Sigrid Holmwood

Annely Juda Fine Art

Sigrid Holmwood

Sigrid Holmwood The Peasants are Revolting!

24 May - 8 July 2017

Annely Juda Fine Art 23 Dering Street London W1S 1AW ajfa@annelyjudafineart.co.uk www.annelyjudafineart.co.uk Tel 020 7629 7578 Fax 020 7491 2139 Monday - Friday 10 - 6 Saturday 11 - 5 front cover: Dancing right to left 2017 ink and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with dyer’s broom, cochineal and logwood on board 110 x 180 cm back cover: Dancing left to right 2017 ink and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with dyer’s broom, madder, cochineal and logwood on board 110 x 180 cm

SIGRID HOLMWOOD: HOW TO BE CREATIVELY COMMON An artist in a studio has an intriguing relationship with the world outside its threshold. The artist’s studio is an important invention: its distinct formal separation from other kinds of space, and its transformation of standard ideas about labour and time, make all that enters or leaves it – whether materials, finished works or ideas – particularly visible on the way in or the way out. The world of the studio has, since the Renaissance set in train a developing respect for the profession and the ideas of artists, often been pictured as a place of withdrawal. It can also be seen as a place of batch production, craft, experiment and light industry – and of thinking that is not separated from these kinds of practical knowledge. When Sigrid Holmwood makes images of a painter in her studio – such as Painting with plant and insect colours, 2016, she demonstrates just such an alliance of professional self-respect and practical knowledge. The list of materials used demonstrates the artist’s commitment to demystification: ‘Mayan blue made from woad, madder, cochineal, aliaga, ink and gesso, on calico mordant printed with cochineal and dyer’s broom’. As viewers we are unlikely to share Holmwood’s experimental understanding of the recipes she uses to make these pigments, nor her detailed knowledge of the history of the trades in these commodities and the culture of the plants. However, the representational drive of the image is clear, and perhaps surprising to early 21st-century viewers. It shows a peasant who paints.

A lively, formal wit is at work that makes it uncertain who might be the butt of the joke here, the peasant painter or her spectators. The question of what sort of artist identifies herself as a peasant who paints is complicated by the fact that the bowler-hatted figure grasping a large brush – which she is about to use on cloth stretched on poles – is in black and white, as are some of her bowls of paint. She is, as it were, waiting to be coloured in: a latent subject of history.

The background is the main coloured element, and it has been screen-printed, not painted, in the pattern identified elsewhere as ‘pleitas’, strips of woven Esparto grass: so even in the background two processes of production are implied, of the corded matting and the printed fabric that represents it. Painting is celebrated but on condition that it is seen as one process of production among others: the making and finishing of the cloth, as well as the pigments and dyes with which it is coloured. Holmwood’s black ink strokes defining the figure and her clothing are not expressive of mastery in the manner of Chinese ink painting. They show a matter-of-fact quickness and a connection to yet another form of image-making, the woodcut. At the centre of it all, the peasant who paints is an enterprising figure, who is shown to be involved in many other processes and representations and not a bit diminished by this; she clearly has agency, and her individuality is enhanced, not compromised, by her sense of pride in work and an identity founded in communal obligation. Holmwood positions painting itself among other hierarchies of production, consumption, reproduction and labour, as one means among others – and does so robustly and gaily.

Holmwood’s area of research includes actual peasants who painted – for example in Sweden, where enclosures came much later than elsewhere in Europe – and better known areas of art history such as how peasants have been painted and what the function of these paintings was, and for whom. This genre of peasant painting emerged at precisely the same point as the art market itself was being developed in Antwerp and the Low Countries, as part of a new drive to produce social differentiation. As feudal arrangements were overlaid by urbanisation, but not entirely displaced, class differences that had seemed immutable and eternal gave way to greater degrees of social movement and conflict. The prints and paintings of Pieter Bruegel, who was likely a townsman rather than a villager, are a part

