HOW SOON WAS NOW
MASA
This book is published on the occasion of the 25th Anniversary of Manchester Artists Studio Association Editors: John Rimmer and Rebecca Sitar Graphic Design, Typesetting: Alan Ward www.axisgraphicdesign.co.uk Printing: Andrew Kilburn Print Services Texts © the authors Artworks © the artists (unless stated otherwise) Photographs © the artists (unless stated otherwise) ISBN - 978-0-9521780-3-3
Published by Castlefield Gallery Publications 2 Hewitt Street, Manchester, M15 4GB, UK T: +44 (0)161 832 8034 www.castlefieldgallery.co.uk Castlefield Gallery Publications titles are distributed worldwide by Cornerhouse Publications, 70 Oxford Street, Manchester M1 5NH T: +44 (0)161 200 1503 www.cornerhouse.org/publications MASA and Castlefield Gallery Publications gratefully acknowledge the support of:
More than seventy artists have been members of MASA since its inception in 1982. This book celebrates much that has been envisaged, lived, and accomplished over this 25-year period. We have gathered a wealth of archive material. Not all has been included in this book, but we hope that what has gives air to the eclectic personalities that have shaped and driven MASA, as well as accentuating creative achievements – both individually and collectively. We would like to thank all artists who have contributed text and images to the book and convey the pleasure we have had delving into the diverse and rich history that constitutes MASA. We would particularly like to thank the following for their invaluable contributions: Liam Spencer, for his succinct account of the impact of MASA and other studio groups. Rick Copsey, whose reflections and observations evoke what it was like to be an artist in the ’90s. Linda Weir, for her personal insights into how MASA was originally formed. Mike Butler, for his essay charting the significant role of MASA’s fanzine: The Granby Row Review. We would like to give our special thanks to Jude Macpherson for driving this project forward, indeed, without her it would not have been realised. We would also like to thank her for contextualising the roles of different studio groups within the region. Finally, our thanks to: Arts Council England North West; Project Sponsor Innerform; and Alan Ward, Axis Design.
John Rimmer and Rebecca Sitar
In The Beginning Ever since artists like Picasso and Brancusi occupied le Bateau Lavoir and La Ruche in Paris at the turn of the 20th century, group studios have played a vital role in nurturing artistic talent in the world’s major cities. The group studio idea kicked off in this country in the late sixties, with Space Studios and ACME in London, Manchester had to wait a little longer. In 1982, after a year or so of planning, MASA studios were established in Granby Row. MASA’s aims were simple: To provide cheap studio space, and to try and establish an arts scene which might retain its artists, rather than see them relocate to London or further afield. Visual arts activity in Manchester at that time was virtually invisible. After MASA established the Castlefield Gallery in 1984, and the Cornerhouse was launched in 1985, there was at last the beginning of an arts scene and infrastructure around which other activity could grow. I doubt that without MASA I would still be a practising artist. The cheap studios, the supportive atmosphere, the companionship and the social life, all made the difficult transition from art student to artist much more bearable. If I had been destined to work alone in a flat or bedsit, like so many others, I may have simply drifted out of the activity. It’s a hell of an achievement to survive for a quarter of a century, through a period of great change and development in Manchester and Salford, and the consequent pressure on affordable space in the city. The two cities now have a visual arts scene to be proud of, thanks in no small part to the pioneering efforts of MASA. With increasing pressure on space in the city, let’s all hope that MASA can find a permanent location to continue its great work in supporting artists.
