"So the winner takes it all,
And the loser has to fall"
(Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus)
The universal human urge to win has many different explanations. Theories put forward include the rush of dopamine; our neurochemical or evolutionary inheritance from our ancestors; the psychological reinforcement that we feel upon winning; the reactions of others and, most straightforwardly perhaps, the basic desire for social dominance. Winning is something that is at stake either overtly or hovering beneath the surface in most social arenas, most obviously in sport and pastimes but also in the constant aspirational goals and desire to own objects and do activities that signify that the winning is taking place in the ultimate arena, the game of life.
Lydia Blakeley's recent paintings of seemingly disparate subject matter repeatedly circles back to the questions: what does it mean to win and why do we want to always aspire to success? Her subject matter takes in aspirational holidays and the ability to be in beautiful and refined surroundings, dog shows, prize pigeons and the perfect smile. Her second solo show at the gallery brings together these seemingly different themes under the single banner, 'Winners'. And yet arguably in all of these paintings, the knowledge that the only way on from winning is downwards, haunts each canvas.
Blakeley's well-known paintings of dog shows formed the entry point for her to think about the phenomenon of the desire to win. She started painting the unwitting stars of dog shows (the dogs) in 2018 after researching the British show, Crufts, the largest of its kind in the world. From this Blakeley widened her field of reference to a range of animal shows and prizes including racing pigeons and cats, as well as the world of horse racing. These competitions might be baffling to outsiders but they share the same rituals; the partisan crowds, the impassioned participants, the narrative of the plucky underdog, the rumours of scandal and cheating.
Whilst winning and aspiration has been a universal human urge, its role has arguably been amplified by recent technology. 'Winners' follows on from Blakeley's recent solo institutional show at Southwark Park Galleries entitled 'The High Life'. There, winning was articulated as achieving the material success in order to enable the subject to enjoy the idyllic holidays with swimming pools, palm trees and plates of oysters in abundance. Winning in this arena used to be a more private victory, it is now shouted about via social media or as critic Eddy Frankel put it: "the digital futures being forced on our daily realities."
Winning is now played out on our phones-screens where aspiration, success and winning are posted, losing, failure and mediocrity edited out. And yet, despite this ease with which we can now trumpet success, winning is precarious. Our instagram-ready victories are barely remembered as others post their own. Another good-looking, obedient, clever dog waits at the next show, those perfect teeth might chip, the smile fade, the sun-lounger next to the pool never experienced again. Perhaps we should have listened to Homer Simpson after all: "Kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is: never try."
