a few minutes a day: David Rayson - Professor lecture series, RCA, Wednesday, February 4th, 2009

Burning Sausage, 2008. Archival ink on paper. 51 by 64 cm. All images from Marlborough Fine Art, where Rayson's The Everyday Fantastic wraps up on February 7th, 2009.

From the Spread Eagle to the Queens,2008. Archival ink on paper. 51 by 64 cm.

The vast selection of drawings are snapshots of a typical day lived by Rayson. As straightforward as the day begins, the ordinary soon gives way to reveal a schizophrenic mash of idleness in the pub, off-license purchases, black and white T.V. movies and the always-present curbside litter. The works themselves are the conglomeration of these everyday objects and experiences. Often working intuitively, Rayson sits down in his studio and responds to his environment. Often what is present in the house alone, or viewable out the window, is enough to get the ball rolling. Throughout his presentation, Rayson showed pictures he had taken of the fanciful constructions his children produce out of their collection of toys. It is from this model of working with what is right in front of you that Rayson constructs all 100 of the works in his latest show.

The tongue-in-cheek approach Rayson takes to life in the suburbs is humourous and lighthearted to some, unsettling to others. When he interrupts an insightful commentary about a group of his work to make false, roughly–stitched together narratives involving Tesco shoppers, trash TV stories of cheaters, and cooking shows, some cannot but feel that he may be mocking a lifestyle some in the audience strive for, if not already comfortably enjoy.

These stories he describes as cyclical. Everyday presents new possiblities; new realities, even. As such, his works are not planned out, but directionless and fed whatever is available until the work is complete. The next day is as unpredictable and alchemical as his work, and dark days, it appears, are as natural as innocent ones. The occasional BBQ fire, common birdlife, and ever-present empty beercans, can sometimes become clouded by a more sinister side of suburbia. Rayson made a point to mention that, try as you may, sometimes you fish all day without a bite. This reality is illustrated in the work, Fishing the Coalhole. In it, a fisherman sits surrounded by an awkwardly high-contrast environment clouded by gloom and pollution. It is doubtful that, even if the hunt were successful, landing a catch would be anything but a revolting reward anyway. Luckily, each morning presents new possiblities - plastic bags dancing in trees, commercials full of exotic holiday destinations, and all other constant and unpredictable inhabitants of the suburbs.