Edinburgh Exhibitions

Winston Roeth and Jonathan Owen, Ingleby Gallery 1 April - 14 May 2011

If it is unfamiliar to you, the discreetly located Ingleby Gallery ought to be a compulsory destination on any contemporary-art enthusiasts Edinburgh itinerary. Accessible only by venturing below The Regent Arch - which is, the observant will recognise, where Renton encounters car bonnet at speed in the Trainspotting Choose-Life sequence - or via Waverley Station's lesser-used north entrance, there is a certain Platform 9-and-three-quarters anticipation created in simply seeking it. Add to this out-of-the-way setting the distant thrum and echo of the passing East Coast service, the gallery space has a meditative character which makes it distinct from others in the city.

The current exhibition seems to unite its two artists in their manipulation and re-definition of the art-object.

Winston Roeth's slate arrangements negate our preconceptions of the material. It might be a cliche to state that the works transcend their materials however, through the application of pure tempera colour to the surface of the component parts, the effect is certainly a transformative one. The blocks - wall mounted - easily and elegantly take on the role that modernist painting has traditionally performed; arranged in regular grids and grouped according to their colour harmonies, the slates sound-out across the gallery space like visual chords.

This would seem to reflect a current trend in contemporary art. Martin Creed's solo exhibition Down Over Up at the Fruitmarket Gallery in 2010 playfully and variously examined the relationships between repeated units. His musical staircase could be seen as a literal - and audible - intepretaion of the same concerns as Roeth ; a study in the vibrations and discrepancies between types of object.

But these works also offer much to advocates of painterly patina. On close inspection the colour does not sit on the surface but is completely assimilated into the slate, creating the optical illusion - for this viewer at least - of crushed fabric or crepe. Despite being suspended by nails - the only detail which belies their true identity as masonry- the brain forgets what their natural weight and consistency ought to be and imbues the tablets with mysterious properties.

Edinburgh-based artist, Jonathan Owen, has continued in his creation of new objects through the erasure and reduction of found ones. Wooden nutcrackers and figurines, presumably created for decorative or commemorative purposes by anonymous craftsmen, join book-plates of public statues as subjects of his processes of subtraction. It is notable that Owen reduces, not systematically, but in a lyrical and sensitive way; the alterations appear to be made in accordance with the properties of the original form to create a new one which is often humorous in character.

But the figurative element in these objects - in contrast to the characterless Habitat standard-lamps and wine racks which have appeared in previous works- introduces sinister edge. The Bavarian, Grimm faces of the nutcrackers have been eroded as if by some isopteran weevil. The images of the statues, too, have evaporated from the paper which they are printed upon leaving behind only - say- their hands, suspended in mid air like Cheshire Cat smiles.

The process is deceptive in its apparent simplicity. Though we can clearly see the chips and marks of the chisel and the anomalous surface of the erased page - in other words - The-Hand-At-Work, one is ultimately baffled at how exactly these forms could be achieved

Review: Cinderella, Scottish Ballet (touring 14th Dec - 5th Feb)

In the wake of festive Bacchanalia, January is recognised as a time of austerity and abstemious resolution. But if you have allowed yourself to fall off the wagon this month, I hope you did it in style and gorged yourself upon Ashley Page's interpretation of Cinderella, presented by Scottish Ballet.

This re-imagining of the ages-old fairy-tale is performed with Baz Luhrmann intensity against awsome sets that might be described as 'acid-baroque' or seem to reference the chic and comic designs of Fornasetti. The costume design, too, has invited comparison to Westwood and Galliano. A visual feast is certainly delivered. In fact some viewers - and not just those still recovering from recent wassails - may find the action and fervent stage-business so dense that, at times, nuanced performances are lost. This, however, is really the only criticism I have. It's an issue largely confined to Act 1, and one which only serves to make me emplore Scottish Ballet to consider recording performances for general release - one viewing is simply not enough to appeciate the fine detail.

Because, despite the element of cariacature, this ain't no Panto! Even as a ballet-layman I was struck by how the company's skill and athleticism in dance was easily matched by the strength of the acting; the characterisation and story-telling was suberbly communicated in the movement of every dancer. The formal court-dancing of Cinderella's Stepmother and Father, for example, was always subtly aggressive, off-kilter - even abusive - belying their dysfuntional relationship and and attempts to keep-up appearances.

And theirs was not the only partnership which felt totally convincing. The ballet features numerous double-acts who work together in perfect comic synchronicity: the obsequious Equerry and the charismatic Dance Master and their frissons of sexual tension, and the saucy antics of the Ugly Sisters, particularly, stood out.

Prior to the night the music had been an unkown quantity to me. But unlike the sing-along ditties of Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker (performed by Scottish ballet last year under Page) or even his own Romeo and Juliet, Prokoviev's score was unecpectedly and refreshingly dissonant. Perhaps it is this ageless sound which lends it so successfully to contemporary interpretation? To me the plaintive rise and fall of the Introduction connoted the themes of The Godfather or Bond films - not entirely inappropriate for a tale of dark, family politics and stylish soirees?

Even the grand waltzes and lovers' themes are strained and askew. It is a bittersweet score of strange contrasts which is reflected in the drama; no character without their own flaws and attributes. The Prince does not disguise his vanity, before she blossoms Cinderella is a gawky, awkward teen and the rambuntious Sisters do not seem so very deserving of their fate.

Our Prince was performed by Adam Blyde who injected the role with enough Brandon-Flowers-elan as to keep the hero feeling immediate and modern but, above all others, Vassilissa Levtonova commanded as the beautiful and frightening supernatural Godmother.

As my initiation into epic, narrative ballet Cinderella delighted as nuanced, ingeniously crafted and, above all, visually astonishing. I would exhort anyone with any preconceptions of the medium to see it. It is an effervescent tonic to the January Blues.

( Cinderella is playing Inverness 26th - 29th January and Belfast 2nd - 5th February. Artistic Director: Ashley Page, Production Design: Anthony McDonald)