Pleitas 2016 various plant, insect and earth pigments (including Mayan blue made from woad, cochineal, madder, aliaga, buckthorn berries, caput mortuum, red earth, yellow earth and green earth) bound in egg tempera on board 146 x 15 cm each

of this production of class difference for uncertain times, and it can be puzzling for modern viewers to disentangle Bruegel’s evident pleasure in peasant life (and especially of the movement of dancers) from his orthodox Christian censure of its sins and his disciplining of peasants’ bodies. The control of appetite was, even more than sex, the preoccupation of Christian thinking about the body right through the medieval period and into the Renaissance. Bruegel’s Land of Cockaigne, 1567, showing gluttons asleep and a shelter roofed with pies and fowl that carve themselves, is the source for Holmwood’s painting of the same name. In her version the soldier, peasant farmer and lazy clerk are replaced by peasant women, sleeping the sleep of the just, painted in Mayan blue on a boldly patterned calico; only the abandoned tools, including a prominent sickle at the centre, are picked out in red (madder outlined with cochineal). In defiance of its Christian original, this image gains distinct utopian potential, to become a blissful celebration of rest after labours have ended.

Holmwood also places a prickly pear in her version. This New World cactus is, surprisingly, to be found in Bruegel’s painting, but its significance there had not perhaps been properly understood by art historians until Holmwood, with her formidable knowledge of the history of pigments and dyes, put her mind to it. Cochineal is a red dye produced from a scale-insect of the same name, whose host plants are cacti. It was a highly prized colonial export back to Spain and Europe. Holmwood first became aware of prickly pear cacti growing that were infected with cochineal when working on a pigment garden in Spain. It was here, from practical investigation and cultivation, that she was led to explore the colonial trajectories of the plants, pigments and peasants, even as that word strains to cover the varieties of ways farmers and agrarians across the world are positioned. Holmwood has proposed that for Bruegel, in an area of Europe under the yoke of Spain, the cactus may have represented a symbol of the new Land of Plenty, and perhaps a coded warning against excessive consumption of the expensive dyestuff. She has also explored the possibility that the etymology of Cockaigne, land of plenty, may be connected with that for ‘woad-ball’ – woad being a crop that could make a peasant rich. The growing of woad as a cash crop, discouraged by Luther, was in this period being edged out by the trade in New World indigo. Whether or not Holmwood convinces art historians of all of this, Bruegel would have been strongly aware, as a painter, of the economics of pigment production, and of the value his skills and ideas added to the raw materials he obtained and prepared.

Holmwood’s version of the painting makes use of a hybrid Mayan blue – European woad combined with clay, made according to an adapted Mesoamerican recipe. The cactus takes a prominent place, as a symbol of colonial traffic in colour as commodity, set in a flattened dreamspace of fabric on which these 21st-century peasant women are stretched out. Are they displaced ‘survivals’ or anachronistic emblems of what the planet will need? Holmwood has suggested that ‘it is important to remember that the peasant was not just what had to be excluded in order to construct modernity, but also the potential source of alternative futures’. Her espousal of the cause of the peasant is surprising, but may be prescient, as 21st-century societies struggle to grasp the ecological limits to growth, and to find ways of re-envisioning communal obligations and care of the land that feeds us. What alliances will be needed to defend and invent commonwealths, and to hold off further enclosures of shared ground? What practical skills of cultivation and co-operation will need to be learnt and communicated?

Such questions become visible in Holmwood’s new paintings, in which there is a strong ‘how to’ aspect. Much of the imagery has been derived from the Florentine Codex – ‘General History of the Things of New Spain’ – compiled in the 16th century by the Franciscan missionary Fray Bernadino de Sahagún, in Nahuatl and in Spanish translation.

Another source is Paulus Hector Mair’s treatise on fighting, including peasant warfare. The imagery she has put back into circulation is not all about peaceable cultivation and the production of pigments: the ‘how to’ element of subsistence and survival includes training on how to recognize instruments of torture. Nevertheless, these grim machines are not especially emphasised. They are present, as Norbert Elias wrote in The Civilising Process, in the way the gallows is present in the remarkable 15th-century drawings by the ‘Master of the Medieval Housebook’: ‘It is there like the stream or a tree’.

