The Approach, London

4th June - 19th July 2015 

***

The press release introducing RITES, the Edinburgh-born artist Peter Davies' fourth exhibition in The Approach, made much of the notion that while these new monochromatic abstract paintings had a "graphic appearance in reproduction", they were more "tactile" when viewed first-hand.

This wasn't a declaration backed up by my own first inspection, visible brushstrokes - even at the closest quarters - being at a premium. It all meant that as intrigued as I was by the distinctive process of making these paintings initially by collage conveyed onto blank canvas via a projector, such was their outward appearance from afar that simple screen printing would have affected a barely different outcome.

However, I certainly hadn't anticipated the sheer, unadulterated blankness of these blank canvasses - utterly raw and unprimed beneath the painted grey, albeit faultlessly stretched. The aforementioned 'tactility' also becomes more evident on witnessing certain pieces across the space - all mysterious thrown shapes and dark, protruding shadows.

There are no wall labels or captions identifying the images, their lack of even names of their own further accentuating that this is a group to be appreciated as one, its constituent members unable to be fully appreciated separately.

The association to be made by many observers will be with Henri Matisse's '50s cut-outs, only for their greyscaled palette to render them the black sheep of that particular family - or a murkier underbelly. Nonetheless, all manner of associations can be made here with wider Modernism, formalism and conceptualism, in which Davies has shown ample proficiency in his career to date.

Although the setting for RITES - above a humble pub in a still slightly rough-around-the-edges Bethnal Green - might speak of a certain 'salt of the earth' warmth and distance from the contemporary art elite, the space is nonetheless a fairly nondescript white cube.

Some of the squarer graphics here give the sense of the ghosts of Tectonic plates, rubbing along uneasily. Among the more jagged of these shapes, it is tumult and even violence that are principally communicated. These qualities could have their origins just as easily in 'nature' as in the human hand - if such a distinction can even be made.

For all of the claims of 'tactility', Davies has seemingly aimed for the utmost flatness in his application of paint, even as bobbles and bumps do show up as a seemingly inevitable part of the process. Nor are the bare canvasses a continuous, immaculate shade, with apparent little dots and nooks appearing amid the grain. Not-altogether-intended dust, dirt or even paint? It's hard to tell.

Much emphasis on contrast prevails - some pieces seeming to be dominated by the canvas, others by the paint. A couple of the pieces seem to relate to their counterparts in closest proximity - or do they? Am I the chief participant at this point, teasing out similarities only discerned or cared about by me? Perhaps Davies took a resolutely unplanned approach to the positioning of canvases?

And yet, even the most minor background details of these pieces' production seem to beg for interpretation at the centre stage. The collage-projector method of working, for instance, points to a dimension of respectively blocking out or allowing light. It is also possible to see hints of the pen outline where Davies has traced the projected images onto the canvas, prior to painting them in.

Sure, there may be much about RITES that appears to say very little - right down to the nonplussed exhibition space and the manner of the pieces' installation. But perhaps by saying very little about some things, art can actually communicate more.

Under The Bridge, London

17th July 2015

****

One of the more unquestionably hipster-friendly members of the legendary Jackson clan made the jazz-club-esque Under The Bridge - beneath the Stamford Bridge home of recently crowned Premier League champions Chelsea FC - his stage for a rare UK solo show.

Supplemented for Michael's iconic high-pitched vocal parts by talent from Thriller Live as the baritone singer performed the deeper-voiced lines largely reserved for Jermaine on the family's records, Tito - somehow in keeping with his modest persona - occasionally seemed relegated to mere guest at his own show.

The man who did so much to start the Jacksons' musical legend as a child when he famously broke his father's guitar strings alternated between showing off his always unsung talent behind the mic and strumming away guitar parts on hits ranging from the group's "Heartbreak Hotel" to "Black or White", the track made a chart-topper by Michael in 1991.

While the former brought the most famous Jackson's implicit presence front-and-centre through an exhibition of the departed Gloved One's potent songwriting signature - this song from the group's 1980 Triumph album having been largely a solo effort, albeit with a La Toya opening scream and a Tito guitar solo - "Black or White" showed its worth once again as a true 'stadium song'.

The gig had opened - after a pair of opening acts that included Larissa and Diane Shaw - with a smattering of Tito's little-heard blues numbers, the first a self-referential track doffing a cap to the Jackson 5. He then called on his support talent to power through a medley covering the Motown group's one-two-three punch of upbeat hits - "I Want You Back", "ABC" and "The Love You Save" - with "I'll Be There" an obligatory later stop-off point.

A pumping "Can You Feel It" was then delivered in tribute to the group's Epic years - the label erroneously referred to by Tito as "Sony Records" in one of a small number of spoken word introductions.

The crowd appetite for familiar smashes duly satisfied, some of the attendees - including this reviewer - headed for the rather snazzily-appointed toilet facilities as Tito introduced some country songs to his set. A return to pacier territory was marked by tracks like his celebratory 2011 single "We Made It", which might just have been the perfect way to close this show.  

That role was reserved, instead, for another group chart-strutter from back in the day, the one referred to in the past by Tito as the band's definitive "disco hit": 1978's "Shake Your Body (Down To The Ground)". Leaving the classily-fitted venue to the sound from the speakers of a cover of "Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming (Too Good To Be True)" - a Jermaine and Michael Jackson could-have-been hit from 1984 - I was left in no doubt that this was a fine place and night to be a Jacksons aficionado.

It was all the more of a shame, then, that such dweebiness could not have been better catered for by the line of "Tito Jackson merchandise" on offer near the door - an underwhelming selection of magnets, badges, Jackson 5 compilation CDs and a ladies', but oddly not a man's shirt. Wouldn't this have been the perfect spot for a few copies of Tito's long, long, long awaited debut solo album?

New studio material may have been referred to on stage by the man himself, but even with Tito's voice given another airing in concert after his live forays since 2012 with The Jacksons, the wait for a long-player from one of the more studio-shy members of America's most famous soul family continues.