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Does every young artist want to run a gallery?

According to the indipendant we do! Here are some young artists who are running galleries! I know I would LOVE to.

The critic

p>Name: Nick Hackworth, 30

Gallery: Paradise Row

After studying history at Oxford University, Hackworth (above) became an art critic at London's Evening Standard for seven years before opening his gallery last year.

Paradise Row is a typical East End space in that it is impossible to find: down a side-street and up a discreet metal staircase to an imposing door with no visible handle. Within the cavernous interior, Hackworth with his dark brooding looks and Romantic poet appearance stages shows with drama and ambition. "Having a gallery suits my nature more than writing," he says. "I enjoy promoting people and I like the theatrical element of putting on shows. l like work that is epic, that engages with grand themes of culture and tradition. All the artists that show here are very different but their work does engage with the world at large. It's not necessarily a popular idea of what art should be."

He's not kidding: recently, he covered the gallery floor with 17 tonnes of salt to form a crystal-white sea a few feet deep. A Victorian boat was assembled on top of the salt and in this boat sat the artist Eloise Fornieles, for 48 continuous hours, with no sleep, taking messages from the audience.

The collector

Name: Virginia Damtsa, 30

Gallery: Riflemaker

Damtsa is the half-Greek, half-French owner of west London's innovative Riflemaker gallery. Once a dancer, she has the physique and poise of her former profession. She and her business partner Tot Taylor were both art collectors when they met, at the first Frieze art fair five years ago.

"I started out buying art for my family although then it was Old Masters and 19th-century paintings. As a teenager, my uncle would fly me to New York to bid at auctions for him. I began my own collection in my twenties, buying contemporary artists such as Marta Marc. I like work that is conceptually and aesthetically strong. It has to work on both levels.

Damtsa opened the first Riflemaker in 2004 followed by a second space in Soho Square last month. Unlike industrial East End spaces, the galleries are quirky 18th-century London townhouses. They're a favourite with the Soho-based film world: actors and directors are regular clients.

Riflemaker caught the imagination with a recreation of the original 1960s Indica gallery, not to mention a series of piss paintings by Gavin Turk in which gallery visitors urinated from the first-floor window on to copper-covered canvas, the urine becoming crystals of jade green as it oxidized.

The rock royal

Name: Tyrone Wood, 24

Gallery: Scream

The softly spoken youngest son of Rolling Stones bassist Ronnie Wood runs the West End's Scream gallery, just off Bond Street. "My dad was a painter before he became a musician. He got me into art," he explains. "I've lots of friends and family who all paint so I grew up around art. Although I didn't go to art school, I learnt everything from looking at work. I'm always looking for new artists."

Tyrone works alongside a more experienced curator in Serena Morton (pictured below with Wood), who used to work at Christie's. She's in charge of the business; Tyrone scouts for young artists and organises a few exhibitions a year.

The work on show has a rock'*'roll edge and there's an atmosphere of celebrity in the gallery. A gold portrait of Kate Moss by Russell Young hangs alongside one of Pete Doherty; there are illustrations of Karl Largerfeld; every year, Ronnie Wood has an exhibition of his work; and Tyrone's friend, Vito Schnabel, son of the famous artist Julian, had an exhibition there recently. "I often meet new artists for the gallery through friends," says Wood. "And I go to New York about six times a year, where I look for artists and space to show. I love the whole New York thing."

The aristocrats

Name: Tom Hanbury, 28, and Rodolphe von Hofmannsthal, 27

Gallery: Dicksmith

Hanbury is a descendent of Sir Thomas Hanbury, who created the famous Hanbury gardens in Genoa, Italy. A trained artist, he was educated at the Ruskin art school in Oxford and then Chelsea College of Art. Von Hofmannsthal is an aristocratic Scandinavian, the great-grandson of the literary giant Hugo, librettist to Strauss.

The pair met while bidding for the same artwork at Christie's in New York. They became friends and started their gallery four years ago, when Von Hofmannsthal's parents bought a flat for their son in a Hoxton townhouse. "The two main rooms were used as a gallery, which left Rodolphe sleeping on a roll-up mattress on the floor," reveals Hanbury.

