1.27m x 1.02m, Acrylic on canvas.
Artisite's resident reviewer, the eminent academic Christopher P. Bacon writes:
One of the artist's favourites, and anyone who has ever rummaged esuriently through the cellophane holocaust that is a tin of Quality Street will know why. What it says (almost literally) is ''gobstopper death rain on Piet Mondrian's new patio''. The juxtaposition of the spherical, the linear and the perspectival is communicated more directly than a bedtime story read by Steven Hawking. This process is live action commentary becoming a Gary Linear narrative, whilst shape and colour form an engaging half time subtext that Peter reads and Alan Hands on.
Yet we shouldn't see this narrativity play in terms of Euclidian versus meridian, but more in terms of 'Peter-borough or William- Burroughs?' In other words, the ordered procedure of the square life, in tension with the chaotic bouncy castle of loony-leftfield limbo. Never mind the ballcocks, observe the position of the spherical clericals in relation to the planes. You dig that shit carerio (P.C. 'daddio')? Then dig on, because what we have here is the suspension of gravity and the gravity of suspension. With no up and down, we might as well be floating like astronauts and crapping on the ceiling for a laugh. We have before us not a place nor a scene, but a state of affairs. Hometime asks the best sort of questions of the viewer, viz. ones that ask us to give an answer.
"Form, content, content, form, form, conte.., aha haa, form, content", so would have said Tommy Cooper, if he had seen 'Hometime'. And with a completely made up accolade of that magnitude, need we say more? Yes, we do. But that's the point. 'Hometime' is a work that doesn't set you free simply to go and watch 5 minute cartoons, it sets you your homework. And woe betide those who think that they can pretend that the dog ate it.
Brooks moved about quite a bit whilst creating this work, the mental act of imaginative creation working symbiotically with the paint-job. As it took a considerable amount of time and frowning, some credit must therefore go to Marmite.
N.B. My body is not too bootilicious. C.P. Bacon: 8/03/05.