Pag martyrs

Contemporary art (and that mean anything after Abba) seems to receive a lot of bad press.

This, I think, is because people are intimidated by it, ashamed that they don't quite get its 'message , or irritated that a soiled bed or shark in aspic can be sold a 'art for bundles of cash. 'I could do that! is often the cry. . .

Well, I would agree that I have seen some awful, painfully pompous work, peddled by so-called 'artists with less talent than a dead kipper .

However, take hope, as there I also a massive array of quirky, fun and inspiring work to discover, and it s right here on your doorstep!

Last week, I popped in to the private view of a group exhibition a Lolapoloza in Blue Boar Street, Oxford. The exhibition was organised by artisjustaword, a grassroots organisation (now a charity) whose aim is to make art accessible and fun for everybody.

The show features 12 artists from a multitude of disciplines including photography, film and graphic art. Visiting artisjustaword exhibitions is a real highlight, as they strive to showcase the work of talented local artists, most of whom genuinely deserve to be seen.

It's a very different experience from The Oxford Open at Modern Art Oxford, as despite the small size of the venue, the work is actually given space to 'air (as it happens, the small gallery space makes it cosy and intimate - the perfect condition for art appreciation). The show is charming, and it s refreshing to know that illustration and graphic design are being celebrated to the same extent a the more traditional fine art disciplines of photography and film.

I also managed to squeeze in a visit to the Oxfordshire Visual Arts Development Agency (OVADA) in Gloucester Green, Oxford, attending the preview of 'Locations , a solo exhibition by Clair Chinnery. The show seems to focus on collections; mermaid s purses; digitally manipulated photographs of phallic-looking mushrooms; a cabinet of curiosities; a series of photographs of bird s nests, and s so the list goes on.

Although it was very well curated it did feel a bit disconnected, and I was surprised to see such a wide range of work had come from just one individual. Plus I thought the stuffed rats were an unnecessary addition, but then I m not partial t to taxidermy before supper (or for supper for that matter. . . ).

My favourite work was along the wall of the lowe floor gallery, where a row of sorry-looking peg doll martyrs were sitting, all of whom had been de-capacitated, beheaded, burned alive, or suffered some other intolerable cruelty.

Each was labelled individually with his or he name, along with the method of death. I noticed people seemed very entertained by these little figures, mainly because they were so naively executed (pardon the pun), making them all the more lovable.

Indeed, it was amusing to watch others attempt to pick out which creature had suffered the worst fate, and I can t pretend I wasn't t secretly doing the same.

Later, whilst sipping away at a couple of cocktails in Freud on Walton Street, Oxford, I realised that I was once again surrounded by art.

The only shame is that with such an amazing space, the possibilities should be endless.

Instead, most of the paintings looked like the belonged on the walls of a McDonalds. But each to their own. Visual art is a lot like Marmite, you either love it or hate it. You don't necessarily have to understand it, but you have to taste it first to find out.

And you never know, you migh just love a thin spread of art with your tea and toast

12:05pm Monday 3rd March 2008

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