Their gallery, Dicksmith, recently moved into a new space in a former industrial building just off Whitechapel in London's East End, and it is being taken seriously enough to have procured a stand at this year's Frieze art fair .

The pair have built their reputation showing artists such as Duncan Marquiss, a Scottish film-maker, whose piece set in Aberdeenshire explores the shady locations that were historically associated with the practice of witchcraft.

The artist

Name: Edward Fornieles, 24

Gallery: The Wallis Gallery

Fornieles cuts an eccentric figure, elegant in his battered suit jacket, scruffy trousers and shoes. The remnants of a bruise circle one eye from a piece of performance art in which he allowed an Oxford University boxing captain to hit him.

At the Wallis Gallery, a vast crumbling warehouse in front of the burnt-out Olympic site in Hackney Wick, commerce is a low priority cash from sales goes towards improving the space. "After leaving art school in Oxford, I set up the gallery with Ross McNicol and Vanessa Carlos," says Fornieles. "I was frustrated that no one would show my work. I work as an assistant for Anish Kapoor and I persuaded him to donate a small sum towards it 'Whatever you can afford,' I said.

"It's an experimental space. We had a performance evening where critics came expecting to drink champagne but I locked visitors in a dark chamber for four minutes and 23 seconds. It was like solitary confinement."

Fornieles has had some success McNicol was recently taken up by Hugh Allen, who works with Damien Hirst.

The gallery doubles as Fornieles' home, though it's not at all homely. He lives amid strange-looking objects, including a luminous pink silk tent that dominates the sitting-room.

VVORK

WWW.VVORK.COM is my new favorite website for finding new artists from all over Europe. Love it. Every time I go on it I find something new to inspire me.

Today I found an artist called Ed Fornieles. He is a sculpture Student at the RCA. I really enjoyed his website. I found it humerous and current to our internet culture. I have been reading some reviews of his work online and he is recreating scenes from Frat House parties and recording, documenting and sculpting scenes of teenage debauchery.

The web page is http://www.edfornieles.com/

Above are some images from the site I found that I liked. I think I am enjoying the trashy/tacky look at the moment (spoof ads, mimicking popular internet culture and gradient colours, photos of people you don't know) This is a recurring style I see in the web art I enjoy most. In this day and age everybody wants everything to be pristine, precise, stylish in order to be marketable but this type of web page is aesthetically the opposite of this nature, that is why I like it so much. It isn't trying to conform the the system and it has a satirical yet current opinion on pop culture.







The homepage changes picture every time you visit, it is the same as an iphone screen - slide to unlock and each picture is quite trashy!

The Guardian Review

American pie-eyed: Ed Fornieles's Animal House

A student installation tries to make the frat house party into art – an anthropological experiment, or manipulative voyeurism? Jessica Lack can't decide

6:30pm on a Saturday night in a warehouse in Hackney, east London, and a girl has her head in a toilet bowl. Behind her, on the bed, a bloke is out cold; someone has wrapped him in gaffer tape. Perhaps it's a case of pre-loading. Not that they needed to pre-load; there's more alcohol here than at a wedding. A couple of cheerleaders with pigtails and sweatshirts bearing the names of American universities are sitting cross-legged on the ground talking intently, plastic cups of warm white wine in their manicured mitts. Across from them, a guy is being helped to suck beer through a hose.

You don't need to be a sorority chick to recognise the distinctive signs of a frat party getting under way. I do a mental checklist and locate the cliches. Space cake: check! Jocks: check! Beer bong and the requisite geek: check! Few British people, you suspect, will have seen the real thing, but anyone who grew up watching the films of John Hughes (Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Sixteen Candles) or Paul Weitz (American Pie) will recognise the scene. In fact, anyone born in the last 50 years will recognise this American rite of passage: it's been a fixture of teen movies since the 1960s.

This isn't, needless to say, quite the real thing. Striding through the carnage in a yellow Hawaiian shirt is our host for this evening, artist Ed Fornieles, a sculpture student at the Royal College of Art. He has been filming scenes of teen debauchery all day for Animal House, a multimedia installation inspired by the 1978 movie of the same name. The artwork will consist of the footage shot earlier, photographs from tonight's four-hour performance – featuring 100 willing participants let loose to party – and a sculpture made from the debris left behind.

