http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The Pearl Fisher Tue, 14 Feb 2012 18:46:53 +0000 a-n rss generator a-n The Artists Information Company and contributors edit@a-n.co.uk technical@a-n.co.uk http://www.a-n.co.uk/img/logo.gif http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 PrefaceIn June I received an email from Sue Jones suggesting that we meet in a café in London to discuss my possible involvement in next year’s Whitstable biennale. I was very excited at the prospect and immediately agreed to meet her in a few weeks time.As is usual I arrived far too early for our meeting, but not early enough to go somewhere else or do anything useful. Luckily the Pensammon is a delightful Italian run establishment, so undeterred, I filled my time drinking coffee and checking my emails until I realised that most London cafés don't seem to have toilets. After that I moved on to tea. I had texted Sue and, although we had met before, I thought it best to use the blind date technique of telling her I would be wearing a red jumper. The cafe we had arranged our rendezvous was blisteringly hot and by the time she arrived I was sheeting sweat and attracting worried glances from the waiters. I was now suffering from imminent bladder failure coupled with severe dehydration but I don't believe she noticed. My biggest fear (apart from an embarrassing accident) was that Sue would ask me to develop some sort of performance for Whitstable happily she didn't. Our meeting went well and beyond writing an account of my experiences she had no preconceived ideas of what I should do.Later in the new Whitechapel café I saw Sue again talking to two friends. Feeling embarrassed and not wanting to create a social faux pas, I sidled around the tables pretending not to see her.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 27 June. Whitstable. We left Ipswich just after 10 am on 26th June. I had tried to book in advance but had been unable to find cheaper tickets, so we bought ours from a machine at the station. As usual we saw little of London except that which could be glimpsed through the train windows. We noted the Olympic stadia under construction and the flats where my companion’s sister had once lived. The journey to London was enlivened by a discussion with a professor of art history who regaled us with tales of Walter Benjamin and “The Night of the Long Knives”. The connection should have been simple using the tube to transfer us across London from Liverpool Street to Victoria station. And it was, until we arrived. With only minutes to go we were hunting frantically for the slow train to Whitstable. Its imminent departure was not advertised on any of the many signal boards. My innate shyness was not helping as I consistently avoided asking for assistance. Luckily my companion does not suffer my inhibitions and she soon discovered that Victoria is split into two parts each having its own departure boards, platforms and destinations.  On board the train we had a simple meal of noodles and wasabi peas an interesting dish which was simultaneously tasty, unpleasant and strangely addictive. The onward journey was indeed slow as we stopped at very regular intervals at stations with vaguely familiar names. Our approach was marred only by an embarrassing incident with the automatic toilet and my panic when it was announced that the train, like its mother station, would split in two and should we sit in the wrong seat we would end up in Dover rather than Whitstable.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Having had some time at my disposal I had made a brief search about Whitstable on the internet. Its history as an Oyster fishery and film set for Dr Who was most prominent on line. I had also discussed the matter of the upcoming Biennale with some of my colleagues and gleaned some interesting information from them. One of them had stated, with some certainty, that Whitstable was the site of Dracula’s first landing in the British Isles. This fact had caused me some excitement as I have long held an interest in the tradition of the Vampire film. I had always been drawn to the certainties in its format: the mysterious aristocrat, the woman in danger, the dangerous woman (often the same woman), the persistent sunset anxiety and the final battle. Unfortunately in soon transpired that the Count had in fact alighted in Whitby a completely different kettle of fish.I had written to Sue regarding the Whitstable – Whitby confusion and had jokingly suggested I go to Whitby instead; her reply tactfully ignored this suggestion.Email from Sue Jones, 23rd June 2009I’m not around on the 26th, or I’d suggest coming over to Whitstable to meet you.  But you probably want to get to know Whitstable on your own anyway.  Yes, unfortunately Whitstable is not where Dracula landed, but fortunately it is where Peter Cushing lived who played Dracula’s arch-enemy Dr Van Helsing. Clearly Whitby and Whitstable are some weird mirror image of each other.....I was extremely excited that Whitstable had this, albeit tenuous, Dracula connection and looked forward to finding more evidence of Van Helsing.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 My companion and I passed the rest of our train journey discussing Mr Cushing’s various film roles. I learned that his boots had been so uncomfortable in his part as Grand Moff Tarkin that he had delivered most of his lines wearing slippers. My foremost memory of him had been as Sherlock Holmes in the “Hound of the Baskervilles” he had played a character not far removed from that of Van Helsing. As a boy I had also loved him in a feature length Dr Who film where he had played a character not unlike Sherlock Holmes. I must say my companion’s knowledge of biographical detail is beyond equal I have only to mention a name and she is instantly able to produce an anecdote both pertinent and interesting.Although it was a very slow train, the delightful conversation, Wasabi peas and the beauty of the scene as we travelled along, made the journey pass quickly. Before us lay a green sloping land full of fields and woods, with here and there farmhouses and new housing estates. Eventually we caught sight of the sea between gaily painted buildings and Whitstable grew close.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Arrival at the Pearl FisherSome weeks earlier, after much to-ing and fro-ing, I had managed to secure a booking At “The Pearl Fisher” a bed and breakfast I had chosen entirely for its name, and perhaps hoping for a discount. We arrived to find a semidetached house divided into a number of themed rooms. Judging the “Awabi Suite” a little too exotic for my tastes I had opted for “Old Saybrook”, named after Katherine Hepburn’s home town. The door was opened by Jan, a cheery, tall and powerful looking woman with a gravelly voice who guided us to our room. It was decorated in the ‘New England’ style that seemed to consist of lighthouses and doyleys.  After a brief tour of the facilities, she disappeared leaving us standing awkwardly among the knickknacks but soon returned holding a hand made map of Whitstable. She handed it to me urging that we visit one or more of the local restaurants that night. With our earnest promises ringing in her ears she left us to unpack.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Minutes later, clutching the map, we snuck out of the front door noting a display of liqueur bottles with a sign imploring us to take a night cap upon our return. We headed for the Sea front, not an altogether simple task especially with my sore knee. On the way in my companion noted a whole roof covered with Magpies, being especially superstitious, this proved to be of no little interest. After a few wrong turns but nothing too alarming we reached the sea front. I’m not sure what I was expecting, perhaps something a little grander but instead we came across a stretch of shingle divided into booths by large wooden groynes. These booths were each in turn occupied by couples, a couple to each booth. We passed five before finding one to ourselves and spent some time watching the sea and discussing my plans for the trip. The purpose had been two fold, inspiration and location, i.e. the hope that I would find a place to show the results of the commission. We tried to see the Sea Forts but soon found, on our phones, that they were nine miles out to sea and would require boat trip to reach them.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Deciding to use the following day to work we went in search of a quiet bar to discuss things further and eventually ended up in a small restaurant. As we had not booked we settled, rather happily, for a table in the window. Seated side by side we found ourselves facing what appeared to be Whitstable’s main off-licence. A theatrical event unfolded before us.  Groups of young men and women formed and reformed as plans were made, some danced, others sang. We wondered if the house opposite was some sort of opium den, until a woman emerged adjusting her nurse’s uniform and we adjusted our thoughts. A man rode his motorised sleigh up to the off-licence and got out leaving his dog seated in the foot well. A woman in a bright azure shift dress and high heels attracted the attention of the craning young men. On the top floor of the tenement a girl was leaning out of her attic window smoking. After a while a large man with pink hair walked past somehow, I’m still not sure why, he seemed out of place. On the way back it rained the light but persistent rain of summer. My companion and I were soaked by the time we reached the comfort of our bed.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The next day was marked by a few fascinating discoveries. Jan and Gary (Jan’s partner) met us over breakfast and told us of a time when Gary had walked into “Awabi” to turn down the bed only to discover one of its occupants naked on the bed in the lotus position with her partner approaching (also naked) clutching a selection of oils and a very large candle. Gary had been unable to show himself at breakfast the next morning. I was slightly perplexed why Jan and Gary had felt it necessary to tell us this story. As we left to explore Whitstable with more purpose I noticed that “Old Saybrook” was located directly above Jan and Gary’s private quarters. The day was full of many delights and discoveries, but for the purpose of brevity I shall concentrate on those I deem most interesting. read  the full post at www.thepearlfisher.blogspot.com  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The return to my Ipswich lodgings was largely uneventful. My companion felt unwell probably due to too much excitement. As she slept for most of the journey back I was left with my own thoughts as I mulled over our trip. At least that is what I would have liked to have done. I have to admit that very little mulling was done; instead I played Risk on my phone. I’m addicted to it, constantly weighing up the distribution of my armies and the merits of capturing South America or Australia. I did also order Mr Cushing’s “Dracula” a Hammer Horror spectacular from 1958. We stopped for a meal not far from Ipswich station in a little restaurant with unpleasant waitresses. We sat outside but under the shelter of one of the large umbrellas as my companion can barely tolerate the sun.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434   Wednesday, 15 July, 2009, 5:37 PM   My dearest Annabel I have made very little progress writing my blog and have not even gotten close to writing about watching Dracula with you last night. I was wondering if you would help me by emailing me your response to the film, the evening, and indeed anything else that strikes you as pertinent. Yours forever Alex Pearl  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434   Dear Alex, Yes I can remember quite a few things but I hope they're not too personal...I liked the Hammer writing (the titles) -it reminded me of the First Reich typography-I wonder if that was intentional considering the era the film was made-I wonder if the First world war still represented the horror of the second...twice it happened it must have felt like it was going to happen forever.   