Holmwood’s new paintings also, inescapably, invite thinking about the agency of women. The women they portray, identified in the titles only as ‘peasants’, show an ability to go into the future with resources of mirth and a particular inflection of rudeness, even as their sickles remain sharp. It is crucial that we cannot be certain where the distinction between dancing and fighting begins or ends. A sickle is used to raise a skirt. The gesture is delicate, knowing and puzzling, suggesting careful choreography and skilful coordination between the dancers/fighters. In another work, one peasant submits herself to be beaten with a flail on the bum. Is this carnivalesque play-acting about forms of violence elsewhere, or an exercise for a future peasants war in which women are on the frontline? The women with the funny noses provide no answers. While the works invite narrative speculation, they can also be seen in formal terms: individuals are subordinated to the group character of the activity, and the distinction between figure composition and decorative frieze is undone. So these paintings present themselves knowingly as minor works; and the associations of the printed fabric strips on which they are painted also work to disarm our expectations of whatever kind of seriousness they offer. Holmwood’s levity is strategic: she plays with her viewers’ expectations, and has found ways to make repeated details insinuate themselves into your understanding. For example, what do those noses mean, and do they exert a particular threat or taunt to the men who are nowhere to be seen in this whole group of paintings? Except, that is, in Brewing a storm, where it is possible to see some sailors about to be drowned as their galleon is scuttled by witches – who are wearing bowlers, and all the more witchy for it.

Such anachronisms have been understood as useful before, and there is perhaps a kinship of spirit between Holmwood and Nancy Spero, whose gleeful lines of dancers, runners and Sheela na Gigs (and earlier incorporation of printing into painting) made a forceful impact on the possibilities for figurative art in the 1970s and since, in a way that was responsive to the emergencies of her time. The demands of our period are different, however, and Holmwood’s figures, all of them active subjects, enter the arena of battle and of play fully clothed. Her developing approach to pictorial thinking and the whole cycle of production demonstrates a powerful new stage in her work. As an artist she has a robustly moral clear-sightedness: an ability to see the possibility of intimidation and threat alongside the positive energies of cultivation, craft and celebration. Culture, in Holmwood’s capable hands, regains something of its original senses: ‘the cultivation of plants, rearing of bees, silkworms, etc’ and ‘improvement by care and training’. It is something that must be grown.

Ian Hunt, April 2017

THE PEASANTS ARE REVOLTING! The works in this exhibition come out of my research for the construction of a pigment garden in the Sierra María Los Vélez, Almería, Spain. It is located on an old farmstead (cortijo), on marginal arid land. The area was depopulated during the rural migration of the sixties and seventies but, typical of the more recent waves of migration into the area, this cortijo has been renovated by a couple of British artists, Simon and Donna Beckman, who have founded Joya: arte + ecología, an artist-led fieldwork research centre. For some time now, I have worked with the figure of the peasant, and its relationship to the history of Western European painting, using the term peasant-painting to move playfully between the ideas of paintings-of-peasants and peasants-that-paint. This project has allowed me to build on my previous work by re-appropriating the peasant as a transnational figure rather than as a symbol used to promote nationalism, as has happened during the twentieth century. I uncover the intimate links between the subjugation of peasant culture within Europe and the oppression of diverse indigenous knowledges and technologies outside Europe

by Western modernity.

Spain’s colonial past is inscribed into its contemporary landscape. During my first visit to the site I noticed that the landscape at lower altitudes was dominated by the prickly pear cactus (Opuntia), which originates from central America, and that most were heavily infected by cochineal, an insect which produces a crimson dye which Spain used to import from Mexico during the colonial era. Consequently, rather than attempting to re-create some ‘originary’ peasant pigment garden of ‘native’ plants, I trace the trajectories of certain plants and plant-pigments, as the colonisation of the New World opened up a rich new resource of plant colours for exploitation by Europe, and especially the Spanish Empire. Much like now, the sixteenth century was a time of great global change and upheaval with colonialism, the consequent development of capitalism in Europe and the Reformation. Various alternative world views and social movements surfaced during this time leading to a series of uprisings, such as the failed German Peasant War of 1525. It was, therefore, a time of counter-revolutionary tactics aimed at subduing the peasant class, such as the Great Witch Hunts, which were also exported to the New World.1 This contributed to the suppression of indigenous and peasant knowledges of plant life, which, in the current global and environmental crisis, may now point to alternative futures.