Liam Spencer
howard fisher, exposed, (detail), acrylic and co-polymer on canvas, 122 x 122 cm, 2001, collection of elaine bennett
paul cordwell, black spill, 2006
Lend me ten pounds, I’ll buy you a drink. (Pogues)
Some Reflections and Observations If you’re serious, do an MA in London or get a studio. This was the combined wisdom of lecturers, visiting artists and just about anyone else I came into contact with during my undergraduate years at Falmouth School of Art. I graduated in 1988 (without applying for an MA in London) and set about finding a studio. Attending art school in the 80’s meant receiving a fully funded education with grants, paid fees, housing benefit and a grant from Cornwall County to stay and paint in Falmouth over the summer! Paying off today’s large student debts was not an issue and within a couple of months of graduating, I had set myself up with a studio in Birmingham. This was to become a staging post on my way north to Madchester, this final destination being inspired by an NME article as much as the Falmouth – Manchester links. Following a slide submission I was offered a studio at Manchester Artists Studio Association in 1991. This was to be my third studio group and my second in Manchester. The floating tenner and other support mechanisms I didn’t know a soul at MASA before I joined and few in Manchester. However the majority of members at this time were also fairly recent graduates and I felt that we shared a common goal in trying to find our way as young artists – a heady combination of enthusiasm and naivety. Many became supportive and valued friends, and we often borrowed or lent a bit of cash (known as the floating tenner) the day before pay or giro day. This social network also
extended to other studio groups with Warholesque Christmas parties, football tournaments, darts, etc. As well as art events such as the ubiquitous annual open studio – an opportunity to network both socially and professionally and providing a platform to exhibit and for others to sell work. Professional experience also included the opportunity to select and curate exhibitions for Castlefield Gallery (set up by MASA members in 1984) and contribute to the Granby Row Review. Thinking aloud in dole queues. Like many of my peers, my early years at MASA meant surviving on various combinations of part-time work, housing benefit, enterprise allowance schemes and the ‘alternative arts council grant’; the dole. These enterprise schemes were about disguising the true scale of unemployment, as much as creating entrepreneurs. Manchester like many cities was depressed and as a result studio spaces were cheap. Many of these central former textile mills have now been developed into designer apartments and private student accommodation – the fate of MASA’s previous premises at Granby Row and Hanover Mill. Alongside cheap rents and an ability to ‘hide’ amongst those desperate to find real jobs, led to a situation where it was possible to dedicate a significant amount of thinking time, if not resources, to art. This thinking space is increasingly difficult for artists to find. What time that is available outside of ‘money work’ and the domestic realm is perceived as too valuable to be used for anything other than the physical production of art works. This thinking did not happen in isolation and various dialogues would take place with studio members. It was, and continues to be a policy at MASA, that the divided individual studio spaces would not have doors in order to encourage openness and dynamic that would foster dialogue (although this has never been as rigorous as some have hoped due to the need to maintain a functional group). This time was of course Thatcher’s Britain and as a socialist from Co. Durham, I am more than pleased to have seen the back of her Governments. Nevertheless in some respects for recent graduates, trying to negotiate time and space is more difficult.
Something to kick against? The myth or truth is that MASA/Castlefield was brought into existence by Greenbergian inspired painting graduates from Manchester Polytechnic, and has continued to have something of a painters only need apply reputation. To an extent, this has influenced membership application and selection over the years, and has had funding implications for the organization as a whole. However there are members past and present who are equally at home using a variety of media including new technologies as well as old technologies, and an eclectic mix of modernists, post-modernists and donotknowwhatIamdoing ists have all paid their monthly rent. Members past and present have also been involved in a significant number of artist-led initiatives in the city, nationally and internationally. Tarnished silver Reaching a silver anniversary is quite an achievement for an organization of this nature. Artists have come and gone, some have come again. Studio spaces have been lived in, divided, rebuilt, sub-let, shared and used as residency spaces for international artists. There have been frictions about members, prospective members, goals, identity, purpose, structure and who cleans the
toilet. The studios have been forced to move twice and another move is being discussed. The average age when I joined MASA was mid twenties, it is now early forties. An ex member friend refers to the acronym as standing for Middle Aged Studio Association. And current studio membership is only around a dozen individuals. The family silver is perhaps somewhat tarnished but there is no denying the achievements of its members over the years – too numerous to list here. When I joined MASA, no one had an email address, a mobile phone or an answer phone. I would go into the studio to find out what was ‘going on’. As social communication has changed, artistic practices and working methods have diversified. This important celebration of achievement, often against the odds, also provides an opportunity to consider the next 25 years.
