Exhibition essay by Sharne Wolff.
(Written to accompany ‘24 shopping lists written on post-it notes found while working in a supermarket’,
presented at Olsen Annexe from November 9-26, 2022.)

Thankfully no one was watching but I still remember my own rather embarrassed confusion the first time I encountered the humble post-it. How could this small piece of yellow paper stick to almost anything, yet be removed without damage? It just didn’t make sense. Almost five decades after their invention – via a fluke of serendipity and lateral thinking – it’s now hard to imagine how we’d survive without a handy supply. 

With its self-explanatory title, Kenny Pittock presents his exhibition Twenty-four shopping lists written on post-it notes found whilst working in a supermarket. Each work is a ceramic replica of a handwritten list originally made on a post-it. On first glance Pittock’s tiny sculptures look deceptively like the real thing. Created so meticulously that they include every stain, crease, and spelling mistake – viewing the works is as bewildering as my first experience with the post-it.

Until recently, the ubiquitous yellow notepad was more likely to be found in the workplace. However, the work-from-home explosion of recent years has wedded the domestic with the office and the handwritten post-it has become a popular tool for household memos and reminders, often used for shopping. One side benefit to his part-time job as a supermarket trolley pusher is Pittock’s ready access to an endless stock of abandoned lists. Continuing his artistic fascination with quotidian objects and wordplay, Pittock says he finds the cast aways “end-list-lessly” fascinating.  

Like individual portraits these small works each reveal something about their author and prompt us to conjure images from their contents. “Pesto, chicken, cheese, zucchini, carrot…” might find the viewer trying to imagine what is being whipped up for dinner while “Gold hoops, Nina Perfume, Computer bag and Veronica Mars DVD” exudes somebody’s birthday wish list vibes. The strange alliance of “CABBAGE, MENTOS” is intriguing in both its oddness and quirky charm. 

Designed to be discarded but instead given permanent status as artworks, Pittock’s sculptures celebrate humanity and draw meaning from everyday objects. As the late artist Claes Oldenburg once remarked, “I am for the art of underwear and the art of taxi cabs. I am for the art of ice cream cones dropped on concrete.” 

Sharne Wolff