Galerie Dennis Cooper presents ... Jonathan Mayhew's drawings

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Autobio

'I'm an artist that works in various media. Mostly drawing, video and sculpture. I've exhibited in Ireland and Europe in various exhibitions. Along with my practice I ran (with the lovely Fiona Chambers) a non profit space called One Gallery in Dublin (tis now dead (not my fault either)). I'm makin some soundworks and improvised music at the mo too under the mane Evelyn War (pun intended).' -- J.M.

Selected CV

Jan - Mar’09 The Cusp of Magic, Galleri Norsk Skogmus, Elverum, Norway
Nov-Dec ’08 Winter Salon, Temple Bar Galleries, Dublin
Sept ’08 Dublin Art Fair, RDS, Dublin, Showing with MTG&S
Sept ’08 Made on Mondays, Broadstone, Dublin
July ’08 Confessions of a Tiger, Brick Lane Gallery, London
Apr ’08 The Secrect Itch, Whiterooms Gallery, Galway.
Feb ’08 Big Foot, Monster Truck with the Royal Hibernian Academy, Dublin.
Dec ’07 BiG Store, Temple Bar Galleries, Dublin BiG Store, Prefomance Night, Temple Bar Galleries, Dublin
June ’07 N.C.A.D. MFA Show, The Digital Hub, Dublin
Jan ’07 Irske kunststudenter, Group Show, Galleri Barbara, Sunndal Kulturhus, Oratorget, Norway
Oct ’06 “the dirt once found in the grooves…” Night of sound, music and noise Co-curated with Mark St.John Ellis Royal Hibernian Academy, Ashford Gallery, Dublin
April ’06 Mapless, Group Show, the Backloft, La Cathedral, Dublin
Oct – Nov ’05 Recent Graduates, Royal Hibernian Academy, Ashford Gallery, Dublin
June ’05 N.C.A.D. Degree Show, National College of Art and Design, Dublin ar 09



Jonathan Mayhew 'Revelee' (1:23)

