The Witch Burns, Tin Man Art

‘What religion can they possibly be learning jumping over bonfires?’ Asks Sergeant Howie in the 1973 cult horror film ‘The Wicker Man’. In the same vein: what religious building wants to house satanic iconography and little plastic figures reenacting the moment in the film when Sergeant Howie is literally about to be burnt alive as part of a pagan sacrificial rite?

This, and I’m sure many other questions you might have asked if you paid a visit to TIN MAN ART’s most recent exhibition ‘The Witch Burns’ held at Fitzrovia Chapel earlier this July. Upon entering the darkened chapel, visitors were immediately heralded by a large glaring neon sign reading: ‘DIG LAZARUS DIG’. A striking affront to the senses, this was only the start of the over-stimulation about to be experienced. From mock shrines devoted to Siouxsee and the Banshees, to replica water offering bowls lined with rows of ceramic teeth (or teets even?), the show took its visitors on a journey not just through the strange and the esoteric, but also subtlety traversed much darker themes, like the persecution of women by religious organisations, the demonisation of less mainstream belief systems, and the more underground elements of punk culture dating back to the 1970s.

Delightfully humorous and wittily curated, one had to approach this show with a pinch of salt (and not just the kind used to protect oneself from evil spirits). A far cry from the dour, serious art shows we typically see in public or religious spaces, this showcase was simultaneously a celebration of anti-society culture, yet also a challenge, in the sense that everything was in its own way designed to disturb our more reserved sentiments.

To the right of the chapel, friendly looking toy figures were laid out in a scene from The Wicker Man. If you are unfamiliar with the film, the artists Chris Hopewell and Radiohead kindly created an abridged stop motion film to be played next to the artwork, in which there is no doubt as to the fate of Sergeant Howie.

Disturbing as these works most certainly are, they all share a commonality (apart from their satanic elements), they all entrance the viewer, making it hard to look away. Perhaps this is a joke on behalf of TIN MAN ART, about the allure of the macabre and spiritual. A ceramic weave of vipers, for example, by artist Marlene Hartmann Rasmussan, looks gorgeously vivacious, and almost moves…

The layout of these works is sporadic across the exhibiting space, some works draping pillars or laying on the floor - almost like afterthoughts, or rather, a persistent thought in the back of your mind. They urge you to dig deeper, to question if there is a beyond, another realm, and how you might get there. Well, I think its safe to say, this exhibition is a good start.