Rick Copsey
John Gilchrist christened me the grandmother of MASA; with irony, I’m sure, but I was 10 years older than most of students in my year. It was my initial idea to keep the studio practice going after Medlock [Polytechnic Fine Art building], that was the spark that set off the process
masa: memories
anthony hudson, silver drawing 1, silverpoint on board, 100 cm
The Association was formed by undergraduates on Manchester Polytechnic’s BA Fine Art course in 1982. It was assembled during the last term of David Sweet’s painting course. We paid our dues at weekly meetings at the Polytechnic Mandela building until we moved into our studio. Medlock was an old soap factory just off the axis of the Mancunian Way and in the shadow of Dunlop’s Victorian factory and chimney... Whatever was going on in your life, you could meet other students in their studios, each of which presented a dramatically different world to any you knew. I had grown to love the place. David Sweet was inspirational and charismatic, with a passionate belief in the integrity of painting in relation to art history…He wrote for the respected Artscribe magazine; scholarly criticism and analysis. He was dead serious, full of righteous certainty and love of painting and was terrifying. David started rigorous crits of our work, people were often traumatized briefly by them. They were attended by other students and lecturers, most of whom were very kind. We were given signed written précis of what had been said. After having been nursed through foundation and A levels by indulgent art departments it was a shock, grow up or go home ! The real wealth of Medlock lay in the students of that year with their dedication to painting and great generosity of spirit to each other. I had never known such camaraderie…They inspired me with their confidence, brilliance
and energy. I felt that the whole course; 30 or so of us, were a family that all looked out for one another. It was magical, you could pop around someone’s screen and enter their exotic world of art and desire, endless possibilities and philosophical takes on the world; they were positive, kind and immediate. I think artists create their own reality because of existential suffering. I wanted us to stay together and went round selling the idea that we form a group studio and continue our practice when we left Medlock. Theresa Dowling took the idea into executive mode with a list of names for the studio group. At that point really, MASA was born. Theresa, Neil Grant, and John Lavelle were first class, ambitious, capable and brilliant students. They formed a reconnaissance group which found the first studio; a whole top floor, very spacious at Stonebridge House in Granby Row. Each studio had wonderful views towards Stockport, across UMIST and the Piccadilly train arches. They were advised and assisted by the Picasso like, wise and idiotically brilliant Mick Robinson (who was on his way to Slade) and by the supportive, socially committed Chris McHugh and Anne LeMoine … There was much strife relating to rules and implementation, there were rows and tears. We had a process called Consensus, which was extremely painful; it could mean that if you didn’t agree, you were duty bound to either convince the others, wholeheartedly agree, or else leave. We were young and inexperienced, as a result the group meetings were sometimes dreaded, issues left unresolved with worries carried until the next meeting. I really regret my part in that conflict and wish to thank those first young executive artists who really set up a lasting foundation for so many other artists. Not just studio holders, but visiting artists who were resident for three or six months, associate artists and the friends of MASA including those who attended life drawing classes… Sigma’s formation presented a kind of sibling; sculptors. Other dynamic groups were formed bringing in wider art forms; Martin Vincent’s Cuba, which incorporated mixed arts and the music group ‘The Man from Delmonte’, as well as performance artists Pete Jones and Phil Rowe. Linda Weir
y I hadn’t encountered before but ay…Linda was very kind to me and uldn’t get famous as our names didn’t
Walking into MASA, the wonderful smell of oil paint and knowing that once in the studio the distractions of every day life can be
shut out, still feels like a luxury even after all these years. But Soon after starting at MASA I became the life class assistant (tuition available if re it is also a necessity without which it would be difficult to find time ran the Wednesday evening life drawing class until it had to finish when we le I felt very isolated from other artists in the quality time essential to continue to paint.
a volunteer at Castlefield Gallery, and nby Row.
Sheila Meeks
he building under the stewardship of the 14ft lengths didn’t get entangled ...I have a wooden hut in my garden over tea or coffee, and pottering about Also the chance to exhibit at the open
to the smaller Ferguson House studios in 1999. The closure also sadly meant the e at the Bulls Head (MASA’s local since 1982) with a regular group of life classers.