For the paintings in this exhibition I have used a combination of plants (and insects) originating from both Europe and Central America. I have dyed and mordant-printed calico for the backgrounds and painted on top using plant pigments that I have made with both European and Mesoamerican technologies. The pigment, which perhaps most embodies this hybridity, is Mayan blue, which I have made from woad. This remarkable pigment, which is outstandingly stable, was made from the tropical indigo plant native to Central America (xuiquílitl in Nahua, the language of the Aztecs) by a process unique to Mesoamerican Amerindians. It is believed to have been invented around 700 CE by the Mayans and was eventually used across Mesoamerica. However, the practice of making the pigment was lost by the 17th century in the wake of colonialism. The technology behind the pigment has been going through a process of re-discovery through archaeology and analytical chemistry during the late twentieth century. This has allowed me to now adapt the recipe using the European source of indigo, woad, thereby weaving together the entwined narratives of indigenous Mesoamericans and European peasants under colonialism and Western modernity.

Sigrid Holmwood, April 2017 1 Silvia Federici, Caliban and the Witch (Autonomedia, 2004)

1

Woad 2016 Mayan blue made from woad and gesso on calico mordant printed with buckthorn berries on board 128 x 164 cm

2

Dancing left to right 2017 ink and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with dyer’s broom, madder, cochineal and logwood on board 110 x 180 cm

3

Dancing right to left 2017 ink and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with dyer’s broom, cochineal and logwood on board 110 x 180 cm

4

Peasants fighting with flail (bum blow) 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, aliaga, cochineal, ink and gesso on calico mordant printed with dyer’s broom, cochineal and logwood on board 110 x 190.5 cm

5

Peasants fighting with sickles 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, aliaga, madder, ink and gesso on calico mordant printed with madder, dyer’s broom and logwood on board 110 x 195 cm

6

Peasants fighting with scythes 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, ink and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with dyer’s broom, buckthorn berries and logwood on board 120 x 185 cm

The mythical ‘Land of Cockaigne’, the peasant fantasy of the land of plenty, is believed to get its name from the French for woad balls, cocagne. Woad, which produces an indigo blue, was one of the earliest commodity crops in Europe and by the middle ages it had made the areas of Toulouse in France and Thuringia in Germany immensely rich. Woad production in Europe went into decline when Spain started importing tropical indigo from its slave plantations in Central and South America. Bruegel’s depiction of the Land of Cockaigne includes an often overlooked prickly pear cactus in the background, perhaps indicating that with the trade in cochineal and indigo the New World had become the new land of plenty.

7

Land of Cockaigne 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, cochineal, madder and gesso on calico mordant printed with dyer’s broom and logwood on board 120 x 170 cm

8

Painting with flower and song 2016 Mayan blue made with woad, aliaga, cochineal, ink and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with madder, cochineal and dyer’s broom on board 100 x 200 cm

9

Painting with plant and insect colours 2016 Mayan blue made from woad, madder, cochineal, aliaga, ink and gesso on calico mordant printed with cochineal and dyer’s broom on board 100 x 125 cm

10 Instrument of torture: wheel 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, indigo woad, aliaga and gesso on calico mordant printed with logwood, dyer’s broom and cochineal on board 60.5 x 48 cm

11 Instrument of torture: chair 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, indigo woad, ochre and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with madder and cochineal on board 60.5 x 48 cm

12

Instrument of torture: fire 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, indigo woad, ochre, aliaga, cochineal, ink and gesso on calico mordant printed with logwood, madder and cochineal on board 60.5 x 48 cm

13

Planta Genista 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, cochineal, aliaga (genista) and gesso on calico mordant printed with logwood and dyer’s broom (genista) on board 48 x 60.5 cm

14 Espino de Tintes 2017 green earth, indigo woad, espino de tintes and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with dyer’s broom, espino de tintes, logwood and madder on board 60.5 x 48 cm

15 Nocheztli (cochineal) 2016 ink and gesso on calico mordant printed with cochineal on board 104.5 x 122 cm

16

Behind the hedge 2016 Mayan blue made from woad and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with dyer’s broom, buckthorn berries and cochineal on board 90 x 120 cm

17

Madder 2016 madder, ink and gesso on calico mordant printed with madder on board 100 x 120 cm

Clues to the method for making Mayan blue can be gleaned from the images in the General History of the things of New Spain, otherwise known as the Florentine codex. Produced in collaboration between Fray Sahagún and an anonymous group of indigenous Nahua tlacuilos (painters/scribes) around 1575-77, it is considered to be the world’s first ethnographic work. It is a twelve-volume illustrated account of the daily life, religious and political customs of the Nahua and the natural history of animals, plants and minerals of Mexico, written bilingually in Spanish and alphabetised Náhuatl. Chapter XI of book XI, is devoted to the fine colours for painting and dyeing obtained from plants and includes an illustrated description of xuiquílitl the tropical indigo used to make Mayan blue.

