Marc Hundley’s Web of Influences, from Brian Eno to David Robilliard
The artist transforms The Modern Institute in Glasgow into a studio and living room decorated with references to his peers and heroes
The artist transforms The Modern Institute in Glasgow into a studio and living room decorated with references to his peers and heroes
Entering Marc Hundley’s latest solo show, ‘Once there was a tree’, viewers find themselves in a version of the artist’s studio. In the middle of the room is a large table beneath which sit several tubs of paint alongside a rolled-up canvas, glue and other functional detritus. The tabletop itself is empty – a slab on which to dissect and reconstruct ideas, perhaps.
Like a pop-cultural jigsaw puzzle that pieces together to construct an idea of self, Hundley’s practice extracts and re-presents images produced by or about other artists, inviting viewers to examine his position. These reworkings subtly gesture towards a need for discovery, pointing to humans’ extractive relationship with nature and destructive longing for a more self-serving world.
Pinned to the back wall of the studio space is a selection of works on paper, including two untitled photocopied flyers that visitors are invited to take away with them (Studio Ephemera, all works 2024). Elsewhere, Waiting for You to Come Home Tonight is an acrylic-on-canvas portrait of the artist David Robilliard in his simplified, outline style. A statement at the top of the canvas reads ‘WAITING FOR YOU TO COME HOME TONIGHT’, a sentiment so profoundly about connection and love.
Passing through a simple set of canvas curtains, visitors move from the studio space into the second part of the show, which re-creates a more domestic, homely setting. Some elements from the studio reappear, but here they feel embedded and lived in. In the studio, for instance, there is a table but no furniture; here, there is an awkward daybed, wooden benches facing each other and a communal dining table (all Untitled). These objects present themselves as functional yet sculptural, inviting but still with slightly hard edges.
Here, centred on a green wall, is Andrew Heard, an acrylic-on-canvas portrait of Robilliard’s partner, in purple and white. Like other works in this section, the portrait appears to answer the cry from the studio: Heard’s presence might be read as a response to Robilliard’s statement. The connection elicits a swell of emotion: the space seems to rely on the presence of another person.
At the bottom of several canvases, Hundley lists his studio address in Brooklyn, New York. To me, its inclusion feels like a repayment: the artist is offering something of himself in return for what he has taken from the works of others. The address also serves to anchor and unify these layered works, which contain an array of references, ranging from Brian Eno’s 1975 album Another Green World (Another Green World/In Dark Trees) – its cover manipulated and re-rendered in acrylic by Hundley – and Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s fantasy novella The Little Prince (1943), illustrations from which the artist has blown up (‘Who Are You?’ He Demanded Thunderstruck).
In dividing the gallery into two distinct zones, Hundley proposes both a literal journey and a metaphorical one that takes viewers through the heroes and textual references he absorbs into his practice. We often use pop culture to speak on our behalf when a situation feels too close or too big; however, we can also find ourselves hiding behind it. Here, Hundley offers a more lateral approach to the construction of self. Despite the show’s charms, it is equally pointed: permeated by aspersions about humanity’s self-serving behaviour and insatiable desire to take ownership of land, it brings the urgent need for self-reflection another step closer to our own front door.
Marc Hundley’s ‘Once there was a tree’ is on view at The Modern Institute, Glasgow, until 20 April.
Main image: Marc Hundley ‘Once There Was a Tree’, 2024, exhibition view. Courtesy: the artist and The Modern Institute/Toby Webster Ltd, Glasgow; photograph: Patrick Jameson