I am one of 20 people in the unenviable position of being sober voyeurs, invited by the artist to witness proceedings. It's early in the evening, and already I feel about as awkward as the fake palm tree stuck to the ground next to me. The actors mill about chatting, some begin to grind against each other as the music gets louder, and occasionally one detaches from the crowd to perform: a pillow fight, some mucking-about with beer cans. Atmospherically it is about as flat as a two-day old diet Coke; I am squirming with embarrassment.

Fornieles claims he wants to capture that quixotic moment in young people's lives when they arrive at college – when they are away from home, often for the first time, their personalities not yet fully formed. What he found was that teenagers were only too keen to conform a stereotype created by American television and film, and then passed down through generations. "You are so impressionable at that age," he says, "ready for experimentation sexually and socially. I am interested in this stage in a person's life, which is played out again and again. Think of all these millions of American teenagers watching films about the American teenager which are based on real American teenagers who have been watching films about American teenagers."

So Fornieles decided to re-create a frat party in the hope of finding something real at the heart of it. The participants have been given profiles from Facebook to base their characters on for the performance, each one supposed to personify a particular college type, from stoner dude to math dork. They've worked hard on the costumes, and the alcohol is there to do the rest.

Two hours later, and the place is beginning to resemble, if not the euphoria, at least something of the anarchy of Animal House. The cheerleaders' makeup is running rivers down their cheeks, sweaty boys are spraying each other with fizzed-up cans of Bud, two girls are getting intimate in front of a jeering crowd, and in the corner a man is being taped to the wall in the shape of the crucifix. There is a heavy aroma of BO. Fornieles' fixed expression as he tries to stay on top of things is reminiscent of a nightclub owner off to sort out some argy-bargy in the queue. He is trailed by a couple of tearful girls and a tense-looking woman on a mobile phone.

I have had enough, however, and leave, picking my way through the inebriated stragglers, the memory of a man naked but for a pair of purple pants jigging on the dance floor seared into my brain. I wonder what Bluto, Otter and Boon would have thought of this jaded parody of their coming-of-age celebration. As performances go, I suppose it resembled the Fluxus happenings of the 1960s, where participants were encouraged to reach higher states of consciousness in front of an audience, except Maciunas and his followers sought to connect with people on an intimate level. I fear we were all far too knowing for that to happen here.

Video Editing

Tacita Dean - Turbine Hall Tate Modern

I wish I could transport myself to the Tate in London right now because this installation by Tacita Dean looks breath taking. Tacita Deans piece is titled FILM and it is a homage to the dying art form that is analogue film. The last place in London that would actually develop 16mm film is now closing down so there are very few places now left n the world to do this which is pretty sad. I've always wanted to make animations using film like Norman McLaren. What a legend.

Tacita tells a fascinating story of the green sun of madagascar. In Madagascar at a certain time of year the sun apparently goes green. As she sat on a beach filming the sun some questions arose from people around her as to what exactly she was filming when she told them about the green sun of madagascar they began to also film on their digital cameras. They did not see with their naked eyes the green glare of the sun, nor did they see it on the digital camera so she rather disappointedly accepted she had missed the green rays from the sun. It was not until she got her film developed in London that there in one single frame the sun turns green. It was only the film camera that could pick up on the fraction of a second the sun went green for. Amazing.

Her piece in the Turbine hall in the Tate plays with the rhythm between colour and black and white, it has reference to art history and also to artists who have previously shown in the Turbine Hall including Sun Olafur Eliassons "Sun" and Rene Magritte.

"The subjects are connected to the medium I use. it's all about the lights and time and phenomena to some extent, like a rainbow or a gust of wind or even an eclipse or a green ray, things like that. And this is the language of light not the language of binary pixels."

-Tacita Dean

www.tate.org.uk

BJORK BKORK BJORk MOON

Moon (Ridu Remix)

I want to make a musical montage with all the songs that I know that mention the Moon or have the word Moon in the title. This is all I have so far, If anyone feels like contributing let me know what your thoughts are. No cheese, by that I mean toploader - dancing in the moonlight.

AND OF COURSE