I thought Christopher Lee was Peter Cushing and I was having little fantasies about him swimming in the sea and imagining his fangs taking in the North Sea...and then Doctor Van Helsing arrived and I realised I had got it wrong. I couldn't imagine what Dracula's body was like anyway, so it solved a problem for me-I thought maybe...My mother had an Edwardian Schoolmaster doll. She had patched his face up with plaster and watercolour and he looked like those WWI Pachendale victims that had their faces patched up-to be left with half of their face with an unnatural sheen. I always wanted to see what the Schoolmaster's body was like under his black gown and trousers-but his legs looked like matchsticks and didn't join up with his Edwardian spats. Maybe I am thinking of Mumra but that's what I thought Dracula's body might be like. I don't think he had need of a body did he? The women seemed delighted with his mouth. When did the acceptance of the clitoris as useful and important come about? I remember my aunt saying that for a woman to have sex on top of a man was seen as outrageously emasculating.   What else do I remember...that the unpleasant action occurred downstairs in the cellar. The glacial waters that flowed outside Dracula's castle reminded me of Switzerland.....The deep flowing water of Geneva was very exciting for me...I remember looking over a bridge at the cormorants underwater and wondering if I would ever come back and see it and if I would be married by then. I fell asleep in the park after that, setting my alarm clock, and was woken up often by annoying men trying to 'help' me. The students had gone to the United Nations and I had fainted so I was allowed to wander around on my own.   read the rest of this post at www.thepearlfisher.blogspot.com  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I heard an interesting tale last night from an Australian doctor. She told me a story of a friend who came from Transylvania. One evening he explained that his grandmother had asked that her head be cut of after she had died (not before). He also told of how the vampire myth came about during the plague. Apparently many victims (in the interests of hygiene and the common good) were buried before they had quite died, and some dug themselves out to walk the earth again. The good doctor told of his convincing Transylvanian accent and theories that Vampires had colonised every film genre. I realised I was being obtuse so I didn't bring up my theory that a Vampire would make a very poor cowboy, turning up at high noon only to disappear in a puff of smoke.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Dear Alex,Have you ‘found your practice’? What factors make this problematic? Are they external or internal? What is a ‘true practice’ any way..? Sarah Rowles from Q-Art London, a new forum for open discussion, is going to be the Choice blogs guest editor for August. In her selection copy she talks about, “…insecurity and the lack of time to 'find oneself' as an artist because of the constant pressure to define ones practice in order to gain grants, exhibitions, funding...”.This is a central issue for artists working today and in anticipation of Sarah’s choice hitting the homepage I am inviting you to contribute to this discussion by adding a specific post on your blog, which I can then link to from the homepage.Any contributions to this will be gratefully received. Please let me know by email when you have made your post.With kind regards,AndrewLike my imaginary Vampire cowboy (previous post) I often feel slightly uncomfortable when defining my practice. Explaining what I do doesn't come easily to me and I don't like the words that we are asked to use. 'Practice' seems poncey, 'work' a bit desperate. If pushed, like many artists I do like to hide in the third person and try to come up with a Blairian soundbite, something vaguely descriptive but which doesn't commit me to too much. Some years ago now I produced the tag-line "Alex Pearl makes things and then films them before they fall apart", (not exactly catchy I know) I had to leave it behind when I started to do more things and some of them didn't fall apart. Then I went with something along the lines of  "his work deals with chance and the things he doesn't do very well" I like not doing things very well, it seems to be the artist's prerogative and has allowed me to paint, dance, make sculpture, films, even write. I see that a bastardization of these phrases still head my writer description for this blog, though I have changed to a suggestion that things are beyond my control. Lack of control has become central to my practice (feel the quality of that phrase). Like an extremely unsexy Vicomte de Valmont I constantly excuse my actions by my inability or unwillingness to govern them. When I received Andrew's email asking me (and I assume many others) to respond to the questions: "Have you ‘found your practice’? What factors make this problematic? Are they external or internal? What is a ‘true practice’ any way..?" I began to think that my avoidance tactics were somehow born of the constant demands on artists to provide reasons for what they do. view complete post at www.thepearlfisher.blogspot.com... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 03/08/09 The Train to Leicester was very full. I had had to delay my journey a couple of days due to industrial action and was beginning to wonder if many of my fellow passengers would have preferred to have been on that canceled train. To make us feel sympathetic to the rail workers cause we were subjected to a two carriage train with no working toilets and a haphazard reservation system which meant that more than once new passengers had to  negotiate to attain their allotted seats. After a bad tempered journey I was met by Eric who hefted my bags into his estate with preternatural strength. I was in Leicester to make a film for the opening of Eric's new gallery and studios The Great Central. The idea was that I would document the space using my Automatic film kit prior to its destruction and rebirth as a gallery. I didn't realise how pressing the refit was until I announced I had finished filming. With a large sledgehammer and a manic gleam Eric and  Steve (who had seemed very calm and gentle up to this point) attacked a dividing wall with great gusto. Within five minutes the whole gallery space was opened up and the floor looked surprisingly like an installation I had seen in San Francisco early this year. I am home now mulling over two hours of video that i must somehow craft into three short films. Whitstable must, temporarily, be pushed to the back of my mind although some ideas to do with performing women, vampiric control and magic are beginning to fester there.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Thwarted by the train strikes I will not be attending For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn at g39 in Cardiff. (www.g39.org) This is rather disappointing as I was quite looking forward to spending an evening in the binge drinking capital of Europe. However I have been invited to be in conversation with someone (as yet unconfirmed) at Axis' Café Artistique in that very same city in September. I am perturbed at the number of 'in conversations' I have to do in the next few months as I am not sure I have that much conversation to go around.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Email received while in Cornwall: Dear Alex,Upon my return from the Basque country to the Island of Great Britain, I stumbled across something that you may or may not have heard about. It was through researching my current fixation of bodily hair and fur that I read with much excitement about the Greek Isalnd of Santorini. In reading this information I thought of you and your current obsession with Vampires. I do hope this will enlighten you.An interesting description of the process by which a victim of vampire becomes a vrykolakas from a priest on the island of Crete was published in 1898 :"It is a popular belief that most of the dead, those who have lived bad lives or who have been excommunicated....become vrykolakes; that is to say, after the separation of the soul from the body there enters into the latter an evil spirit which takes the place of the soul....it keeps the body as its dwelling place, and it runs swift as lightning wherever it lists....And the trouble is that it does not remain solitary, but makes everyone, who dies while it is about, like to itself, so that in a short space of time it gets together a large train of followers. The common practice of the vrykolakes is to seat themselves upon those who are still asleep and by their great weight to create an agonizing sense of oppression. There is great danger that the sufferer might himself expire, and himself too be turned into a vrykolakas....This monster, as time goes on, becomes more audacious and blood-thirsty, so that it is able to devastate whole villages."This quote is found in "Modern Greek Folklore and Ancient Greek Religion" by John Lawson, and in "The Vampire in Europe" by Montague Summers.I particularly enjoyed the idea of the Vrykolakes using their body weight to sit upon their victim until they too became a vampire. There is alot of information to be had about them.I do hope you and your companion are enjoying Cornwall.Much Love to you both, Hayley xx... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Whilst holidaying in Cornwall, between large meals and some desultory swimming, I set about organising my affairs. We had planned a sort of Hammer Horror tour; apparently a Zombie film had been made in one of the local quarries. But apart from an overwhelming feeling of death at Mousehole  and an extremely bizarre dog show there were no signs of the living dead anywhere. I soon became distracted by other things, mainly trying not to make a noise while going to the toilet. Normally this is not a huge problem but the B&B where we stayed had little soundproofing and our toilet was directly above the breakfast table. I have been “organising my affairs” largely by making lists and then remaking them adding new things each time, it is an endless task as more items are added before the list is ever cleared.Transcribed from notebook (16/08/09)Edit films for The Great Central – make three? Triptych? Do drawings + invoiceChoose film for Cell outside screening, automatic??? Stars???Bath Show, do plan, DO PLAN, edit writing, new film?? “in conversation” – look up JJCardiff in conversation look up Plowman? Talk about what??Write blogInvoice LeicesterInvoice BedfordIdeas for Whitstable??Instructing assistant to fly planes, sing, do magicPebbles film - ? made -  any good?Pepper’s ghostThe Bingo CallerDisplay locations – seaside telescope (ebay?) – pub?, Theatre? Need another visit?... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 After Cornwall I had planned to travel north to visit my parents. My journey began badly as I lost a day stranded in a small village in Suffolk. Buses failed to turn up and trains were cancelled due to industrial action. Despite leaving at five I was still without transport by ten and gave up. It seems the further east I go the worse public transport becomes. The following day I did finally manage to catch a train north. My itinerary was to take me via Peterborough, Doncaster and Stoke on Trent. However, it soon became apparent that Doncaster was closed to me and I would instead be going to Nuneaton. It was while waiting in one such station that I received the news that my mother had taken ill and been rushed to hospital.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 My mother sits next to her bed relatively hale and hearty next to her cadaverous roommates. They seem paler every time I visit. She delightedly told me that the “vampires” had visited earlier but had passed her by; I hope they continue to do so.   