Dave Carbone . Richard Hughes . Mat Humphrey . Inventory . Oliver Michaels . Mark Pearson . Richard Priestley

11th October- 9th November 2003

The works of the artists made for 'have a go heroes' represent notions of arrogance in the face of futility, which is driven by pride, passion, machismo and ignorance to arrive at a conclusion whose end product is worse than it's constituent parts. Frank Spencer called it home improvement. Citizen Smith called it urban guerrilla warfare. B&Q call it capitalism. The Sun calls it vigilantiism. What do the bereaved family of the man clubbed to death by youths throwing stones at bus shelter windows call it ?

The works deal with issues of misplaced loyalty and egocentricism, but also head off towards various dialogues throw up by the different vein's being mined by the diverse artists involved, such as covert political terrorism, re-appropriation of ready-made objects and materials, megalomania, 'Wombling' and recycling. These works are commenting on the passion and fervour of the amateur in his gladiatorial attempt to contend in one of the many arenas western, and particularly English, culture have erected to service the voyeur, be it Readers Wives, The Generation Game, Ray Mears World of Survival, Home Front, The New IRA.

The thwarted limpness of the machismo jostling amidst the dialogues of Carbone, Pearson and Priestley's work deals with 21st century male psychology. As they rev their engines and pump out garage from open car windows, cruising down a high street near you, they know, inside, everyone thinks they are a wanker. But they still do it.

Hughes, winner of this years 'East', offers up the fumbled conundrums of the addled brain of a crack-house inhabitant. Sense from non-sense. Inventory, and to some extent, Pearson, narrate covert, subversive, activist behaviour , but apply it to pointless, anal manifesto's, thus ridiculing the devotee. Michaels leads us through the attick-born imagination of the lonely hobbyist, too old for toys, but fantasising them to life. If only I had a girlfriend. If only the Monopoly money were real money. Humphries offers us a more sinister glimpse inside the mind of the plotting suicidee - the concept probably borrowed from Warner Bros. Elmer Thud, but less comical when this laboriously crafted suicide tool occupies the real world. KABOOM!!!