18 Making Mayan Blue 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, ink and gesso on calico mordant printed with logwood and dyer’s broom on board 105 x 126.5 cm

19 Pigment Market 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, madder, aliaga, indigo woad and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with madder on board 48 x 60.5 cm

20

Garden 2016 Mayan blue made from woad and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with madder and cochineal on board 90 x 120 cm

21 Grinding Colours 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, indigo woad, cochineal, aliaga and gesso on calico mordant printed with logwood, madder and cochineal on board 78 x 90 cm

22

Grinding Ingredients 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, woad indigo, madder, cochineal, aliaga green earth, caput mortum and gesso on calico mordant printed with logwood, madder and cochineal on board 120.5 x 90.5 cm

One of the tools of oppression, which tangibly connected dispossessed European peasants with the colonised indigenous peoples of the Americas through the materials of painting, is the Rasphuis. This was a prison founded in Amsterdam in 1596 in which vagrants and malefactors were put to work rasping brazilwood and logwood for the pigment and dye industry. These dye-woods were imported from the colonies of Central and South America. The model of the Rasphuis soon spread around Europe including Copenhagen in Denmark and Stockholm, Norrkรถping and Gothenburg in Sweden.

23 Rasphuis 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, ochre, aliaga, ink and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with madder, logwood and cochineal on board 122 x 156 cm

24 Cauldron 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, green earth, woad indigo, aliaga and gesso on calico mordant printed with logwood, cochineal and dyer’s broom on board 90.5 x 120 cm

25 Brewing a storm 2017 cochineal, raw Sienna, ink and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with madder, cochineal and logwood on board 110 x 182 cm

26 Colourbox: green 2016 Mayan blue made from woad, green earth, cochineal and aliaga on hand woven linen on board 25.5 x 25.5 cm

27 Colourbox: purple 2016 Mayan blue made from woad, madder, cochineal, caput mortum and aliaga on hand woven linen on board 25.5 x 25.5 cm

28 Colourbox: yellow 2016 Mayan blue made from woad, madder, cochineal, yellow earth and aliaga on hand woven linen on board 25.5 x 25.5 cm

29 Painting Pigments 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, woad indigo, titanium white, madder, cochineal, ink and gesso on calico mordant printed with cochineal and madder on board 87.5 x 150 cm

30 Trelis 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, indigo woad, titanium white and gesso on calico mordant printed with madder and cochineal on board 48 x 60.5 cm

31

Rain 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, indigo woad, ochre, aliaga and gesso on calico mordant printed and dyed with madder, logwood and cochineal on board 48 x 60.5 cm

32

Creative Commons’ Pigeon Coop 2017 Mayan blue made from woad, woad and gesso on calico mordant printed with dyer’s broom, cochineal and logwood on board 120 x 186.5 cm

BIOGRAPHY

Selected Group Exhibitions

1978 Born 19 November 1978 1997-2000 BFA, Ruskin School of Drawing and Fine Art, Oxford 2000-2002 MA in Painting, Royal College of Art, London 2004 PhD in Art, practice-based, Goldsmith College, London

2017

Lives and works in London

2014

2016 2015

Residencies 2014 2013 2012 2011 2003/04

Artist in residence, Dawang Cultural Highland, Shenzen, China Joya: arte + ecología, Cortijada Los Gázquez, Vélez Blanco, Almería, Andalucía, Spain Artist in Residence, Art Museum of Halland, Sweden Artist in Residence, Vitamin Creative Space, Beijing, China Sainsbury Scholarship in Painting and Sculpture at the British School at Rome

2013 2012

2011

Solo Exhibitions 2017 2014 2013 2012 2011 2008 2006 2004

Annely Juda Fine Art, London ASC Gallery, London Hallands Konstmuseum, Sweden Annely Juda Fine Art, London (with Duan Jianyu) Upton House, Banbury Project at Vitamin Creative Space, Beijing Annely Juda Fine Art, London Transition, London Contemporary Arts Projects, London 42contemporaneo, Modena, Italy