Letter received Monday 17th August Dearest AlexI lived with three people in Newcastle for a while in a place called Fenham. It’s the place I told you about-I wanted to live there-there were pretty Victorian villas with names such as Sydney Grove and a shop that sold beadies (Indian twig cigarettes-that I had first tried in New York) and it seemed exciting to me. The first time we went there to look at the house-I looked out of a bedroom window and saw a man running down the back street holding a TV.Anyway two of my flatmates came very close to one another and I with the other-we sort of split off maybe because of the dynamic of living with three others that’s the natural way it works out. The two who worked together adopted the sort of parent role and bought proper food from Marks & Spencer and my friend (Peta) and I where the sort of annoying naughty irresponsible scatty ones that got on the others tits. One time when Jamie my then boyfriend was staying with me the tow other flatmates (who I will call the parents from now on) claimed that they had both felt a terrible spirit in the form of a heavy weight on their chests just as they woke up.A hippy meeting of the type I had come to loathe after my brief stay in a commune in France, ensued where we had to touch a papier-mâché chilli pepper when we wanted to talk as no ‘talking stick’ was available. It was decided by the parents that we would have a ‘cleansing ritual’ and that as Jamie had brought the bad spirit it he had to carry the ‘smudge stick’ as you are not and have never been a hippy I will have to explain that this is a bundle of rosemary and cleanses bad energy.This all makes me sound very cynical-but as you know I am the most credulous person alive.Here are some accounts of the ghostly feeling of pressure on the chest I found when I looked on the web…“I went to bed with a good book and eventually drifted off to sleep. Some hours later I awoke unable to breathe. I could see that a ghostly figure was sitting on my chest! There was an immense weight pinning me to the bed. I thought I was dying by having the breath squeezed out of my body. Somehow I managed to throw myself out of bed and staggered downstairs gulping in air as I went. I never slept there again...   read the full post at: www.thepearlfisher.blogspot.com    ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Last night a bird flew into my window. It was some sort of dove or pigeon or something very like, I think, because it left a perfect greasy imprint of its body on the glass. One wing was outstretched in full flight and its head turned sharply to the left on impact. I asked my assistant to hold a piece of black card outside in order that I could record the pitiful pattern of feathers on my phone. It looked like a ghost, which proved to be accurate as we later found its body in the grounds.   While away I have received a number of messages from my companion. It seems that she has been suffering from a number of fainting fits, I fear anaemia and have asked her to see the doctor. She also sent me a strange Vampire story set in a hospital, it was written by an old friend of hers.   It occurred to me that most Vampire films feature a book, which the hero reads to explain what is going on. Usually after an extremely stupid phase our hero realises that the sudden deaths due to exsanguination are somehow linked to the tall pale man with blood on his chin. That is one of the reasons I like the films they have a built in inevitability that reminds me of the everyday. The book also (usually) contains further information as to how the fiend may be despatched. It’s all quite straightforward really.   The books I am currently reading include Graham Greene’s Travels with my Aunt and The Third Man. The first was recommended, perhaps for obvious reasons, the second I’ve wanted to read for a long time. I saw the film many years ago after a trip to Vienna with my parents. It was a good film but recently the book has come to interest me more as: “it was never written to be read but only to be seen”. It is a secret, phantom novel, an eminence grise for the film, or at least it was for a little while, my copy was published in 1950.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Lucy Harrison hello Alex, seems we're both showing in Bath at the same time- I went last week and your project sounds great! Maybe see you there some time. Lucy Alex Pearl Hi Lucy that would be lovely, that reminds me I have to finish a few things off... Do our shows open on the same night? Do you have to be "in conversation" with someone? or was I the only idiot that said yes?alex Lucy Harrison Mine opens before yours, on Oct 14th which is slightly worrying as you seem much more sorted than me! yes I am in conversation with David Pinder. Yours with JJ should be good too, do you know him? Lucy Prompted by Lucy's Facebook wall posts, I have finally finished a rough version of my show for Bath on "Sketch Up" and sent it by ftp to Bath. My experience with the free software has made me think more carefully about the description New Media Artist. If it means someone who can lose whole files with a click of a button, turn buiildings inside out, is proud when he is finally able to spend an hour at the computer without screaming "oh you bloody bastard bugger" or something similar - then I am a New Media Artist.   Lucy's message cheered me a little, though I think her idea that I was more sorted was a little misplaced. She seems keen on the idea of conversation, a concept I still have trouble grasping. I am spending a lot of time in graveyards at the moment, my companion seems drawn to them. We sat in the shade and I practiced talking about things.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The dreaded moment of my first conversation approaches. It was not without trepidation that I made some tentative posts on the Axis website today in response to topics given to me. Mr Plowman has yet to respond and he remains a shadowy figure. I reproduce the subject of our conversation here in the hope that repetition may make the fear lessen. ‘Today, artists complain that they have no practical impact on society, that their projects fail, that they cannot change the world. But, fundamentally, every work is senseless and every project fails…Art is a wonderful place where you can reflect on the failure of utopia – repeating time and again, it is something that is almost impossible outside of art.’ Boris Groys, Tate Etc. Summer ‘09 • It is commonly said that you learn more from your failures than successes, so does making work that celebrates our limitations and frustrations teach us something about ourselves? • At what point do ‘interventions’ become so discreet that they barely engage with the audience at all? • How much does art rely on interaction with an audience?... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I have a book on vampires in my toilet. although not usually a great fan of research I am finding it interesting to dip in and out of. Apparently in Greece, in order to keep vampires at bay, the local people will sprinkle mustard seed on their roof. The efficacy of the seed is not due to its chemical composition or religious significance but rather it is expected that the vampire will pause to count the seed and thus be exposed on the roof when the sun rises. Vampire as Autist? it seems strange. Coincidently I was introduced to an online test for autism the other day by friends who where proud to have scored highly. Iwas more than a little disappointed to only achieve 22 which ranked me alongside male and female computer scientists. My companion (a 9) and I watched Dracula: Prince of Darkness, the sequel to the previous Dracula film in which Christopher Lee was turned to dust by Peter Cushing. In this version The Count was soon romping around after his ashes had been mixed with copious amounts of frothy pink blood. The film itself was all tension and build up but ended suddenly with a ridiculous chase and Dracula was easily dispatched. He ended up drowning in the frozen waters surrounding his castle. No doubt he will be defrosted soon. The Bingo caller from Whitstable keeps resurfacing in my mind he is an almost hypnotic presence, I will have to return soon to see if he is still there.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I have found a Phantom and decided that in the week to come I will go to Bingo. Both these things small in themselves are huge turning points in my life. Only time will tell what will come from them. The discussion for Café Artistique in Cardiff looms ever closer and it is with extreme trepidation that I view the journey ahead and the inevitable embarrassment of talking about things of which I am not certain. Conversely Mr Plowman seems extremely certain, evangelical even. Our brief exchanges on the axis discussion board (http://www.axisweb.org/dlForum.aspx?ESSAYID=18050#...) have left me downhearted in the extreme. Perhaps he thought I was being flippant, no doubt I shall find out in due course.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 My companion and I went to recce our local bingo hall last night. It was a beautiful place full of light, sound and movement. Well not much movement beyond the regular pumping of pens on card. Although the two rather individual men on the entrance assured us that it was a quiet night, serried rows of women moved to the numbers called by a bored male voice. Not brave enough for immediate initiation we left clutching forms to be filled in later. Outside, in a cage we saw a group of smoking women stamping their cards as a disembodied voice called out: "pink forty two, blue twenty....". Upon returning to my lodgings we decided to watch the next Vampire film in my collection, a beautifully dark concoction called 'Drink the Blood of Dracula' It started oddly with Roy Kinear witnessing Dracula's death in a previous outing went on to be quite racey and ended strangely as Christopher Lee succumbed to a surfeit of religious imagery. Tomorrow I travel to Cardiff, I am hoping things will progress in a similar manner... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 My companion has become obsessed with blood sucking creatures, sending me many interesting and disturbing emails. Here is the first. "Most common is the European flea (Pulex irritans), which prefers a human host. Dr. Hubbard recommends lumber camps, flophouses and seashore resorts as the best bets for collectors. He notes that Pulex irritans prefers young, tender-skinned blondes or red-heads—as well as hogs. From Time magazine"    ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I am returned from Cardiff. My head hurts and further events at work, which I shall not relate here, have confused me. People are shouting outside my window and the Seagulls woke me at dawn. I present here the fragments of my memory.   I got to the station an hour early and passed the time by watching the café workers attempting to hang bunting evenly. As time passed the bunting was cut to progressively shorter lengths until, in the end, only three small pieces were left stretched awkwardly across the smallest of the three windows.   Seated in the silent carriage a phone repeatedly rings, suspicious eyes pop up above the seats and fall on me as I look up vampire moths on google.   Ruth and Meriele said they would be on my train, but there is no sign. I don't know what they look like and try staring encouragingly at pairs of young women.   Join 'LinkedIn' I'm not sure why. Passengers eye me suspiciously as the same phone starts to ring again.   Start to think about bingo   Standing in Cardiff station waiting I send a picture of myself to Ruth   G39 is tall, as is Chris Brown, and the show looks great. My film has a room to itself and is beautifully displayed. Up in the office drinking tea I look out of the window to see the prow of the John Lewis building bearing down on me like a huge black ship and start to worry in earnest about the evening ahead.   Ruth and Meriele jolly me along and take me to my lodgings which is decorated much like the homes in "Drink the Blood of Dracula" - a stag's head hangs in the breakfast room.   John Plowman talks to me about the power of small men, he is smaller than I imagined. He has a list of words.   Later after frantic eating and chair arranging, we talk of many things, I burble and start sentences which I have no way of ending, John is more relaxed and considered. Luckily one section of the audience take pity on me and decide to take over the conversation, I remember thinking it is a great pity they will not be paid for there efforts.   Drinking Guinness. Richard Higglett produces some Cheshire cheese. I meet Mike Cousins at last but he has become the Ambassador for Welsh Art. At four o'clock in the morning I find myself lying across my bed listening to the seagulls.