Textile/Fashion department of the Art
d the BT buildings. I would sometimes foolish and dangerous. ut 50 yards from the mill! I think they I’d walk through on a regular basis
. I think his name was Ian Vail? John e he worked. I remember a little grey ongshaw going off to do his shifts as a
ic light (much as I loved Manchester...
didn’t want to be patronized or
charlotte hodge thomas, all about the buoy, photograph, 41 x 41 cm, 2007
The pub with Martin …John Gilchrist (I think was his name) was quite critical in a way I liked him, he was argumentative like Tony Hancock in ‘The Rebel’ but sincere in a way gave me paint, Martin Vincent was a drinking friend from time to time and said we wou sound good Jeremy Akerman
equired) and for a long Dear MASA
eft Hanover Mill to move
end of an after class pint Martin Murrey
In 1986 I had been to America for 2 years to do an MA. On my return to Manchester I the city, producing artwork in my flat and working at night as an usherette. I became a when Linda Wier was expecting her 2nd baby I sublet her space at MASA, then at Gran
I have very fond memories of the first move, especially hauling wood up the side of the Jack. We had one team upstairs on the sixth floor pulling, while below we made sure th in the fire escape. The second move was more painful as there was no lift and no Jack.. which I use for a studio so life is more solitary. I miss the chats that we used to have ov on a Saturday morning, me and Bill Longshaw listening to Sweeney’s Sixties Classics. A studios, a good excuse for a party as I never sold anything. Felicity Shillingford
In the pub with Martin …John Gilchrist (I think was his name) was MASA quiteDear critical in a way I hadn’t encountered before but I liked him, he was argumentative like Tony Hancock in ‘The Rebel’ but sincere in a I felt ‘different’ because I was the only person, at the time, which had come from the T way…Linda very kind to me and gave me paint, Martin Vincent & Designwas faculty a Manchester Polytechnic. was a drinking friend from time to time and said we wouldn’t get I worked hours in that studio, famous as oursilly names didn’t soundwhich good.at the time was in the old textile mill behind
come and go in the dead of night, when no one was round, which was probably quite fo I was at MASA when police discovered a burnt, headless torso under an arch way, abou Jeremy Akerman discovered the head somewhere in Leeds a few weeks later. The archway was one that I My space was opposite Ian Vail, who I seem to remember making gay, porn paintings. Goodwin was adjacent to me and I remember him singing and talking to himself while haired, bearded chap on a moped who used to help people stretch their canvas? Bill Lo In 1986 I had been to America for 2 years to do an MA. On my return to Manchester I felt very isolated from other artists in the city, producing artwork postman in between making art, and Ben on his skateboard. in my flat and working at night as an usherette. I became a volunteer at Castlefield Gallery, and when Linda Weir was expecting her 2nd baby I sublet her space at MASA, then at Granby Row.
I now live in a semi-rural harbour village, surrounded by unspoilt beaches and fantastic
I have very fond memories of the first move, especially hauling wood up the side of the building under the stewardship of Jack. We had one team upstairs could never get used to the rain). on the sixth floor pulling, while below we made sure the 14ft lengths didn’t get entangled in the fire escape. The second move was more painful as there Charlotte Hodge Thomas was no lift and no Jack...I have a wooden hut in my garden which I use for a studio so life is more solitary. I miss the chats that we used to have over tea or coffee, and pottering about on a Saturday morning, me and Bill Longshaw listening to Sweeney’s Sixties Classics. Also the chance to exhibit at the open studios, a good excuse for a party as I never sold anything.
MASA during the 80s, a la Calvin Harris. Felicity Shillingford
Political upheavals of the time were felt most acutely in the North of England. People d
bill longshaw, the cornershop, the lowry
I felt ‘different’ because I was the only person, at the time, which had come from the Textile/Fashion department of the Art & Design faculty a Manchester Polytechnic. I worked silly hours in that studio, which at the time was in the old textile mill behind the BT buildings. I would sometimes come and go in the dead of night, when no one was round, which was probably quite foolish and dangerous. I was at MASA when police discovered a burnt, headless torso under an arch way, about 50 yards from the mill! I think they discovered the head somewhere in Leeds a few weeks later. The archway was one that I’d walk through on a regular basis My space was opposite Ian Vail, who I seem to remember making gay, porn paintings. I think his name was Ian Vail? John Goodwin was adjacent to me and I remember him singing and talking to himself while he worked. I remember a little grey haired, bearded chap on a moped who used to help people stretch their canvas? Bill Longshaw going off to do his shifts as a postman in between making art, and Ben on his skateboard. I now live in a semi-rural harbour village, surrounded by unspoilt beaches and fantastic light (much as I loved Manchester... could never get used to the rain). Charlotte Hodge Thomas
Bolt out of the blue John Goodwin
john goodwin, untitled, east international, 2006
MASA during the 80s, a la Calvin Harris.
