fiona banner is an artist.
her work explores the problems and possibilities
of written language. her early work took the
form of 'wordscapes' or 'still films' - blow by blow accounts
written in her words of feature films (whose subjects range from
war to porn) or sequences of events.
these pieces took the form of solid single blocks of text,
and size as a cinema screen. banner's work encompasses
sculpture, drawing and installation, although text is still
at the heart of her practice. she recently turned her attention to
the idea of the classic, art-historical nude,
observing a life model and transcribing the pose and form
in a similiar vein to her earlier transcription of films.
often using parts of military aircraft
as the support for these descriptions, banner juxtaposes
the brutal and the sensual, performing an almost complete cycle
of intimacy and alienation.
{text from the frith street gallery website.}

fiona banner is a plagiarist.
her work exploits work by other artists {imposters and charlatans
with a few genuine articles of acquired situational narcissism}
whose work has been marginalised by the dysfunctional
art movements of the 20th century, the entire series of 'friends'
and the global socio-political impact of breast milk.

her work exploits the problems of creating original art
in a world hyperventilatinglysupersaturated with images, films,
wordscapes and possibly ... justifiably perhaps,
on being discovered a fraud.

her pieces take the form of pretentious banal blurb
in the form of tedious single gashes of text, often redundant,
most certainly irrelevant, especially when viewed in the
post-modern vacuum of traditional white cubist cathedrals
which are nothing more than rectums of iniquity.

she recently turned her attention to the idea of the classic,
art historical nude {rape and pillage never goes out of
fashion does it my dear?} observing a life model
and transcribing the pose and form in the same dull
method as her earlier film blurb-a-dub-dub.
often using duff old bits and bobs of scrap metal from
military aircraft {darling, i could have saved you a slab,
a wad, a barrowful ... a chap who knows a chap who
knows a geezer with top-notch rover mg scrap ...}

banner tries in vain to flog the idea that pieces of military
aircraft symbolise brutality ... therefore ... by engraving
her mono-sodomite glutamogenous limp-limpet blurb
on the wounded metal ... it somehow provokes
the bouquet of freshly cut grass without the efficacy
one would associate with curator's constipation nor,
so it seems with the pungent aroma of arabica
a tenth of a second after the alarm traumatises one's
eyelids to roll ... it does however, symbolise
the primordial soup of her womb, heart, and brain.
yet, fundamentally, her ego. post feminist icon or not,
creation from a christian's perspective but without
the pornographic existentialism, therefore
fulfilling nostradamus's primordial precognitive theory.
how voluptuous.