Blog Post:  Luke Oxley

Luke Oxley was included in New Contemporaries 1999, which launched in Liverpool at Walker House Exchange Flags as part of the city’s Biennial and then toured to three spaces across south London: Beaconsfield, Milch and South London Gallery. Thirty years on and in our 70^th anniversary year, we asked Luke to reflect on the work selected for New Contemporaries, his experience of being part of the show and what he does now.

I am very interested in the subject of artists and the cultural economy as a former artist, curator, and now dealer myself. In fact the work I exhibited in 1999 for New Contemporaries was quite formative in my preoccupation with art as commodity.

The installation One thing on my mind was a version of a sex shop window I used to pass in Soho on my way to work as a curator for the brand Levi’s. The work consisted of piles of books and videos and a neon sign saying ‘Books Mags Videos’. It filled the whole window so the viewer couldn't see into the internal space of the gallery. All the material was turned around except for one paperback with its spine revealed: the title of the book was the title of the work.

At the time, it resonated with my conflicted relationship between commodity and artwork: the idea that you can't divorce an art object from its overriding status as commodity fetish, especially in a gallery. It applied both to my art practice and job commissioning artists through various fashion brands. Looking back I think the New Contemporaries installation was more successful in the ambiguous non-art space used for the Liverpool Biennial than in the clearly defined gallery context of Milch, London. It had a nice review in ‘The Times’ I remember.

Exhibiting in New Contemporaries 1999 was a fantastic experience for me whilst still at Goldsmiths. Showing in Liverpool was particularly special because it was the inaugural Biennial and they threw a great party!

After Goldsmiths I went on to curate a programme of exhibitions for the Contemporary Art Society at the Economist Plaza in St. James. Exhibitions of my own included solo shows with the British Council in Shanghai and Seoul.

I have always liked the maverick spirit of being an artist. It is interesting to hear of artists and groups who find their own unique terrain outside the conventions of institutions and teaching.

In my case after stints curating and teaching I found dealing in art quite liberating. Although it was initially difficult, because I decided to give up my art practice when my partner and mother both became ill, I ended up relishing the relative freedom it allowed. It basically gave me time to look after them when needed and the autonomy to buy and sell what and when I liked. I also stopped being conflicted about the commodification of art somewhere along the way.

Although I had no income when I started dealing the idea of putting your neck on the line and gambling on something you like was very appealing to me. Maybe because of my misspent childhood going to the casino with my godmother and watching her lose was strangely motivational.

I would recommend dealing in art to anyone who likes to work on their own terms. Dealers are a necessary part of the art world jigsaw puzzle. However buying and placing artworks is a responsibility, especially to young artists and recent graduates.

In the recent past, my purchases have included an archive of photographs by Claude Cahun, the contents of the Colony Room, Soho, sketchbooks from the Bauhaus Dessau and this Conrad Atkinson, work exhibited in Young Contemporaries (the precursor to New Contemporaries) in 1963. I have also made some terrible mistakes, which is all part of the learning process! More exciting than anything is discovering artists I don't know about and it is a privilege to handle the work and find a home for it. It is very easy to deal with artists we all know about but often more interesting and challenging to champion the work of the forgotten.

Luke Oxley: Artist Page

Conrad Atkinson, Archival Image (label of work exhibited in Young Contemporaries, 1963)