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 My Beloved has continued to send me information about blood suckers, here is  part of the latest "Mosquitoes are also attracted to contrasts, a fact that lies behind one theory that they are attracted more to platinum blondes and redheads who are, it's proposed, more likely to stand out in a crowd. A variety of other research has suggested that ovulating women, people with smelly feet and those who have garlic on their breath are also preferred targets" On the 24th we shall be heading to London for the opening of "Trying to Cope with Things that Aren't Human" at Cell Project Space. I am completely failing to make any work and am in constant dread that someone will ask me that standard private view question: "What are you working on at the moment" I have recently promised to make some drawings for more than one person but so far all I have managed is to collect a lovely gold pen and propelling pencil from my father and place them within a glorious red pencil case (a present) They remind me of Dracula's ring, blood and cape from "Drink the Blood of Dracula".... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I am looking forward to the opening of "Trying to Cope with Things that aren't Human" at Cell Project Space on Friday. Not least because it is one of those galleries that I have tried to visit of many occasions but, largely due to my own failings, have only managed to get into once. That was a marvellous show by David Blandy, absolutely crammed with stuff. I may be arriving at the private view at a run as a last minute change has meant that, as I write, I am burning a new dvd for the show. This and some over vigorous socialising has meant that I have not as yet managed to go to bingo but I feel it will not be long now. I have ordered yet another vampire film "The Brides of Dracula". Apparently it heralds the return of Peter Cushing the progenitor of my recent obsessions. It should arrive with the early post tomorrow.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 A shrewish cold galls my throat. Feeling dizzy I was forced to leave my office partway through downloading images from Michael Cousin's show at g39. I am now writing letters and emails from my bed. So far I have produced: an invoice for Café Artistique; emails to Dan and Owen in Bath (from whom I have not heard much in a while) and a couple of panicky messages to Milika at Cell project space. Despite my worries all seems to have gone to plan and I am looking forward to travelling down to London tomorrow to see the final opening for "Trying to Cope with Things that aren't Human". I am even more excited because I have just remembered there is a Vampire story in the publication. Last night my beloved and I watched Peter Cushing in "The Brides of Dracula". Yet again the heroine survived and the vampire was easily despatched, this time by the shadow of a burning windmill. Mr Cushing was immaculately dressed throughout and inhabited the film with such gentleness and flair that all around him seemed crude caricatures. There was even one moment where he found himself an avuncular sidekick. He was a rotund bumbling doctor, but his name wasn't Watson. Afterwards discussion turned to a relative who had had to have his boot exorcised after his church was used for a black mass. He was a church warden and it was his car rather than his foot that was in danger. Thinking of Whitstable again I have made a film of a tree growing from the top of a building opposite my lodgings. Unfortunately I had to remove the sound as loud groans and giggling were issuing from my neighbours' flat.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 It has been a week since my last post. Tonight I head for London again to witness a screening of films in the car park of Cell Project Space. The opening last week was an interesting event with quite a healthy turnout. I met Milika who recalled seeing (and liking) a dvd of my work a couple of years ago. She commented that it was one of those things that ends up at the bottom of a pile. I thought at the time that although most of the information I send to galleries must end up as foundation material for more important paperwork that it must, in some small way, impinge on the consciousness of the gallerist. Perhaps I should correspond more often. I have received many other communications of late. Emails have been arriving from Basel, Bath and Bedford and I have been spending much time answering and sending packages by return post. Apart from such business work I have had time for little else though I have started plans for a new Space film using several litres of cooking oil and a few charity shop purchases. Last week the highlight of the private view occurred when my companion was invited to 'swing' with one of the visitors. She declined to travel down with me today.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 My companion is becoming increasingly obsessed with vampires and other blood sucking creatures. She finds it increasingly difficult to sleep as various new ideas come to her. It is as if they are being transmitted from an alien source. She now spends most of the day sleeping in order to recover from the night's febrile activity. Today I recieved a spell for trapping vampires it seems a bit confused and suggests that the bloodsucker will somehow be contained within a bottle, surely that is for genies?... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434   I have been slowly building up to making a new film. It is a continuation of my, so far, reasonably secret space films which, although he doesn't know it yet, are intended for Michael Cousin's online project Outcasting. They use various pieces of electronic paraphernalia to create satellites space ships and debris flying through vasty nothingness. A friend, whose husband died recently leaving her with a garage full of oddments donated these objects to me and along with many other things they take up a large part of one wall of my studio. To make this particular film I filled a large glass cylinder with four litres of cooking oil and dropped a satellite made from a small bulb and a resistor into it. I had hoped that the satellite would drift gracefully away from the camera into the gloom. Unfortunately it plummeted gracelessly to the bottom of the tube where it bounced once. A repeat of the experiment with engine oil may be more efficacious. However the grounded space debris engulfed in tiny golden bubbles looks pleasing so I have decided to call it "Phantom". My main worry now is how to deal with the oil, which sits in my tiny kitchen looking like an enormous urine sample.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 No stranger to discomfort I have agreed to another appearance talking in front of an audience. Again it will be in Cardiff and I am beginning to think the city may harbour some sort of deep seated grudge against me. This time I will be speaking about blogging and social networking at "May you Live in Interesting Times". In addition to this the Spectre of my 'in conversation' in Bath looms. On the 4th of November I am to present myself to a surly audience of academics (I imagine) my only hope is that JJ Charlesworth will protect me. I imagine him as man who knows what he is talking about better than any one else; a philosopher and a metaphysician, and one of the most advanced theorists of his day. He has, I hope, an absolutely open mind. This, with his iron nerve, temper of the ice-brook, and indomitable resolution and self-command should make the evening bearable.  I think the show itself is ready although things keep coming to mind and slipping away before I can grasp them. Most importantly I promised to attempt a large tracing on one of the walls, I must make at least one practice session before November.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 My companion has taken to sleep walking, this morning her feet were covered in a fine grey dust.   Emails received  06/10/09   Hi Alex did we decide on arrangements for when you will be here during installation and will you need accommodation on campus then or on the night of the preview? Normally for the in-discussion the artist and other person tend to meet up around lunchtime in order to look at the work and have a chat.   Hi Dan No you are right, we didn't decide on dates. I've left from 25th-31st October completely free, are any of those days ok? I would be happy to stay over also to get it done. For the opening and discussion, I would like to travel up early on the day and stay overnight. I am right that it is Wednesday 4th November?  My girlfriend has expressed a mild interest in joining me would there be room on campus for us both? I have another telescope now, hooray for eBay. All the best Alex   Hi Alex Why don't you stay over for two nights (28th and 29th October)? Is there anything we can do ahead of time? What screen ratio for the films 16:9 or 4:3? Charles the technician will be there for you. He could also finish bits off on the following Monday and Tuesday. The talk is indeed on Wednesday 4th November. I'll try to get a double room arranged for you and your girlfriend. It would be good if you and JJ could meet up around lunchtime to spend the afternoon looking at your work. I'll ask him what time he's thinking of arriving. Best wishes Dan   Hi Dan and CharlesThat's great I'll stay those two nights. The films are 4:3 except Cyclorama on the bigger tv which will be 16:9 but with a black border. I'll need a projector to use for the tracing. I think apart from that we should be ok. Oh and stepladders for the high pieces. I can get a train that gets in for just after midday so there should be time for JJ and me to get together.See you soon ishAlex   My correspondence needs to be wittier... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Someone in San Antonio googled 'ghosts, feeling touching chest in bed' and arrived at this blog. I am concerned that they may need help and will not find it here. For me, yet another conversation looms this time at BCA, Bedford. I am to talk to Chris Dobrowolski. Last year when I was not in Antarctica he was and we are to compare our experiences. I am assuming he was generally colder than me although I spent several dangerous hours at a bus stop in early March. http://ajpjournals.blogspot.com/2008/02/incident-in-birmingham.html... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434   Jordi Lafon's performance and a nice little networking dinner beckoned as my companion and I set off for Bedford on Saturday. I was looking forward to catching up with old friends and meeting Dawn as we have spoken a number of times on the telephone. My companion had poured two litres of oil into her car, something she assured me that she always did. I offered to drive and we set off in reasonable time despite an unfortunate toilet stop due to a little overindulgence and a curry the night before. As I pulled onto the A14 and accelerated, the little car laid down a smoke screen that James Bond's Aston Martin would have been proud of and a loud screaming noise that would have made Moneypenny blush. The screaming may have been mine as I pulled shakily into a lay-by much to the amusement of an RAC man who was already waiting. My companion is outstanding in a crisis and soon inveigled the hapless mechanic into an impromptu oil change. He was much grubbier and less jolly (though he did pocket a little gratuity) by the time we pulled away. Judging that we would now be very late and that my nerves were delicate enough already we headed back to Ipswich to find a not so free lunch. We parked and began to walk back into the centre of town taking a short cut through the old college buildings. I was nervous of attempting such a brash act as they are officially closed while undergoing building work. My companion however laughed at my cowardice and led us onwards. After a while it became clear that the obvious routes through this rather dubious short cut were blocked. The uncertainty of our position was making me feel increasingly apprehensive we eventually exited the building through a fire exit that (in retrospect) closed behind us with the finality of a cell door. We were now outside but surrounded by twelve foot security fencing that was quite impregnable, there was no way out! Nor could we retrace our steps and re-enter the building. We were trapped! After some time, and some frantic pacing, a woman walking a small dog passed on the other side of the fence. Hailing her we explained our predicament and suggested she might raise the alarm or at least pass a note to our loved ones but to my dismay she seemed unwilling and hurried on.  