It's a funny title 'Festival of the Visual Arts', I mean, who'd visit a festival of the non-visual arts? A festival of the Dark Arts perhaps? There could be something in that, but it's probably not a grant.
Two of my favourites at this years G.I. Festival utilised abandoned industrial spaces.
At Vestiges Park you could have been forgiven for thinking you'd stumbled across an old props dump for Dr Who.
A motley but engaging collection of stuff saved from any temptation to ridicule by it's own sense of fun.
You had to be daring to reach the Glue Factory on foot...
Up St Georges Road till you're nearly in Possil and Possil's not the sort of place to be nearly in.
What wasn't 'works' really was the works... or what's left of them.
Boundaries were blurred.
There was something touching in the fatality of this exhibition. Referencing it's impending demise with a nod to the defunct utility of the surroundings.
As a person with too little patience, I'm always moved by perseverance in the face of futility.
Like the beautiful Mayfly, the G.I. appears fleetingly, only to those looking for it and all too soon it's gone. This was the best so far, hopefully that's the direction of travel, unfortunately we'll have to wait two years to find out.
After a hard days art I screwed the top on a bottle of this. Lovely. Off dry with flavours of tinned pear, mandarin and pineapple. On the nose, was I imagining it? A whiff of glue. £9.99 in Waitrose.
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