Political upheavals of the time were felt most acutel the North of England. People didn’t want to be patro or pitied by government; they wanted and sought pa esteem, and parity of cultural values. These basic des led to an independent spirit amongst the cities inhab and saw a rise and flowering of the cultural sector demonstrated by the growth in number of independe vibrant organizations. MASA was one of these. It was out of a romanticized idealism to strive for quality ar representation, with the studios and the gallery runn on a tight budget. I recall going to London with the g committee in a battered orange Opal Kadett to look bring back to the city. We were altruistic, although w not without recompense, as we were provided with a allowance of £1.50 (In London?). It was the energy o and its beautiful arrogance that made us assume tha could bring the big names, for example, waltz in to P Heron’s studio and make our pitch. To a large degre managed it.
People like Kevin Lewis were an immediate influence fellow Mancunian, from a similar background. Great and appetite for life and art, his enthusiasm and gen
ly in onized arity of sires bitants,
ent and s born rtistic ning gallery for art to we were a lunch of youth at we Patrick ee, we
e, a energy nerosity
MASA during the 80s, a la Calvin Harris.
Political upheavals of the time were felt most acutely i the North of England. People didn’t want to be patroni or pitied by government; they wanted and sought parit esteem, and parity of cultural values. These basic desir led to an independent spirit amongst the cities inhabit and saw a rise and flowering of the cultural sector demonstrated by the growth in number of independen vibrant organizations. MASA was one of these. It was b out of a romanticized idealism to strive for quality arti representation, with the studios and the gallery runnin on a tight budget. I recall going to London with the ga committee in a battered orange Opal Kadett to look fo bring back to the city. We were altruistic, although we not without recompense, as we were provided with a l allowance of £1.50 (In London?). It was the energy of and its beautiful arrogance that made us assume that w could bring the big names, for example, waltz in to Pa Heron’s studio and make our pitch. To a large degree, managed it.
People like Kevin Lewis were an immediate influence, fellow Mancunian, from a similar background. Great en and appetite for life and art, his enthusiasm and gener
John humour, ways oth had Kevin it funny d a space integrity; in his t during sessing a h to keep Morrissey ere were d Mike, the making it ty. re, and ole in d good
made new members feel welcome. Friends included Jo Gledhill, who had great warmth and a dry sense of hum likewise Colin Sinclair, though Colin’s jokes were alway self knowingly dodgy. Andy Pickles and Kevin Lee both a sense of the absurd, I shared a house briefly with Kev was surreal experience like the man himself, a very fun character. Mark Bradley (a left wing Tom Seleck) had a opposite mine for a time, an elegant man with great in although his moustache was forever getting caught in bike peddles. Of the female members the double act d my time was Linda Weir and Sheila Meeks. Both posse wicked sarcasm that would have you in fits. Although t on the safe side of Sheila you had to remember that M was a deity that had to be worshiped at all times. There lots of other’s, chief amongst them Liam, Martin, and M who will be recounted at length because they were th stalwarts of the studio, putting time and energy into m a vibrant place to be, but also one that had longevity. I have good memories from the brief time I was there, would like thank MASA which played an important role my artistic beginnings, wishing the studios continued g fortune. Ray Henshaw
john stephens, lateshop, digitally manipulated photograph, 140 x 59 cm, 2004
ohn mour, ys h had vin it nny a space ntegrity; his during essing a to keep Morrissey e were Mike, he making it
I attended the MA course at Manchester Polytechnic in 1983. After I graduated I had to have heart surgery. Six months after this I was looking for a studio and was offered one in Manchester by Masa The studio had a feeling of being an extension of art school; people were ready to discuss issues concerning painting, contemporary issues and what was being done in the studio. It felt under the shadow of the theories of David Sweet, who was then the Head of Painting at Manchester Polytechnic. Everyone had a role in the running of the studio, but new members were not allowed on the committee at the time. My first job was cleaning the lavatories. There was a very stringent selection process to accept new members; I can remember some very fraught meetings looking at slides. Applicants who didn’t produce abstract paintings were at a disadvantage. Looking back it seems incredibly arrogant and I feel ashamed to have been part of this process. I also have always kicked at establishment. What ever the cause I never quite fitted in Masa; I think I might be the only member to be thrown out of the studio.