I have to admit by this time I was beginning to fear for my life. Despite the reassurances of my companion, I felt there was a dread of loneliness in the place which chilled my heart. We did another circuit of our cage looking for weaknesses or signs of life. I began to weigh up attempting the fence; it was topped with fearsome spikes and looked difficult to climb. read the full post at www.thepearlfisher.blogspot.com    ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434   I write as I am awaiting delivery of 25 "Black Flag Game", compendia intended for my show in Bath. The work is nearly complete and packed in my large traveling trunk. My only remaining issue is whether to rerecord the sound on one piece and how to chain two telescopes to the walls of the gallery. I have been warned repeatedly that the intelligentsia of Bath are not to be trusted and will carry off anything that is not nailed down. As I wait I am reviewing some of my correspondence particularly rejection letters.  Commissions East recently invited me to apply for a residency at the HMS Ganges museum in Shotley, I was informed that I was part of a selected long-list and so I replied forthwith with a small packet of goods including a DVD, C.V., etc. It was a bit of a rush as the deadline was tight but buoyed with hopeful confidence; I had gone some way towards spending the £17500 budget (in my head). Dear Alex Please find attached a letter regarding the shortlisting for the HMS Ganges Museum residency. Unfortunately on this occasion you were not selected by the panel. Any materials submitted will be returned to you shortly along with a hard copy of the letter for your files. I hope another opportunity will come up for us to work together in the future. With best wishes Siân I feel that telling me I have failed in an email, attaching a letter telling me I have failed and posting me another letter telling me I have failed is a little like being repeatedly pummelled by a wet pillow.   Nevertheless I am not downhearted though I was looking forward to recreating John Noakes' failed attempt to reach the 'button' on the top of HMS Ganges' infamous mast.  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434   Today, after many years away, I returned to the place where I first began my lecturing career. The High Street Art School has been unused by art students for twelve years but now, because of the failure of the air conditioning in our (windowless) new building, we have returned. The airiness of the grand octagonal cavaedium stood in stark contrast to our new rooms whose opposing airlessness has induced fainting fits and nausea in staff and students alike. This was to be the site of a day's drawing and although the morning chill caused us to shuffle our feet and clap our hands together we were grateful. Once the students had settled to their task of drawing dead insects and birds I proceeded to make a thorough examination of the stairs and passages leading off the atrium. My intentions were partly nostalgic but also that of the scavenger on the lookout for choice items.  One or two of the small rooms near the hall were open, but there was nothing to see in them except old furniture, stationary and electrical goods, dusty and discoloured with age. At last however I found an old door at the back of the building that, though it seemed locked, gave a little under pressure. With only gentle persuasion the door soon swung wide to reveal a leaky corridor from which three doors opened. I was now in an older wing of the college. Proceeding down the corridor, I noticed stacked against the left wall were four two metre square relief maps of the town revealing warehouses, domestic housing, a devilish one-way system and the gentle curve of the river. Moving on I entered each room in turn hoping to find equal delights and curiosities. The first had been put over to storage containing racks of boxes each holding paper records penned in a strange language. There was also an array of surveying equipment and rejected plans for the new building on the other side of town. To the right, piled haphazardly on the floor were a number of foot-long sharpened stakes. With increasing excitement I passed on to the second room however it contained little of interest being yet more storage for files. The third room however is much more interesting and here I am surrounded by furniture of all ages sitting at an old oak desk writing this journal. Next to me, propped carelessly against the fireplace, is a glass fronted key cabinet its double doors ajar, some of its contents spilled onto the floor. I shall compose a text to my companion she loves glass fronted cabinets...... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Listening to radio four slip in and out of focus on my elderly radio has reminded me of the sound effects on my copy of Murnau's Nosferatu. The Vampire is framed in the window of his dilapidated house using his powers to attract the attention of a young lady. While he waves at the window we hear the sound of radio waves go weeeoooooohweeee. In my youth I remember feeling that I completely believed that communicating with women would be equally unlikely. Many years wiser now I write exhausted following a gruelling visit to London. Truly I cannot conceive how anyone could actually live there! My companion and I spent the weekend in our Chelsea lodgings our intention to visit Zoo at our leisure. Unfortunately we made the mistake of first taking a tour of the new Saatchi Gallery. I have never felt quite so alienated in my life. The overwhelming brashness of the painting especially depressed me.  We found Zoo much more pleasing and my companion met an old friend Paul who was running the Workplace stand. There was, as usual, much to see glitter balls seemed to the leitmotif du jour. So much so that I felt vindicated in my use of one in one of my recent films. Our favourite display was that of a Swedish artist named Jensen. Displayed in a faux wattle and daub interior his little creatures had quaint names but appeared rough fellows who haven't perhaps lived as they should.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 A confused post I arrived early at BCA gallery. This was mainly because in order to save money I had had to catch a train, which would arrive in London Liverpool street no later than four twenty nine. Bedford was much as I had remembered it, little seemed to have changed. At the gallery however things were afoot. Both Laura Pottinger and Katie Walton were on maternity leave, Sarah was moving on to a new job and Dawn Giles was the new power in the office. The office itself had been rearranged seeming, as in fact it always did, in a state of flux. It wasn't long before I found myself helping Mira to fit spotlights and angle them in order to illuminate Dawn's desk. Then I was carrying a coffee machine down into the gallery slopping the contents of the overflow tray onto my trousers. Next I was arranging chairs and trying unsuccessfully to connect the laptop to a projector. I took on all these tasks willingly and largely unbidden. By seven the guests had arrived, taken their chairs and turned their faces expectantly towards the three speakers of which, unfortunately, I was one.   I had met Simon Munnery (our chair) before this 'in conversation' but I hadn't recognised who he was. He had seemed familiar and jocular but it was only as we seated ourselves to begin the 'in conversation' that realisation came upon me. I was on Simon's right hand and the extremely tall Chris Dobrowolski on his left. Both began by talking fluently, telling jokes, funny stories and looking extremely interested and interesting, while I, feeling my strength ebbing away, began to think about easing myself out of the audience's field of vision. I began to rehearse lines in my head while Chris embarked on a hilarious soliloquy about a very serious Russian researcher and a toy penguin. I noticed that Chris' work was very like mine, that we had similar experiences and responses to the Antarctic and that we both felt nervous, undermined even, about each others position. I was thinking that perhaps I should have travelled to those frozen wastes, he was thinking that maybe he shouldn't have. Then Mr Munnery swivelled his whole body around to face me, moved to speak and I remember no more.   The Antarctic is now a distant and rather romantic dream for me as is that evening's conversation.  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 It has been a month of sudden invitations and travelling. I have spoken in Bedford, Cardiff and Bath (facts altered for narrative convenience) I have been invited to show work in Basel, Kansas, Southend, the Hague and Valencia. I have also met some very interesting people (especially in Cardiff). But recently it was at the private view of another artist that I met the most interesting person of all. Mariele Neudecker has just completed a residency at the nearby Snape Maltings in Suffolk. Last Saturday her video installation 'Stay Forever and Never Come Back' was unveiled in a small building that, apparently, had been lowered by helicopter into the ruined shell of an old dovecote. While trying not to drink the private view wine my companion and I were engaged in a conversation by a retired scientist who had specialised in the workings of the brain. Apparently he was able to show that experience changed the efficiency of synapses to transmit information suggesting that this change was a possible explanation of how memory was stored. He also described very clearly, though I fear I have failed to grasp it fully, how synapses responding to electrical stimuli fire chemical packets to each other across tiny gaps.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I am all packed for my journey to Bath tomorrow. Well to be truthful I have packed and repacked the work for my show no less than 3 times. My own bag, which will contain my essentials for a two-day journey as yet, remains untroubled. I have also, and inevitably I feel been struck down by a foul infection of the respiratory passages. I am sneezing so violently that I am more than a little concerned that much of my show may be spattered with snot.  In an attempt to rid myself of this contagion I ventured out this morning to obtain orange juice and chicken soup. I am travelling everywhere on what my companion calls "The Phantom" a 'fixie' which, although common in the capital is a little anomalous in the provinces. Because the rear wheel is fixed it is necessary to keep pedalling at all costs otherwise the unfortunate rider can be flung out of the saddle by the still rotating pedals. This and the lack of brakes can make it a little like being aboard a runaway horse. I have found that riding it into a wall stops it. I have also been wrestling with another machine, an old cabinet gramophone and a rather eclectic selection of 78s. There is great pleasure to be found in the changing of needles and the winding of handles. One record has especially attracted my attention 'The Haunted Ballroom' seems ideal for some purpose or other. However, I have not quite settled on how to use it so I have made several recordings of it onto my iPhone.   My companion has gone to some sort of retreat in a farmhouse in Cambridgeshire. Last night I received a message from her complaining that it was haunted by the phantom of a butler. One of her greatest fears is ghosts but she cannot leave until Thursday as she is without transport.   That message arrived several hours ago I have heard nothing since   While waiting, I have been darning my threadbare pockets and writing invoices for my recent exploits though as yet I have been too shy to send them. I must get over my feelings of guilt in requesting money for my services.   