Further

Jonathan Mayhew @ myspace
Evelyn War @ myspace
One Gallery @ myspace

Show

Newspaper drawings














Ghosts


















Drawings














Drawings on book pages










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p.s. Hey. So today I have the privilege of possibly introducing this blog's readers to some of the work of a terrific artist who also happens to be one of the newest of this joint's distinguished locals aka Bollo. Please familiarize yourselves with the wonders on display, and if you feel like passing along your thoughts to the star du jour via one of the blog's two comments arenas, that would be lovely. It's cold here in Paris, like cap and gloves and two layers of shirt cold. It's also Tuesday aka cleaning/ exile day on my floor of the Recollets -- an even less charming fate than usual considering said cold. Hoping to extend my fairly good recent record of posting the blog before I'm tossed out, I will head downwards post haste. ** Misanthrope, Oh, I was just mildly startled in a positive way if the word startled can have a positive side, and I guess it does now. Well, I have to say your new character is just the most fascinating, gripping character not only in your vaunted oeuvre to date but in all extant literature, and that includes such notable protagonists as Dickens' 'Pip' and Shakespeare's 'Lear'. ** Alan, Craving vegan isn't odd, it's the future, man. You're a futurist now just like me. I'm way game for an Angelica's Kitchen gang meet, if the looks on the faces of the d.l.s to whom you suggested that don't include too many turned up noses. I mostly aim to please. ** Tonyoneill, Two extra weeks, nice. Michael's a pip of a fellow. Or I'm hoping so since I'm late on delivering something to him myself. Yeah, I really think Raymond will suit you. Correct me if I'm wrong. ** David, Oh, that blog you linked to is most charming. Everyone, be charmed. How quaintly scandalizing! Thank you, buddy. ** David Ehrenstein, That nightclub scene with the drag theater troupe was really amazing and completely trippy. All those incongruous, telling, weird reactions shots. Stunning. That's when the movie hooked me completely for good. A real find, that film. ** Empty Frame, The Prix Sade is a sculpture. It's a woman's high heel shoe with a giant, unnervingly realistic human-looking tongue pouring out of the shoe, and the shoe/tongue sit on the surface of a round mirror with a faux-old fashioned frame. I heard your sea was freaking out. Our sky has been freaking out. ** Stan_cz, I would just, if possible, indicate on the forms that the dates of your previous visits are best guesses. I don't think that should be any big deal. I'm sure that happens a lot. It would only matter if your visa was suspicious to begin with, and you're just a strapping young German fellow going to the US of A to make your fortune, and America still loves that dream as long as the dreamer is white and not Russian. ** Bernard Welt, I'll eat Thai Mee Up. I'll eat it and reorder it and eat more and more of it until I puke it all over each and every one of you if that makes all of you happy. ** Wolf, I think most of those guys never get further than typing out their fantasies in the profile space and posting them and maybe having some resulting flirty chats, if you want my guess. I think 'Paranormal Activity' opens here tomorrow, and I'm pretty sure I won't miss it. No, I don't believe in possession in the paranormal sense. I believe a fucked up brain with a wild imagination can fill a human body with something pretty fucking strange feeling and seeming though. ** Eric, Hi Eric aka Maxim. Yes, Tim said you'd be contacting me. I'd love to meet up while you're here. How about if you send me an email at dcooperweb@gmail.com, and we can make a plan that way or immediately exchange phone contact info and make a plan voice to voice. I look forward to meeting you! ** Put The Lotion In The Basket, I think all I did was make your rain slide over here, which was okay. Par for the Parisian course of late. Anything for my pal Nick. It's clear today, though, so I hope that rain didn't sneak back to London while I was sleeping. No, there's never been a Beckford Day here, and, yes, I'm vastly and fantastically interested in such a Day if you're offering one. I would deeply love that. Thanks, man! ** Bollo, I hope I did okay in my attempt to do what you do the beginnings of justice, and thank you for letting me up the richness quotient of this place. That was a very nice NYC story. Nice for you, nice for us. Here's a sadder, related St. Marks Place veggie eaterie story. I was eating at such a place in the early 80s, and this girl with whom I had previously been coupled during a strange year in my life where I decided I was straight was working as a waiter there, and she knew I was artistically and sexually obsessed with Ian McCulloch of Echo & the Bunnymen at the time, and, over a probably decent meal of veggie whatevers, she stopped by my table and dropped the tidbit that IM had been into the restaurant the other day, flirted wildly with her, gave her his number, and she was going to fuck him that very night, and so she did, and then she wouldn't tell me even the slightest detail of how/what it was like, but she said she'd told IM about this guy whom she'd been seeing for a while who was sexually obsessed with him, and she said that he'd told her to tell me 'thanks, mate'. ** Mark, I'm sorry to hear about the emotional upheavals, and I certainly hope they stop heaving you asap, my friend. The photos they inspired look very beautiful in the first glance that my rushing has allowed. Everyone, many new and desolate, gorgeous photos by Mark are seeable here (Salton Sea) and here (Vallejo). ** Statictick, No, it wasn't just your mood: those were the funniest slave profiles ever, or I thought/think so. Thank you for noticing. Glad all bullets were dodged, man, and I hope the traveling bucks accrue. ** Steevee, Oh, sorry for misreading your comment. My eyes tend to scurry when I do the p.s., and sometimes that bites me in the ass. Everyone, Query from Steevee, and please help him out if you know the answer: 'Does anyone have recommendations for