I have many fond memories of MASA from the period about My memories of the place are obviously soured by this incident; but I do have a lot to 1987-90. In 1989 Ray Henshaw, Martin Murrey and I went thank Masa for. I did make some good friends there, who I keep in touch with. It provided me and down to a local with garage and bought a transit van for £3,000 my first studio. It gave me experience teaching, in administration, planning and hanging which we then used as the MASA / Castlefield ecash in ( a grant), exhibitions. van and delivered and returned work to Liz Frink, Austin Masa has done a lot for art in this city. When I first came to Manchester there was no good Wright and many other well known artists‌.. independent contemporary gallery, and by setting up the Castlefield they paved the way for John Gledhill more. They have provided studios for many artists over the years and what is more they are still going
Fiona Moate
I remember everyone (or perhaps just me) being terrified when John Hoyland came to the studio at Granby Row for the inaugural Castlefield Exhibition. I seem to remember that he wanted some last minute changes to the hang and that he wanted all the work raising by 6 inches on the day it opened. True Power!
Howard Fisher
liam spenser, the blue skip, oil on board, 30 x 22 cm 1994, private collection
We worked seven days a week in the early months to make the Granby Row space a suitable working environment for artists. It was very dirty and freezing cold. When we finally began painting, we’d still be wearing our coats. It was a great day when we got the heating turned on! Studio time was limited at first because there was always work to do for MASA, but I loved the space and the support we were able to give one another as artists who had all left college at the same time. Dianne Sweet (nee Dixon)
MASA offered me some great opportunities; I have
John Lavelle and Neil Grant realised that people expected
acquired many public and private commissions some of
a group of artists to be fairly disorganised and therefore
which have come about through the open studio events.
preparation, planning and straightforward presentation
I have also had the pleasure to meet some great people along the way.
really paid off. Peter Seal
I was a member of the Gallery Committee. As part of the exhibition programming we made studio visits to artists such as John Capstack. I have some fantastic memories of this time; I remember going to Bridget Riley’s house for tea with Liam and Ben and heard some great tales about how she made work. Meeting Basil Beattie at his home studio and then going round his gallery, looking at work by Estelle Thompson and Tim Hyman. I feel very privileged and grateful to so many artists for letting us in to their homes and private studio spaces, often seeing work that no one else had. It was an amazing introduction to ‘the art scene’ especially that in London and an eye opener to the other side of things and understanding more of a gallery’s point of view.
Debbie Goldsmith
neil grant, photograph from ‘manual series’
anthony hudson, studio wall drawing
nick jordan, notes on a cinemograph, installation (painting and video), 2004
When I arrived at MASA I began a piece of work on the wall of my studio space and I first got introduced to MASA by my sister who was at Medlock at the time – mid ‘80s, it was a great time collectively for made a point of working on this drawing, in this space, every time I visited throughout testing out ideas creatively across all the arts I remember with great clarity attending life drawing classes at Granby Row the course of my membership. This could have been for a period of hours, minutes or in ’89 – It was run in a very adhoc way everybody was welcomed, I don’t think anyone was ever turned away as it was simply seconds. always heaving – maybe that’s not quite the right word as it suggests it was like an orgy; but anyway there was a great
Anthony Hudson
kwong lee, mr francis, mrs lee and me stills from two-channel videowork, 2007
Thanks to an open studio event in 2005, my work was selected for the Stairway camaraderie and buzz at the time… MASA the first studio to evolve, the music scene, screen printing posters for bands, Exhibition at the Harris Museum and Art Gallery in Preston. The aim of this albums & clubs; All the squats in Hulme – terrible housing for families but a fantastic home for creativity. exhibition was to highlight the work of a lesser known artist working in the North Catherine Clements West, alongside a nationwide Hayward Gallery touring exhibition of drawings from much more established and well-known individuals.