It is three o'clock  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Hi SueHow's things? This month is very busy with shows and travelling. I am on the plague train to Bath at the moment to set up said show. The train is packed I'm praying no one will sit on my bag which contains the whole show. If they do all may be in pieces. Not looking forward to the underground. As I travel I am listening to Dracula, the ship has just crashed into the harbour at Whitby. I've been thinking about things for the biennale and I'd like to make some films in the bingo hall there, do you think that would be possible? (I should ring them). Anyway that's one of the ideas at the moment, the other is to do with shadows in the Whitstable streets and another to do with secret performances by a lovely assistant and another using magic tricks and others too numerous to mention. I will start tapering soon.Glad you are enjoying the blog, me tooAll the bestAlex... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Thursday, 29 October 2009 Hanging a show at ICIA University of Bath, Artspace 1 is an odd experience. Postgraduate students and lecturers are constantly passing through, avidly looking at half hung work and passing comment. One woman (jokingly?) accused me of cheating as I traced a large image of the Antarctic on one wall. I liked that. I also met another man who had not been to the South Pole. His department had done some work there looking for meteorites but like Moses (sort of) he had stayed home. The show is progressing satisfactorily mainly due to the inestimable qualities of my technician Charles.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Friday, 30 October 2009 Goodbye There is a new film in my show at ICIA. It is a cut out of an old sailing ship it barely moves and appears "as idle as a painted ship on a painted sea". This is Stoker's description of the blighted vessel that transported Dracula to Whitby. The show is up now and all I have to fear is a visit from the university rowing club (a rambunctious lot) and my impending meeting with Mr Charlesworth. I am now travelling towards London. I spoke to my beloved before I left. She was intending to rise from her bed but I have just heard she is feeling languid and tired and slept on after.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434   Excerpt from diary found a few days later   28th October 2009 This morning I set off from Ipswich my whole show packed into large case on wheels. I in turned crammed this (and myself) into a packed train to London. There was only one scary moment when a, I have to say heavyset, man decided to lean on my case. I imagined my work breaking and bending within but could do little about it. My journey to Bath went surprisingly well. I caught early connections and chose polite and helpful taxi drivers. Happily I arrived just as the ICIA Bath staff was about to go to lunch and was able to join them for a convivial orange juice (the "all day breakfast bap I had eaten on he train put paid to any thoughts of food). I sat back and relaxed as conversation flowed from relative office sizes to the narrative merits of Ben Elton's "We will rock you".   After a busy afternoon setting up my show in Space 1 I paid a visit to Space 2 to see Lucy Harrison's new show "Remains". This exhibition is a work in progress displaying documents from Harrison's previous visits to East London and East Berlin and some new work from her ongoing residency investigating the pending demolition of Bath University's Arts Barn. The former are introduced in highly personal ways as Harrison subtitles her photographs with memories of her childhood and mother's death. The work on the Arts Barn includes photographs scans of documents and a highly involving set of interviews with some of the staff that work there. By the time I had finished watching I was feeling a definite attachment for what seemed to be an unloved building. Soon it will be knocked down and replaced by a new Arts Centre, which will host another show bringing together more memories and documents from Harrison's investigations. I hope she will find people with more tender feelings towards the place.   I Finished the evening by watching Terence Davies' "Of Time and The City" which was gripping and monumental although I have to say he does things with voice over and popular music that would make me blush.  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Some sort of shadowy pall seems to hang over my happiness. Tomorrow I travel to Bath to converse with JJ Charlesworth. I sent him a grovelling email communicating fear and excitement, mainly fear. He in turn replied graciously telling me not to worry. So I am endeavouring to follow his advice and act, at least, with coolness. Another communication came from Bath expressing concern that no one seems willing to look through my carefully placed telescopes. I am now considering a form of words to encourage the viewers' curiosity. I am considering bastardising a rather poetic section from Coline Milliard's essay on the Bedford incarnation of the show: "In Roussel's proto-surrealist book, the narrator (allegedly) first encounters the African coast through his telescope. This circular viewpoint provides a leitmotiv for Pearl's 'Goodbye to most of the daydreams' series, encapsulating distance and otherness, what is both feared and craved for..." The above has all been via electronic communication. My relationship with real post has been a little more strained as my postman seems unwilling to knock on the door and merely pops his little pre-prepared red cards through the letter box. This invariably involves a rain soaked ride to the collecting office the next day to pick up my packet, letter etc. I have been playing with one such 'delivery' today a little circular brass mirror compact. I have been photographing my reflection to prove I am not a vampire.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 As a sort of performative work I have been trying to grow my sideburns similar to those sported by Peter Cushing in his roles as Van Helsing. They also hark back to my father's facial hairstyling in the seventies. Back then I wondered how they were produced and half believed that they would appear like the facial growths on a dominant male orangutan. My companion has become rather attached to them.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Joy, joy, joy but not all joy. It is all over. The show is hung, the conversation had, the drink drunk and the invoice almost ready to go. I say almost because I don't have a printer at the moment, an absence that causes me no end of slight logistical nonsense. The management at my place of work is currently striving towards a paperless office. An ideological standpoint that has only served to push my colleagues photocopying habit underground. Pale and shaking we huddle in corners printing and copying papers for our students. Some of us have taken to stockpiling handouts for future use. Now on top of this I find myself sneaking prints of personal documents snatching them away from sight as they appear.   Looking back, many things were discussed and said before during and after the opening at ICIA University of Bath. One thing I was asked (by Doctor Hinchcliffe) not to write about, so I won't. Another topic, this time during my conversation with Mr Charlesworth, is likely to be edited from the video recording. Later, in the student bar, drinking with my dear companion, JJ and the Crayola Girls a further conversation will remain unreported for other reasons.   I did tell JJ about my (so far secret) plans to apply for an Arts Council grant to cull a large number of Artists in the fashion of Ian Fleming's Goldfinger. I have always been taken by the efforts Auric went to gather the mob bosses to his home, explain his plans to them with elaborate model and audio visual presentation and then kill them whether they were in favour of his plan or not. Perhaps I should not have mentioned this.  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 My dear companion has begun talking in her sleep. I have decided to take notes. Last night she mumbled about our trip to Bath. I have paraphrased the gist of it below hopefully making sense of parts that were not immediately clear to me.   Bath   With the lovely Pearly at the train station. He's gone stiff and nervous.   Trying to distract the lovely Pearly with pictures of mummified animals in National Geographic.   Flicker of recognition from JJ at the turnstile.   Roll onto JJ going round a roundabout in the back of the taxi.   Ask JJ about his bloodstone ring.   Pearly is quiet I am noisy.   Concrete.   Berlin.   Wet everywhere. The sound of Pearly stepping into deep puddles.   I relentlessly question JJ.   Dr Dan seems nervous of JJ.   JJ holds forth on the sofas.   He laughs when I say my arse is large (watch it JJ)   Get bus.   Students cocky and annoying. One girl who looks like a shitsu is talking relentlessly about how much men want her. I wonder if this is how Alex feels when I go on and on.   Bath so beautiful and looks like its rendered in halva.   Back to campus.   Lost although a milimetre away from Alex's show.   Alex has shut down and is in nervous concentration mode.   Dr Dan and Charles seem very awkward in the bar and I worry that I am pissing them off-but wonder if Dr Dan is just worried about the night ahead.   Gin and tonics through the men/women's loos-like Mr Ben   I like the records and the high up eau de nil ship   'in conversation'   JJ is riffing on a few themes and wangles some of Alex's work into them.   JJ thinks Alex is more of a cynic than I think he is.   I pipe up relentlessly.   Unfortunately the obvious brilliance of my argument is fluffed by the gin and I realise I can't remember what my point was as soon as I start talking.   JJ declares me the new Martin Parr as he peaks on red wine.   I'm in bed   Dreaming -  I am holding a baby and I love it   Wake up Alex warm and soft in bed.   Alex tells me he loves me.   Put my ear plugs in and Alex says the prayer-I know he does because I feel his lips   Awake and have a bath with Alex   Take photos of JJ's room.   Egg and bacon bap with Alex.   Quest for the Bath bun.   The Circus was cold.   The Royal Crescent was colder.   Fell asleep on Alex on the train home-dreamt he was a giant furry squirrel.   Curve of the weir and the water-sad the rubber ducks weren't there.   The spa.   Seeing the town and rooftops while being in a giant communal bath.   Different steam rooms: Vicks, Chanel number 5 and lavender.   New friends James and Daniel at the baths find it hilarious I am in underwear.  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 10 November 2009 Arrived in Amsterdam last night. The crossing was calm and largely uneventful except for one point when one of our party slipped on deck. He contrived to land full on his face fetching himself such a knock that he split his eyebrow completely open. This morning he looks like a losing prize fighter, but was otherwise unaffected. Three hours into our voyage we sighted a grey band stretching across the horizon. Some swore it was land as it thickened and darkened. It soon became clear however, that it was heavy weather. We felt captain Holmes altering course and began to fear the worse until we realised he was steering towards a rainbow in the distance. I must admit it was a magical and disappointing moment when the bow entered the rainbow's end and it faded from sight. -- posted abroad... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Thursday, 12 November 2009 Chrysalis My dear companion has developed a fascination for carnivorous plants. While walking through the Bloemgarten she told me a Venus flytrap was on her Christmas list for five years but it never arrived. I had one of course and probably killed it with frequent ambitious feeding. The conversation reminded me also of the seventies dramatisation of 'The Day of the Triffids' with it's young flared John Duttine and face slapping plants. Later we visited the Butterfly house. I tried to show my bravery as the huge nectar sucking insects alighted on my scarf. My companion didn't notice though, she was too busy watching the giant chrysalides twitch. -- posted abroad... