Dwelling/Views of Matlock Bath

Image: George Miles

Dwelling, by Debra Swann, creates a sense of the familiar, but uncomfortable. The pieces on show range from video to photography to found-objects,  each one offering strange, mutable glimpses into a life which is restricted by monotonous tasks and the claustrophobia of service.
Climbing, Calling and Pieces are videos with sound. Climbing is a video of floorboards, with the sound of footsteps, walking up and down, through corridors. A bell rings; does it signify time passing? Or a member of the gentry demanding attention? The steps move from wood to stone and the resonance of the steps changes subtly.

In Calling, crashing saucepan lids offer a note of auditory dissonance which seems to break up the monotony of domestic familiarity. Then, in Pieces, smashed crockery and the accompanying sound of it being swept up tweaks at memories of nostalgic but mundane domesticity. Time seems to pass while we meditate on the fractured shards which create patterns in the negative space in between. If we look long enough, shapes appear like a lo-fi Magic Eye picture.

The photographs, Mary Collingwood’s Notches, Effigy (Horns) and Still Life are large and beautifully detailed, showing the textures and patterns which are part of humble surroundings and which get missed when we go about our daily business. The photographs show us what we could see if we looked closer and more carefully.

Dotted around the gallery there are also found-objects that connect to the videos and photographs. These seem to be the items that the person making the footsteps and smashing the crockery uses: a pan, a broom, a dust-pan and brush. When viewed together, the videos, photographs and objects build  a narrative of a long-lost stately home from the imaginary viewpoint of a servant. A crumbling country pile, with cold floors, peeling paint and sparse rooms. The videos provide the soundtrack and a sense of movement, the photographs are like snatched glimpses and the found-objects offer a grounding, tactile connection. It is almost like we are seeing through the eyes of a down-trodden scullery maid.

Debra Swann: Shard and Family Portrait (Shrunken Heads)

Added to this are a set of slightly surreal, abstracted sculptures. These add another almost whimsical dimension to the sense of domesticity. Pidge is a set of silver pigeon busts, a rustic version of the lord of the manor’s trophy heads. Effigy is made from cardboard and paper and has the look of an exploding parcel or perhaps a long-haired lady peering out of a window, Rapunzel-like hair hanging down. But Shard is the most arresting and incongruous piece in the exhibition as its form and intention doesn’t fit with the humble, interior-based theme of the other exhibits.

It seems to reach somewhere, stretching outwards whereas everything else concerns itself with the inside. The shiny black plastic covering (is something inside?) is at odds with the crumbly, care-worn patinas of the other images and objects. Family Portrait (Shrunken Heads) and Effigy (Organism) are the two pieces I can’t quite fit into this narrative. They both hint at the idea of children and family, but I don’t fully understand the relevance to the other pieces. They do disrupt, though, and sometimes we need something to challenge and disconcert us.

Go through to the atrium at the Bonington and your experience changes from the interior to the exterior; here the light floods through the windows and illuminates George Miles’ photographs. His exhibition, Views of Matlock Bath, is exactly what the title suggests. But the images are not of the obvious touristy views. He looks beyond the cable cars and fish and chips shops, by-passing the beige clad OAPs and leathery bikers. Instead, Miles has strayed further afield into the more rural areas such as the glades, copses and ravines of Matlock. Some pictures capture an almost Tolkien-esque intimacy within the landscape.

The natural world is shown in woodlands and fields encircled by twisted, flowing brambles and punctured with tree branches. These photographs focus on the lush textures and rhythms that nature creates when left alone. There are no people in Miles’ work; these are not populous, busy scenes, but equally we are not overwhelmed by epic, dramatic landscapes. These landscapes are more inviting.

Elsewhere Miles captures the natural world along with evidence of human interference; unexpected sections of plastic piping, discarded packaging, empty chairs and benches. Surprisingly a few photographs seem to have been influenced by Japanese prints; Bridge, Derwent Gardens, late Summer looks like Miles has been influenced by Hiroshige, while other photographs depict blossoms, show a high view-point, look down on roofs and cut off trees, all of which echo prints from the Edo period. Who’d have thought Japan and Derbyshire had such an affinity?

Dwelling, at Bonington Gallery in Dryden Street, can be seen until 29 October while Views of Matlock Bath runs until 31 October.

Bonington Gallery website