A Painted ACAB Moment: Bod Mellor's Tricky Portraits at Neuer Essener Kunstverein
To better understand Bod Mellor's (Gen X, British) show, I had to go backwards and see what it is not. Though I still can't tell for sure what it is...
Fuck the police (respectfully)
19 paintings are neatly lined up across the walls. Every work depicts a woman in portrait format, identifiable as a character of British Television. Specifically, they are police officers of detective movies and crime series. Every title mentions both the name of the character and the actress performing said role.
Speaking of roleplay, most characters are frozen in action. Even not knowing the referenced media, it’s easy to imagine the possible scenes that Bod scoops these figures out of to place them into new, obscure settings. And interestingly, they often go for side characters instead of the protagonists of these shows.
Police officers are both an intriguing and misleading choice. Some figure are obviously marked as part of the police force through their uniform and gadgets. In other portraits, it’s rather an IYKYK type of setup. And what they have in common appart from being part of the police force is something being done to them, ranging from adding lighthearted accessories to borderline assault (we’ll get to the specifics later). Thus, one way of reading this exhibition is powerplay.
In the words of Jenny Holzer (Baby Boomer, American), “Abuse of power comes as no surprise.” But who is the real abuser here? Is it the police as a structure taking advantage of their profession to systemically oppress others? I think of the ambiguity of Kerry James Marshall’s (Baby Boomer, American) Black police officer. Might it be structures within the police that put women under higher risk of sexual abuse in the work space? But remember, these are not only characters but also actresses performing! What about opening it up to pretending to hold a position of power and control? What about abuse of power in the entertainment sector?
Sometimes, it’s easy to fall into the trap of believing that in our hyperconnected times, geographical differences dissolve. When looking at Bod’s work, I do not see police women the way they do or a British person knowing these TV shows would. First and foremost, I see violently assaulted women. I think of femicide statistics. These figures’ surroundings like muddy trenches, swamps, camps, branches, and reed are exactly the type of places where they discover a body in the beginning of a crime series episode.
Dubious fantasies
There might be another layer of powerplay. The artist themselves using their power as the author and creator of these works to do to them whatever they want. Police Constable Marks ( Balvinder Sopal) (2024) has sprinkled red ice cream running down the right half of her face that suspiciously resembles blood. Detective Constable Chloë Bishop (Shalom Brune-Franklin) (2023) seems to have glitter on her face while patches of her cheek and forehead skin are etched away. Detective Inspector Rachita Ray (Parminder Nagra) (2024) is on the verge of tears, but a rainbow and unicorn sticker smacked on her face provide comic relief. Vegetation takes over the bodies of Detective Chief Inspector Jo Davidson (Kelly Macdonald) (2024) and Detective Inspector Lou Stack (Leila Farzad) (2024) as they choke and succumb to their fate.
In between these visuals bordering on horror, two neighboring portraits fall out of line. Police Constable ‘Jen’ (Kerry Howard) (2024) has thick fake lashes glued to her face while Police Sergeant Ruby Jones (Sherise Blackman) (2024) wears a copious ammount of silver rings and long, pink acrylics. And both appear to surpress a smile. No brutality this time. No violence. Pleasure and pain take turns in a sadistic theater of hypotheticals.
Jk… unless…?
Bod gives out hints to the layers being only imagined rather than physical reality. The figures are embedded into nature. But are these settings natural? While the forests and swamps make up for a good crime scene, the volcanic lava, acidious pink lakes, and glowing rocks are rather suspicious. Sometimes, though, it’s hard to identify the background at all. Artificiality fluctuates.
Police Constable Mel Draper (Katy Kavanagh) (2024) squints her eyes and pouts her lips as a red net covers her face. I first thought it was a thong. In my defense, the exhibition text mentiones “the actress as a projection screen of (lesbian) lust”, so my bad if I mistook a fishnet for lingerie. Would that interpretation be necessarily wrong? If you look closely at how Bod applies the paint in comparison to the otherwise reasonably naturalist portrait, it isn’t haptic fabric stretched across Police Constable Draper’s face. Rather, those are simply red lines and circles, serving as a quick reminder that we’re looking at a painting, an image, and not a real person.
The illusion is similarly broken with Detective Constable Kate Flemming (Vicky McClure) (2024). The blue-greenish zig zag of paint doesn’t plastically coat her face but rather rests flat on the canvas surface.
Some characters are caught in a moment of distress. They look concerned, frightened even, as if acknowledging not so much what happened in the original scene but rather what is happening to them now on the painted surface. Some of these women though appear to be absolutely indifferent to the physical harm inflicted on them. Police Constable Harriet Finch (Katherine Dow Blyton) (2024) looks wide awake, her eyebrows raised in anticipation, but not from the pain of burning blisters on her face. Detective Constable Kate Flemming from earlier meets my gaze, confident and bold as she sinks into cracks of ice plateaus.
I can’t call these figures passive. Passivity would be a form of surrender. Rather, they are in a state between resistance and, frankly, not giving a fuck. And they can be indifferent. Why? It’s simple. The creator is inable to inflict real pain because these are nothing more but images of fictional characters. Just layers of paint with layers of meaning, but no human underneath. Only real bodies feel pain. Real people do.
Queering the scene
When reading about Bod “translating […] queer sexuality into painting” in the press release, I took it rather literally as a desire based on attraction for another body, in this case the bodies of these characters or actresses. That’s why when seeing the show, I was fixated on finding allusions to erotic attraction which combed with the violence would have led interpretation right into the arms of Sigmund Freud. But as I had the chance to chat with Bod about their work later, they opened the perspective of a queer desire to dismantle and reflect heteronormative media. Although one doesn’t exlude the other in their works. And if I learned one thing about Bod’s art, it’s that it’s not about drawing a clear line.
I like to think of complexity in art working like language. Some words out there are layered with synonyms that might fit what you try to express better or worse. Synonyms are possible, alternative meanings that don’t have to go against each other but can peacefully sit side by side. Yes, this show is extremely layered. Luckily, Bod encourages and welcomes diverse takes and doesn’t hold on to one ultimate interpretation. Like what are they gonna do, call the cops?
You can question intentions and reality in Bod Mellor: Scato through May 12, 2024 at Neuer Essener Kunstverein.
Neuer Essener Kunstverein
Bernestrasse 3
45127 Essen
Website
IG: @neueressenerkunstverein @bod_mellor
This exhibition really exercised my brain. What do you think? Leave me a like or a comment (or both hehe) if you enjoyed this painting theory and maybe share it with a friend! Currently still drowning in quizlet cards trying to learn 331 artists for the Biennale (this is not a cry for help, this is fine :)
See you soon!!!
Jennifer
The Gen Z Art Critic