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Coincidences I have recently been struck by the power of coincidence. Last night my companion and I watched "Dracula AD 1972" with Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing rerere-reprising their roles with flared accomplices. Dracula's hip apprentice was cunningly named Jimmy Alucard an anagram that took Van Helsing several minutes with a pen and paper to figure out. This ne'er do well's dastardly plan was to raise his master in order to re-wreak revenge on the Helsing house. Their first target was Jessica, van Helsing's granddaughter played appallingly badly by Stephanie Beacham (although my companion pointed out her bosoms certainly earned their equity cards). She was so annoying that quite frankly I wanted to bite her by the end. Cushing did close the film by stating, quite pointedly I thought, that the whole thing was FINALLY over. This aside, the coincidence we noticed was that Alucard's lair was located in the very same street in Chelsea in which my companion and I lodged a few weeks ago. We recognised both the view from the front door and the layout of the interior. While ln Amsterdam my companion (who, among other things, is fascinated by houses and their inhabitants) was browsing through a book on famous addresses in London. Initially she was looking for that very same sister's house in Chelsea but, failing to find it, she decided to look in the index for 'Dracula'. There she found Bram Stoker's house in St Leonard's Terrace. Laurence Olivier lived a few doors down. I decided to hunt out connections between the two actors and soon discovered on IMDb that Cushing played Osric to Olivier's Hamlet in 1948. A few weeks ago I was invited to put one of my films on the same site. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1537248/Anagrams of Peter Cunshing and Laurence Olivier's names are respectively:Spectre hug-inAndLance our evil ire... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434   A number of photographs have come into my possession recently. They seem pertinent to the unfolding of this narrative so I have published them here with brief explanatory texts.  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Another studio visit looms. Monika Bobinska and her intern Adam are planning to come to Suffolk to see my work. Apparently I am to be in a show called 'Cosmic Mysteries' in Valencia and at the London Art Fair. This all seems to be happening rather soon. I was about to move studios because since my relocation in Ipswich I was finding the travelling too irksome. Because of this I have hardly set foot in mine for the last month except to pack a case or throw some rubbish or other onto the ever growing pile at its centre. So, when I arrived this morning to sort the place out and prepare it for visitors I was met with what felt like an insurmountable task. Luckily there was a skip parked outside, which I planned to take advantage of. It was one of those looming container types which either requires one to open its massive doors or to scale a ladder welded onto its side. Too afraid to do the former, lest the contents avalanche onto my frail body, I spent four hours to-ing and fro-ing with boxes of old art, potential art and hopeless mistakes until I had made a clearing large enough for one gallery owner, her assistant and one nervous artist. Next I surveyed some of the work I was hoping to show them. Finding some of it ruined by damp I decided to get some lunch at the local cafe. I have a busy week ahead.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I am having a little trouble with my sideburns. The left one has quite a different character to the right. It seems softer and less wiry the right is more aggressive lupine even. I am also concerned with the amount of grey hair that has appeared and am seriously considering applying gravy browning. I confess that I have little experience in the tending of facial hair. I am constantly engaged in trying to even them up but I swear they are as unruly as a pair of kittens! I am also unsure as to whether I should prune them back like rose bushes. Would this encourage healthier more luxuriant growth? The reader will, I hope, excuse my mixed metaphors they are merely a product of my confusion.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I have received a very helpful letter from Hayley LockMay I suggest that you make a cardboard template with the desired 'perfect sideburn' shape cut out of the centre. This could then be taped to the side of your face measuring exactly the distance from say the top and side of the ear to top and side of sideburn on both the left and side of your face to achieve 'absolut'. If I have the time I will send a pic and perhaps a diagram. Maybe a hat with the two cardboard cutouts sewn in would work (given that the two sides of your head will be wonky anyway). Failing that I suggest you get them tattooed in as a permanent feature (maybe in little twinkling star form). Hx    ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Monika Bobinska came to my sham of a studio yesterday. I had spent the previous hour unpacking the items I had previously packed and making a few stunt works in progress. I had made sure I had a packet of Leibnitz biscuits and some coffee and felt as ready as I could be. She turned the former down because she was on a “detox” (an alien concept to me) but did have a coffee. As usual both she and her intern Adam were fascinated by my studio’s history. It is sited on a US airbase in the military police headquarters. We have an interrogation chamber with two-way mirror, and my room is a cell with reinforced doors. After initial pleasantries we got down to business. She seemed to want to see lots of things and I tried to keep pulling new surprises from drawers and cardboard boxes. I showed her films of stars and spaceships, photographs, drawings and alien abductions. Cosmic mysteries all. By the time we had finished two hours had passed and I had agreed to show three films, to make a new series of sculptures, have some lightboxes made and to redraw a number of spaceships a little more carefully. And all this to be finished by the beginning of January, what a fool I am! How quickly have I been ensnared by the commercial gallery system! Now I am exhausted at the very thought of all this toil. So tonight I will rest and watch an episode of “Blake’s 7” Its plot, stolen from “Star Trek”, involves alien forces pitting our hero against his arch enemy for entertainment. It also contains vampires of a sort. In response to my worries about greying hair my companion found this quote by the Humanist writer Marsilio Ficino: “To Stay Young: Suck the blood of a youth… an ounce or two from a scarcely open vein on the left arm… when the moon is waxing”   Three Books on Life, 1489... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 After much consideration and more than a little prevarication I have pruned back my sideburns using an electric hair trimmer. They appear much more controlled now and not at all what I want but time will help. I have prepared four boards with blackboard paint for Monika's spaceship drawings. After the first coat they were almost perfect. When I came to do the second the paint had congealed to a slimey paste which I stubbornly tried to trowel over the surface of the boards. This morning I have spent a good deal of time sanding (and swearing). Soon I shall venture out to Wilkinson for more paint as I am stubbornly convinced that this is the only way forward. I still have not phoned the Oxford Bingo Hall in Whitstable a failing that has caused my companion to make repeated offers of help. Telephonics escape me. I have managed to make a couple of tiny sculptures in my Alien Abduction series.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Boards I continue to struggle to paint four boards with black paint. The perfect surface still eludes me however. As of yesterday I had applied and sanded four layers of blackboard paint but still there remained imperfections on each board. Today, I employed a new softer, wider, wetter brush and stroked each surface repeatedly until it resembled a limpid pool (except black), Imagine my horror when on closer inspection that the ‘new’ brush had in fact been filthy with all manner of dust, particulates and hair and that the pools appeared infested with water boatmen, midges, caddis fly larvae and even frog spawn. Tomorrow I sand.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The Devil's Coat Tails Regarding the painting of my boards I have had many suggestions from so many interested parties, including the use of arcane brushes, mixing fairy liquid with gouache, spraying, rollering and scraping. Some have found fault with my preparation, which I cannot deny was a little slipshod and have suggested primers and base coats. My favourite suggestion from my dear friend Paul Becker is transcribed below:"If you melted down your your Pilgrim hat and the single rogue sideburn, surely that would be a primer as smooth and black as the devil's own coat tails?"px I still haven't telephoned the Bingo hall... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The Blender Finally! I have a surface to draw on. All thanks to a fan shaped brush. Yesterday I took the phantom for a guided tour of the art suppliers of Ipswich in search of the mysterious blending brush a fabled sable item of rare power. It was raining the sort of fine mist that penetrates all clothing without seeming to make an effort. By the time I finally tracked the Grail down to it's hiding place in an emporium called "the Range" a persistent and constantly renewing drop of water had settled in on the tip of my nose. To make myself feel better I purchased two brushes, a cutting mat, scalpel and blades and DVD labels all for under thirteen pounds. As I write I have completed my first redrawn spaceship SID. Below is an image of it standing proudly in front of my season one "Blake's 7" VHS collection.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I find myself in Colchester where my companion has a meeting with Laura Early about some work. Imagine how delighted I was to find my old friends Townley and Bradby hard at work in Firstsite's temporary artspace. They are making a series of hourly walks to the relentlessly uninspiring Colvert Square to make observations of the goings on. -- posted abroad... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Saturday, 5 December 2009 Lost Alas the rest of the day was filled with such ups and downs that I am quite discomforted. On the much delayed train home my companion and I found a rail card belonging to a Chelsea pensioner. Filled with such excitement at the idea that we could perform a good deed we rushed off the train at Ipswich to hand it in to the authorities. But disaster had struck as I realised ,too late, I had left my bag on the train. It contained my gold pens given to me by my father, my notebooks (by themselves a disastrous loss), a letter to my solicitor and a DVD of work for a talk on Monday. I must admit I have sulked ever since and have only faint hope that they will be found when the train reaches Norwich. I consolled myself by drinking a cup of Russian Caravan tea and making a small drawing of "Eagle 1". I still haven't phoned the Bingo hall. -- posted abroad... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 8 December 2009 Examinations I am, as usual, distracted. At work, the inspectors are about. It is easy to spot them as they float along the corridors in their anachronistic suits. However this conspicuousness does not make them any less terrifying. We are pale faced and tense shuffling our lesson plans and student profiles in the hope of achieving the perfect order. I am also guiltily preparing for an interview in Brighton. Actually preparing is a slight exageration, rather I am writing a list of things to say and making a slightly irreverent video explaining my vision for the future. My courage may fail and the video may remain unseen. Either way I plan to make it public here. Additionally I am of course continuing to make drawings of spaceships and ordering parts for sculpture. At the moment I am trying to find 20 circular polystyrene discs. They are proving elusive. Furthermore I have emailed the lost property office in Norwich but have had little satisfactory response. I missed my pens today and worried a little about the letter. My dear companion, a little despairingly I think, has made a number of attempts to telephone the Oxford Bingo club so far with little success.