a lab in New York that can trransfer DVDs to DVCAM? I was planning on doing it at Rafik, but I looked them up on Google and said that all their recent ratings were horrible and complained about their service.' ** Scunnard, Man, it's wet and cold over in this part of the globe so far, so bring your raincoat. I was trying to remember British name for raincoats, but I couldn't. The British have such charming names for clothes items, like wellies (sp?) and anoraks and so on. I wonder why British names for things are cuter than Americans' names for thing, or maybe I mean more successfully cute? ** No more teenagekicks, I'm sure Bradford Morrow is as thrilled as you are, or he'd better be. I'll start scouting that issue pronto. Pale blurs are the best blurs. All the best shoegazer bands were pale. Coincidence? I think not. ** Oscar B, Escorts not slaves, although I'm sure those slaves wouldn't mind getting a few bob in return for their acquiescence. See, there's another one of those charming English words: bob. Yeah, the rain was gross. Let's meet up today even if the currently blue-ish sky betrays us. The curator meeting thing was okay-ish. Talk to you in a bit-ish. ** SYpHA_69, I used to go vegan once a year or so, and I was always in situations where I had to eat at restaurants with pals and yet not eat a thing, and it was always okay, so don't worry. And shyness is okay, nice even. You won't be the only one. Don't worry a thing about that. ** JW Veldhoen, What a background. It's amazing that you're still you. It's amazing that we can relate, given my all but total absence of religious input. How can one not love humans when you realize how fucking weird we are, you know? If we were dogs, we'd bark at each other. ** _Black_Acrylic, I only went to the gym once, and my unsuitability didn't cause a scene either. I think maybe gym rats have a bad rap. ** Tosh, Yeah, 'Adelph' was hiding inside one of my inert black rectangles, and it was so amazing a film that people not only found it but trumpeted their find. I've read a couple of Ellroy novels. They're not bad, kind of jazzy and fun. There's something slightly too acceptable about them that lowers my interest a bit, but you're right that it could be just the style of his personal parading or something. ** NB, That Coolio number is a guilty pleasure for me. I can not believe you did those slave revisions and, more than that, that your wit didn't flag for even a second. Clicks like gold dubloons from heaven, my friend. ** Inthemostpeculiarway, Okay, not that it matters a hill of beans, but two days in a row of denigrations re: 'Lost Highway' cause me to insert my contrary opinion that, while imperfect, it's a fucking knock-out and Lynch's second or third best film, IMO, not to mention that I probably wouldn't have written my novel 'Period' the way I did without that film's intervention, which might in fact be a strike against the film, but nonetheless. I couldn't find a Wiki on Un Regard Moderne, but I did find this, which looks exactly like a Wiki page. Bendy snub? What's that guy's problem? He was probably just on an anti-social drug. Oh, ha ha, re: your friend's funeral. I've always thought someone should play the same Bee Gees' 'Tragedy' at someone's funeral, or else the Farrelly Brothers should get on that idea. I'm very glad Oswald has made his debut in your fiction. Is he gonna take it over? My day: First, the usual writing and cheese wrapped in a flour tortilla going down the hatch and smoking in the stairwell and stuff. I found out I'm going to the French city of Orleans on the 12th for an onstage appearance with the very good and very famous (in France, at least) novelist Marie Darrieussecq where will talk about 'Jerk' to whoever shows up before the evening's performance of that very play. That's cool because I've never been to Orleans before. Notch in my belt. In the afternoon I met up with this curator from the Corcoran Museum in D.C., whom the blog's Bernard knows, named Amanda along with my Recollets pal, the artist Scott Treleaven. I'm not sure why she wanted to meet with me, and I still don't know because apart from a little chitchatting, she spent the whole visit in Scott's studio looking at his work while I read magazines, but it was nice chitchatting with her. After that, I gulped down some food, and then I thought I'd hook up with Oscar and Kiddiepunk, but no one answered their respective phones, which turned to be quite odd since it turns they were in his room near his phone at the time, hm. Anyway, Oscar and I are doing a collaboration, if you didn't already know that, and I sent her some texts to look at and see if any of them seemed like an appropriate thing by which we could start the collab, and maybe I'll find out today. After that, I did diddlysquat unless hearing about me writing some more and working on the blog a bit is very interesting, which it simply can't be. Ultimately, sleep. Gosh, no links again, shit. Sorry. You? ** Math, Oh, dude, I so want so very much to play the new Mario game on my Wii. Oh, so much. The sidescrolling aspect just makes my mouth water even more. I'm denying myself videogamery until my novel's finished. I hear the game's kind of hard. Oh, I want it, though. Oh, I want it so. ** The Dreadful Flying Glove, Thank you for your close reading of the slaves, sir. I think you know how much close attention in those posts' regard pleases me no end. I thought, text-wise, it was one of the best batches yet (think Beefheart). My favorite, I think, was the blabby one who ended his message with that sad story of his boyfriend preferring 'World of Warcraft' to him and all of their possessions. I do kind of know English roads having rented a car and traveled them for a week or so once. Narrow, excessively sharp blind curves too often, and all those circle things in the highway or whatever you guys call highways over there, strange. May Cambridge catch you like Paul LoDuca caught Eric Gagne's curve balls. (It's not worth googling). ** Are we done? Yes, we're done. Did I beat the cleaning crew again this week? Yes, I did. Now turn your full attention to works of Jonathan aka Bollo and feast away until I see you again. Do I mean tomorrow? Yes, I do.