What’s A Studio For? ‘MASA’ (an ill-considered acronym for the humourless ‘eighties’) was set up by neo-Stalinists abstractionists capable of heart flutters over a rakish diagonal or a suggestion of a giddy powder-pink. The Berlin Wall came down and the founding fathers/ mothers softened their approach and allowed on board their dusty Mayflower abstracto-expressionists who tightened their berets, arranged fruit bowls and set up studio/shop. Meanwhile, cheeky one-line jokes infected art colleges through lifestyle magazines and Britpop and the enamoured next generation sub-let. Occasionally the air soured with moral outrage when one of these Thatcherite-Pop-Dadaists got funding to cello-tape prawns to a donkey or open a gallery in their grandmother’s ottoman. Splinter groups splintered before they had finished splintering. There was Stella spilt and handbags at dawn over the one available 30-minutes-a-month lecturing position at the Interdisciplinary-MMU-MIRIAD Poly-College. The painters’ tutted knowingly, put their collective head down and finished colouring-in a canvas destined to cover a damp patch on a wall in a whole-food outlet in Chorlton. Paul Cordwell
ray henshaw, rosebud, photograph, 100 x 100 cm, 1999
peter seal, heading north, oil on canvas, 23 x 28 x 3 cm, 2006
alan birch, moby dick, laser cut painted steel, 180 x 750 x 0.6 cm, 2004
Granby Row Review
When the history of MASA comes to be written – and the time has come now, unless I’ve mistaken my brief – then Granby Row Review will be a vital resource. It started as a humble newsletter for the Friends of Castlefield Gallery, but, under my editorship (May 1987-December 1991) turned into a full-blown small magazine revolving around Castlefield Gallery and MASA studio. We all seemed to have time on our hands in those days. Looking back at the technically savage mag – it was a fanzine on the Sniffing Glue model really, knocked out on an automatic printing press and stapled and collated by hand – is a bittersweet pleasure. Self-indulgent, yes. Cliquey, yes. Naively sure that people would pay to read what we had to say about life and art. The rising strength of this conviction was reflected in the price rise
from 30p in 1989 to 50p in 1991. The core audience, the Friends of Castlefield Gallery, got it as part of the subscription deal. Sweet-natured solipsism peaked with the What-We-Did-On-Our-Holidays issue (June 1988) when the MASA artists collectively went on holiday to Cornwall, and readers were asked to match seagull drawings with the artists (Mike, Liam and Colin). Of broader interest, perhaps, were the contributions from Frank Bowling (Formalist Art & The Black Experience, August 1988) and the Sun Ra interview (September 1990). GRR was on a roll from the Sister Wendy Beckett issue on (July 1989). It happened that ‘the Art Nun’, on a rare foray out of the monastery, visited Manchester to meet Albert Herbert, a painter of religious subjects, then showing at Castlefield Gallery. Naturally there was a documentary crew from Granada in tow, and director Phil Griffin kindly made a transcript of the Beckett/Herbert encounter available to GRR. It’s priceless stuff.
Remembered
Sister Wendy rumbled Albert in a minute – a thorough agnostic, despite his religious paintings (‘optimism isn’t quite right for you with the resurrection, I think’). And Herbert noticeably wilts under the force of Sister Wendy’s relentless toothsome piety. The piece ends with him brusquely dismissing her suggestions for future paintings. (‘Do the miracles appeal?’ The man saying, ‘Lord help me with my unbelief. Sorry, I don’t see it visually.’) Sister Wendy contributed to the next two issues of GRR before Modern Painters coaxed her away with a better offer . Given the constraints of budget (approx. £40, for later issues), I think we did wonders, with ace graphics from Peter Seal, slightly oblique commentary from the Southerner (aka Graham Jones), and gentle philosophy from Martin Hodgson. Then there is the clarity of observation, wit and tender confidences of Sue Platt’s contributions. Sue is the unofficial angel of Granby Row. She maintained a regular column, contributed cartoons and would frequently help the editor collate and staple the thing. The jewels in GRR’s crown, indeed, are the cartoons by Platt and Phil Rowe, working under the pen-name of Bufo. The latter’s cartoon obituary of Peter Fuller - with various art critics portrayed as Dr Who monsters – is a classic. GRR turned all-comic for the July 1991 issue: a sure sign that I was losing interest. There was only one more issue to come. A rise in printing costs coincided with a decline in Friends’ membership, and, by late 1991, the end was nigh.
