also interested in the idea of drifting through old experiences and associations. My analog work deals with these sorts of implied meanings and emotions.
How have your 2012 residency in Kitakyushu, Japan, and your whirlwind tour of China this summer influenced your work and the thought processes behind it?
The Japan residency certainly had an influence. I had an apartment, lots of time and didn’t know anyone there, so I found myself exploring a lot of new things. My work, Rosebud (2013), came very specifically from the cultural context of Japan. But at that time, I didn’t have a huge desire to produce something in particular. It was more about experimenting with imagery and fiddling with my camera.
The symposia we held across China this summer were interesting and diverse. Each was an absolutely different experience, due to the different locations and the art scene and institutions of each city. The conversation starters seem to be different from what they normally are back in Europe. For example, there seemed to be a consistent interest in my work, Not Blacking Out, Just Turning the Lights Off (2011).
On the whole, however, the conversations tended to be much more about practice and process than the works themselves. At OCAT Xi’an the audience was particularly engaged and enthusiastic on the topic of photographic and video art.
Congratulations for being shortlisted for the Turner Prize. What are your thoughts on this year’s nominations?
It seems to me like a selection of four people who could be in a group show. There are so many overlaps in our work, and I’ve been inspired by all of them. Some people find it too tight, like a school of work—unlike last year, which involved four very different practices.
And finally, do you have any plans or hopes to come back to Asia?
Yes! I have nothing planned, but I would love to come back to Beijing to spend a bit of time concentrating on my own work and soaking up the local atmosphere.