TANCO
Tanco at this time has 3 meanings:
1. Tanco is a real geographic inspirational location.
2. Tanco means art made inadvertently by workmen.
3. Tanco is a deeply attentive state of mind inspired by 1 & 2.
I stumbled upon this private location, that for certain reasons I can’t disclose. It’s a space I used to spend time in and enjoy merely for its seclusion and peaceful surroundings. Then one day I entered the space, and it had been transformed. 12 distinct, though unmarked, clusters of earth, stone, wood, plastic, rubber, metal, trees, mesh, plant life, and all manner of matter had been precisely and superbly placed all around the perimeter of the space, as if proudly showcasing these creative mounds. It immediately felt to me like a gallery housing 12 art installations, but better than a gallery, as it did things and allowed for things that a gallery can’t allow. You can sit on the exhibits, touch them, get as close as you like, and really interact.
It is compositionally complex. The contrasting textures and layers feel inspired. It contains recurring visual themes that seem cohesive and stylistically considered. The interplay between organic and industrially made materials feels exciting and like it has intention whilst being visually thrilling purely within the realm of total abstraction. The fact that it isn’t intended to be pleasing gives it a matter-of-fact confidence, and the functional nature of the space imbues it with a balance of chaos and order that feels deeply satisfying. The layering and placement of elements evokes a feeling of literal power and might, suggesting its construction methods are beyond the possibilities of mere human strength or diligence over time. The work implies some kind of machine is being adopted as the means to place these exhibits.
Tanco is flooded in natural light. Then a cloud passes and the lighting suddenly changes. Elements move in the breeze, animals like rabbits, cats, squirrels, birds emerge, and insects make habitats within each exhibit. The space is in a constant state of change and is surrounded by a beautiful variety of trees. The Tanco Curators / Unknown Artists, unknown even to themselves, as they are not trying to create art, are simply doing their job, serving some purpose of mystical organization unknown to me. It’s the work of maintenance and groundsmen providing a practical function of organization, which as a byproduct has created one of the most refreshing and invigorating art experiences I’ve had.
Art often loses definition, fidelity, and dynamics the closer we inspect it, but in Tanco it increases. Hidden levels of style, nuance, and seemingly purposeful placement emerge; contrasting colour, texture, and shape begin to flaunt themselves, continuously rewarding the viewer’s dedication to closer inspection.
Nearby to Tanco, though not visible from Tanco, stands a defunct prefabricated hut that the Unknown Artists would refer to as Tenko years ago, in reference to its comparable aesthetic with the Japanese prisoner of war camp depicted in the 80s TV drama Tenko, created by Lavinia Warner that ran for three series from 1981-1985. In time this became, through mispronunciation, Tanko, then eventually the name migrated over and became a reference for the space in question rather than the nearby prefabricated staff quarters/costume department. When I discovered this inspirational space already had a unique and distinctive name, my creative instincts dictated to me that Tanco be spelled with a C rather than a K. Maybe this was due to the fact that at this point in time I was particularly inspired by the idea of creating a company, I’m not sure exactly, but it just felt right that art made by tractor suited the spelling with a C.
Subsequently, in an uncanny instance of serendipity, when searching online, curious to see whether there was anything else sharing the name Tanco. To my amazement I came across Tanco Autowrap, a company solidifying that the word Tanco was destined to be undeniably associated with tractors making remarkable art. I urge you to go on YouTube and search Tanco Autowrap and watch as many videos of their equipment in action as possible. If you are from a built-up area like myself and are ignorant to the daily on-goings of farm life you should be astounded by the high level of visual poetry Tanco Autowrap brings to the wrapping of hay bales. I had at times, when passing fields on the motorway populated by tightly wrapped black or white bales, appreciated the abstract beauty of swollen shiny cylindrical shapes and their juxtapositional relationship with the natural landscape, though I had never considered how mesmeric the process of producing them could be. Seeing Tanco’s machinery perform the ultra-beautiful rotational dance of elegant functionality felt like a dream. In honor of my appreciation for the brand here is a brief piece of non-paid promotion.