Mike Butler
Current members:
Jude Macpherson Julie Lang Rebecca Sitar Martin Murrey John Rimmer Sheila Meeks Debbie Goldsmith Rick Copsey Catherine Clements Michelle Leigh Geof Hadfield
JUDE MACPHERSON Pastures New (detail), latex, paint, wire and grass, 2003
JULIE LANG Untitled, moth, acrylic paint, garden bench, a pin, 2005
REBECCA SITAR Mount Lichen, digital print on hahnemuble paper, 60 x 86cm, 2007
MARTIN MURREY Cornerhouse
JOHN RIMMER In my Room (detail), DVD still, 2007
SHEILA MEEKS Spring Flowers/Blue Jug 2006, oil on board, 55 x 64cm, 2006
DEBBIE GOLDSMITH I Spy, acrylic and pastel
Rick Copsey Oil on Canvas, digital c-type print, 90 x 60 cm, 2007
CATHERINE CLEMENTS Untitled, oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm, 2006
MICHELLE LEIGH Delamere Forest, etching, 6.5 x 6.5cm. Edition of 20
GEOF HADFIELD Lemon and Leaves, oil on linen, 125 x 120 cm
Space to Create Central to this publication is the idea that studios are not just about the artists who happen to be current members – MASA is a network of artists whose lives overlap, sometimes briefly, sometimes for much longer. Recently I have been working closely with SMALLpond – Salford and Manchester Artists Link – an organisation set up in 2005 to facilitate networking between studio groups through a website. This has enabled me to perceive how other studio groups are operating and the issues that they face, which in many cases are similar to those of MASA. A quick ‘stock take’ shows that MASA has not really moved on much from its origins. By this I mean that MASA is still housed in an old, cold, poor quality building with a short lease. However, in spite of these failings’ group studios still have an important role to play in contemporary practice and the studio system remains relevant to artists in a number of ways: Each artist studio group in SMALLpond has its own distinctive character and provides something unique to the city’s cultural mix: Rogue runs a weekly life class and has plans to develop a new space to become even larger – their Open Studios always have the best party atmosphere. Kings Arms Studios is a legendary venue housing theatre groups and fine artists, as well as providing beer on tap. Islington Mill is the closest we get to NY loft living with its mix of musicians, fashion designers, and film makers, alongside an independent gallery showing international artists. Group Studios are vital to artists as a place to collaborate, network and extend critical dialogue. Suite Studios would be an example of this, its members meet on a regular basis for group crits. Artists and curators from outside the group are invited to participate in these discussions and Suite offers associate membership to a limited number of artists who wish to be part of this artists’ network.
Studios enable artists to continue their practice and professional development, they provide the space for them to realise their ambitions that nowhere else can. For example, Bankley Studios is an artists’ collective providing a resource for experimental work by both new and established artists. Their studios incorporate Bankley Gallery – a space that is somewhere between studio and gallery – no longer private but not quite public either. Workspace organisations have a part to play in the cultural heritage of the region and contribute to current arts provision: Hot Bed Press is the northwest’s only studio dedicated to fine art printmaking. Alongside nine individual artists’ studios is a fully equipped fine art printmaker’s workshop. The studio is open to the public, membership is open to anyone, and the artists who run the studios offer an annual programme of classes and exhibitions. Groups have come and gone – their histories often cut short by the effects of regeneration. MASA remains the longest standing and has proved time and again to be a vital part of the region’s artistic legacy. The list of members past and present reveals MASA to be an organisation that has provided a place for artists to make a significant contribution to the contemporary art scene nationally. The task for MASA now, is to enter the next chapter of its existence. This must include plans to secure the studios future and be part of the current dialogue surrounding artists workspaces. Obviously, there will always be a conflict between achieving creative output as artists and taking responsibility for administering and managing property. In addition, we understand the type of space we need will always have to be balanced against affordable rent. Recently there has been a whole raft of national surveys, including ‘Artists Time Space Money’ and Acme’s ‘Artists Studio Survey’, which makes our own appraisal of MASA’s status and prospects timely. Our sister organisation, Castlefield Gallery, has paved the way by successfully relocating to purpose built premises. MASA needs to be ambitious, combining strategy with action, to ensure that we once again lead the way in terms of workspace provision.
Jude Macpherson
felicity shillingford, brockade, for ‘the last freakshow’, 1999
john goodwin, halpnacht ben cook, italian landscape, found painting series, 2004, private collection