Dion Kitson: Rue Britannia
Published by Impeached
“I always think it’s quite interesting when people ask me: why do you make work about working-class culture?” says artist Dion Kitson. “It’s the only language that I know.” Rue Britannia, Kitson’s first major solo exhibition, has allowed the artist to study this language in more detail than ever before, and present his findings through a series of thought-provoking sculptures, installations, films and found objects.
The show uses reference points from Kitson’s personal experiences growing up in Dudley to reframe the conversation about class and culture in Britain. For anyone unfamiliar, Dudley is a market town in England’s Black Country which prides itself as the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution and, as such, is now repleted with ruination - a metaphor for the wider state of British towns.
Upon entering Rue Britannia, you’re greeted by an engineer with his head buried in a metal box of wires. It takes a second glance to realise that - while the BT Openreach green box he is working on and the high-vis vest he is wearing are authentic - the engineer is not a real person. Wandering past the ‘waxwork’ worker (a 3D printed life-sized figure), you gaze upon Ode to Rubbish Mountain, a miniature recreation of a landfill pile that was finally removed from Brierly Hill in the Black Country in 2016 after 5-years of campaigning from residents. The mini mound highlights the injustice surrounding this piece of local history while an accompanying video showing news clips from the time pokes gentle fun at the media frenzy this pile of trash evoked. Drastically different in scale, this pair of exhibits introduces a witty and intriguing tone which only strengthens as you walk on.
“A lot of my work is about the simplicity of objects the narratives that they can produce and the emotions that they can evoke,” explains Kitson. The minimalist design of the exhibition leaves plenty of room for contemplation. Ikon Gallery, a highly acclaimed arts venue in the heart of Birmingham, currently celebrating its 60th anniversary, has more than enough space for you to step back and linger as each installation sparks a memory or inspires a new story.
“A lot of my work is about the simplicity of objects the narratives that they can produce and the emotions that they can evoke.”
- Dion Kitson
This is the genius of Kitson’s work: he presents the mundane through a slightly skewed lens, allowing the audience to add new meaning to everyday items. Kitson makes a statement with each of his poetic visuals and invites onlookers to reply with their own interpretation of what’s in from of them.
Each installation is more surprising than the last. A slashed trampoline is mounted on the wall; there are pool cues topped with mop and brush heads piled in the corner; and a (fake) fish caught in a net wriggles around on the floor.
The biggest surprise comes in the form of a large, fully-functioning pool table; an item which is the staple of any decent British pub but rarely seen in the context of an art gallery. A young family play together in teams, despite most of them being too small to reach the table unassisted, their laughter echoing around the open-plan exhibition space. Having such a loud activity at the centre of the show is a radical act. The pool table is perfectly out of place, signalling to visitors that they are as welcome here as they are in their local.
The art world has seen an increase in the inclusion of interactive installations in recent years as cultural institutions search for innovative new ways to be more inclusive and less intimidating to the general public. Allowing visitors to not just silently view art but get involved with it creates a much more relaxed atmosphere, broadening the audience of any show. Accessibility-focused touches like this feel particularly popular and fitting in Birmingham, Britain’s friendly second city.
The young family finish their game and move on, the children lining up to have their photo taken beside an uncanny ‘waxwork’ of a young Prince Harry. With the young prince resembling photos of Harry from the day of his mother’s funeral, this is the eeriest and most talked about fixture of the exhibition, and has given Kitson an outlet for his long-term fascination with the British Royal Family. The contrast between the children’s beaming smiles as they playfully pose for a picture and the prince’s solemn expression as he stares down at the ground makes the installation all the more haunting.
The jewel in the crown of Rue Britannia is Council House of Kitson, an architectural recreation of Kitson’s father’s house. Much of the visual language used throughout the show feels specific to the Black Country and this reimagining sets a unique scene. The ceiling height lowers as you move into the room, cocooned by pebble-dashed walls. A large armchair covered in countless sequins and adorned with the words “TAKE BACK CONTROL” faces a screen showing a video of a bird-obsessed man. This space feels intimate and personal like you’ve stepped inside a memory. The armchair starts to move as if it is going to stand up and take a stroll around the exhibition and suddenly it feels more like a dream.
This isn’t the only time childhood memories come into play. “Growing up, the Wizard of Oz was quite important to me,” says Kitson. “It was my favourite story. It kind of leaks through my work at the moment.” A pair of iconic ruby slippers slung from a suspended telegraph wire nod to the trippy whimsical tale of searching for the way home which has become a major inspiration. There’s no place like home: the famous turn of phrase takes on a new meaning when said with such a wry tone.
The Wizard of Oz also inspired one of the exhibits in Silver Lining, another solo show also by Kitson which is running concurrently with Rue Britannia. The off-site commission at J.W. Evans Silver Factory in Birmingham’s Jewellery Quarter includes a model of The Tin Man created using a cast of his own face.
This second act utilises Kitson’s skills as a jewellery maker to further celebrate the heritage of his home city. The venue is a former silver factory which has been preserved in situ, containing a plethora of equipment and materials previously used in the manufacturing of silverware alongside personal items from the people who used to work there.
The show presents a collection of intriguing new objects: golden cigarette butts, metal cider bottles and silver heroin spoons. As ever, the darkness is offset with a light laughter. A hammer, apparently bent through telekinesis, is found amongst the tools; a cut-out figure of a footballer from Kitson’s beloved Wolverhampton Wanderers stands proudly in the middle of the room; an empty cupboard has been transformed into a cabinet of curiosities full of deflated footballs.
“I think the objects speak for themselves,” says Kitson, speaking about the football-related items dotted around the space. “It’s a really good representation of a lost dream. How many footballers are there in the world? There’s not many.” These once joyful objects now sit among artefacts - authentic and invented - paying homage to faded remnants of glories gone by.
This signature dark humour, coupled with heaps of ingenuity and practical skill, has allowed Kitson the opportunity to debut with a double-showing of his talents. Both exhibitions have been created in partnership with English Heritage but manage to tell an alternative account of modern British History than we are used to hearing.
“I’m passionate about talking about different dialogues. I think that in the Black Country, in the West Midlands, we have got these kind of talking points that we stick to about our heritage. As an artist that has grown up here, I kind of want to talk about it differently.”
- Dion Kitson
“I’m passionate about talking about different dialogues,” Kitson explains. “I think that in the Black Country, in the West Midlands, we have got these kind of talking points that we stick to about our heritage. As an artist that has grown up here, I kind of want to talk about it differently.”
By reframing heritage in this way, Kitson hosts a complex and contradictory discussion. His work is serious yet silly; playful yet provocative; humorous yet heartfelt. Kitson paints a portrait of Britain as a character who is both deeply troubled and utterly ridiculous. Whether you’re Dudley born or hail from the land of Oz, you’re sure to be intrigued, bemused and entertained by this alarmingly accurate portrayal.
This article was originally written for Impeached, a Swiss publication celebrating creativity from around the globe.