2010

2009

Creating the Countryside, Compton Verney, Warwickshire Champagne Life, Saatchi Gallery, London Anti-Social Realism, Charlie Smith, London History Painting, The Function Room, London Detail, H-project Space, Bangkok, Thailand Stag: Berlin/London, Dispari and Dispari, Reggio Emilia The Foraged Book Project Volume One: Briefs and Proposals, Primary, Nottingham Tattoo City, curated by guest artist Samson Kambalu, Castlefield Gallery, Manchester Passage, curated by Simon Keenleyside, Blindarte Contemporanea, Naples Polemically Small, Torrance Art Museum, Los Angeles, California The Saatchi Gallery in Adelaide: British Art Now, Gallery of South Australia, Adelaide Mock Tudor, Transition Gallery, London Miasmas, ASC Gallery, London Newspeak: British Art Now, Part 1, Saatchi Gallery, London John Moores Painting Prize, Walker Gallery, Liverpool Newspeak, The Hermitage State Museum, St Petersburg The Artist’s Studio, Compton Verney, Warwickshire Back to the Future, Robilant+Voena and Stair Sainty, London

Selected Bibliography 2007

2006 2005

2004

2003

Annely Juda – A Celebration, Annely Juda Fine Art, London Artificial Glory, Standpoint Gallery, London Cunning Chapters, The British Library, London The Spiral of Time, APT, London Responding to Rome, Estorick Collection, London The Jerwood Drawing Prize 2005, Jerwood Space, London (touring) Spiral of Time, OHOA, Reading Hand in Hand we walk alone, Clapham Art Gallery, London Pocket-Scopic, Sartorial Contemporary Art, London If you go down to the woods today…, Rockwell Gallery, London Spazi Aperti, Romanian Academy, Rome Extra-Natura: Konst! Scopriamo la Svezia, 42contemporaneo, Modena Compass, Sala 1, Rome Bloomberg New Contemporaries 2003, Manchester, London Vaguely Romantic, Rosie Wilde, London Rockwell, Rockwell Gallery London

Mutual Dependencies, edited by Katharine Meynell, Artwords Press, 2011 ‘Saatchi’s Newspeak: the Good, Bad and Indifferent‘, Adrian Searle, The Guardian, June 7 2010, p18, G2 Section ‘Newspeak: British Art Now’, Sean O’Hagan, The Observer, June 6 2010, p35, New Review Section ‘Saatchi vuelve a vender una nueva ola de artistas’, Conxa Rodríguez, El Público, June 2 2010 ‘Newspeak: British Art Now, Part 1’, Martin Herbert, Time Out, June 3 2010 ‘Gestern Haifish, heute Kartoffelesser’, Alexander Menden, Süddeutsche Zeitung, June 8 2010 ‘La Génération des Anglais bien sages‘, Guy Duplat, La Libre, June 8 2010 ‘La nouvelle génération de l’art Britannique exposée à Londres’, Next Liberation, June 3 2010 ‘Portrait of the Artists Right Now’, Rachel CampbellJohnston, The Times, May 24 2010, p50 ‘In the Frame’, Francesca Gavin, Vogue Magazine, June 2010, p75 ‘Preview of Newspeak’, Michael Glover, The Independent, May 14 2010 ‘Not a Pickled Shark in Sight‘, Antony Gardner, The Sunday Times, Nov 22, 2009, p52 ‘Brit-Kunst-Promoter schielt auf den russischen Markt’, Imke Henkel, FOCUS (Germany) ‘Scandalo all’Hermitage, La rivincita dei deviati’, Silvia Grilli, Panorama (Italy) ‘Fresh Set of Eyes’, Ossian Ward and Helen Sumpter, Time Out, Oct 23 – 29 2008, p20 Review of Solo Show at Annely Juda Fine Art, Martin Coomer, Time Out, Feb 6 – 12 2008, p60

ISBN 978-1-904621-81-2 Essay © Ian Hunt 2017 Works © Sigrid Holmwood Catalogue © Annely Juda Fine Art / Sigrid Holmwood 2017

Printed by Albe de Coker, Belgium