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 My Vision for the Future A phone call to my father has confirmed that Haigh, the acid bath murderer, and alleged vampire was indeed a notorious old boy of his school. He also recalled one of the boys swimming the channel some years later and an archbishop or two. My mother, overhearing the conversation, was keen to point out that Joan Plowright was an alumnus of her school. My companion informed me that she was the second wife of Laurence Olivier after his split with the rather frisky Vivian Leigh. I wonder if she lived down the road from Bram Stoker’s house. My companion has become something of a passepartout of late and is fast becoming an indispensable asset. Yesterday she managed to contact the lost property office at Norwich station and arranged to have my bag returned on the five o’clock train to Ipswich. Today she managed to charm her way through several echelons of Bingo management and has all but arranged for me to film at the bingo hall in Whitstable. Not only has she done this but she also managed to track down the mysterious and charismatic bingo caller we met on our first visit many months ago. She has learned on good authority that he is “a bit of a ladies man” which makes me hope more than ever that he will be willing to be filmed. I am overjoyed! The rest of my day was taken up with the painting of more boards and making of my interview video for Brighton. As I write my companion is watching the final edit, she is crying with laughter.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I see phantoms in the motes, everything I read seems pertinent to my current research. Recently, in fact while I was traveling back from Brighton, I was skimming through the pages of the latest 'Cabinet'. I was interested mainly in an article on the dust of the universe that is deposited daily in the Antarctic. My previous adventures have left with me a fascination for such subjects though they bare little relation to my life now. The magazine contained many other interesting snippets. There was a quote I liked by Bataille who writes about Dust in his Encyclopaedia Acephalica as follows:"...as if it were a matter of making ready attics and old rooms for the imminent occupation of obsessions, phantoms and spectres that the decayed odour of old dust nourishes and intoxicates."he also describes:"injurious phantoms that cleanliness and logic abhor"When Dracula is (temporarily) slain he is often rendered into dust. This dust (in subsequent films) is also often collected and revivified with blood. A bit like Angel Delight.  Dracula's castle is full of dust and piles of rotting, decayed, unregarded, unloved things. I am reminded that dust is mostly human skin. My companion's lodgings are also full of dust and many many objects piled across every surface. There is also an article on magic and dust which I don't remember well (and the magazine is lost to me now). I think of pixie dust, a sleeping spell and a Midsummer Night's Dream. My magical studies have not progressed one jot. I have a plan for the reproduction of the illusion of "Pepper's Ghost" but have got no further than repeatedly redrawing it in my sketchbook.In Brighton I saw a show of three films by Mark Lewis. I enjoyed the strange battle between the camera and its mundane subject matter of broken down landscapes and young love. In one piece an epic crane shot zoomed slowly in on a group of boys playing in a warehouse and rested finally on a spinning top set off by one of them. But the boy seemed too old, in fact more of a young man, an actor creating a moment of delicious disappointment. Another film showed a couple skating in the snow in front of a back projection perhaps of central park or some-such place. I have to admit I did not spot this until I read about it in the accompanying text. On a second viewing it reminded me of the end of "The Big Sleep", Bogart and Bacall driving - falling in love in an alien way, a mismatched cinema presentation of the immediate past playing out behind them.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 But now my thoughts fly to the future. My inestimable companion contacted the caller Jerry Bown today. When she first telephoned she was informed he was "calling out" and would not be free for another ten minutes. To my immense surprise she was not put off by this, a disappointment which would have set me back a week. But instead, she happily called back after the allotted time and proceeded to charm him into agreement. So now our plans are in motion. In January we shall return to Whitstable, to the Bingo hall, to film the charismatic man calling out again.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 For the last three days I have been wrestling with a dark force. Tears have been shed, desperate phone calls made, and bowels have loosened. But at last my travails are finally over, my tax return is filed. However victory has a bitter taste as I now have a galling bill to pay.Three days ago, to my palpable horror I opened the (dusty) ledger to discover no entries after February. This year I had vowed that my books would be up to date and calculations made well in advance of the January deadline and I really believed I had achieved this. Somehow I had deluded myself into believing that I had been a diligent citizen. How I had convinced myself I do not know but the fever has passed and I can look forward to better times.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The Rain BBC iplayer briefly streamed via 3G to my iPhone. This magical gateway only opened for a couple of hours this morning and I spent the time catching up with that Saatchi spectacular about six lost artists trying to survive at the whim of a mysterious outside force. I noted that it is always raining in Saatchiland and that the artists, though beautiful, have interesting character flaws. I was particularly involved by their visits to the stately home and the seaside as they bore considerable relation to my own adventures at The Foundling Museum and Whitstable. I felt their pain as they tried to shoehorn their work into the historic interior but was glad that the posh people were kept mostly at arms length. The seaside trip made me think of something I had put to the back of my mind. Where shall I show my film/films/objects/performances? (the last is very unlikely). The mysterious godhead wanted everything to be big, bold and accessible, Anthony Gormley was cited visually every ten minutes. Now my inclination is to become like the bat, hiding in the dark places, venturing out only in the dead of night. I didn't see who won the prestigious show in the Hermitage as the three golden gates closed before I could download the final episode. Perhaps it is better that way.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 On reflection I fear I have become a bit of a blagueur a notion that my increasingly bushy sideburns do nothing to dispel. The bulk of my time is currently taken up with drawing spaceships and making a haphazard edition of Alien Abductions for the London Art Fair. Actually the bulk of my time has been taken up trudging from one location to another, realising I have forgotten something and trudging back, only to realise that that thing was not to be found in that location but rather the former. This cycle of treading and re-treading has, due to the inclement weather lead (I imagine) to a worn track of my footprints zigzagging across Ipswich. While I trudge I am thinking more and more of Whitstable and my meeting with The Caller. He has not yet contacted my companion to confirm the dates of our visit nor, as far as I can tell, has he visited my website to check my credentials. Perhaps this is a good thing. I am also planning another performative work. A magic show to be carried out at a private location at an unspecified time. To avoid embarrassment it will probably also be performed without an audience.  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Last night my companion and I battled through slush and icy rain to a little gathering at Firstsite in Colchester. There were drinks and and nibbles. What neither of us realised and was that the drinks were a trick to engineer a round table feedback discussion about the Fifteen Artists Fifteen Days mini residencies. Luckily as I had not been involved I was allowed to sit on the sofa and watch as each artist was invited to introduce themselves and praise the format of the event. Comfortably excluded I was able to observe the phenomenon known as "creeping death". This title, previously unknown to me was explained eloquently afterwards by Lawrence Bradby. All started well with even a little enthusiasm and intelligent comment but at the baton was passed from speaker to speaker they seemed to lose heart, proceeded to repeat previous, safe, comments and rely on a sort of consensual blandness and jollity that can be seen in those suffering from drug induced stupor. I munched my mince pie and supped my wine sympathetically, very glad the I was not in the circle of creeping death.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 22 December 2009 The woman in the Attic A woman lodges in the attic rooms above me. I have never met her, only knowing her name from the post that accumulates in the entrance hall. I know her by sound too: her footsteps, a penchant for moving furniture in the early hours, a loud cackling laugh and slightly flat singing voice. Her recent pleasure in listening to 1990s power ballads has lead me to take long evening walks around the more affluent streets of Ipswich. Tonight my companion joined me and we came across a strange sight.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Wednesday, 23 December 2009 Sideburn Update Last night the lady in the attic had a visitor. There was a low rumble of conversation that lulled me to sleep. I did not hear the gentleman leave although as I heard no more this morning I assume he did so in the night. I am lying abed photographing my sideburns. It is not that I am an overly lazy man it is just that in my lodgings one is either in the kitchen, the bath or the bed. There being little room in between I conduct much of my business like an eighteenth century gentleman. Above me my neighbour is dragging something heavy along the floor. On examination of the photographs I note that one sideburn is still much bushier than the other.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Monday, 28 December 2009 After a delightful Christmas break during which time, I'm afraid, I ate and drank far more than was sensible, my companion emailed Mr Bown to confirm some dates for our visit. She recieved an informative and encouraging reply which I have partly quoted and partly paraphrased below. Firstly he was keen to correct a few assumptions I had made that he was "the caller" at the club. To be honest even from our brief meeting, my companion and I had felt he had a presence that suggested he was more than a mere employee at the Hall. On this subject His own words are more eloquent than mine, I hope he will not mind me quoting them below:"Dear Miss Dover... I feel I need to clarify some details about myself.I am not The Caller but do at times call bingo sessions and have a good relationship from the stage with the customers.I sold Whitstable Bingo Club to Stewart Neame some 4 years ago. I have been asked by him to come back to the clubon a consultancy basis to try to improve the business which I have been doing for the past 8 months."Quite correctly Mr Bown's main concern was that my cameras should not disturb the customers in any way. This has lead me to reassess my original idea of filming the call and response of the players. Now I am thinking of concentrating solely on the caller, and hope Mr Bown will be willing to fill this role (he intimated as much in his letter). Anyway, he has invited us to meet him to discuss the filming in the new year. I must make plans for the journey ahead.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Sunday, 3 January 2010 Lost in Space BT Openzone has let me down again. I have been without internet for five days. It is true I have other options. Unfortunately however, the local café that has stood in for my office of late has also been closed and although their WiFi is still working I do not feel comfortable leaning against a wall clutching my laptop in the rain. Burger King was beginning to beckon. The following post was written earlier in the week the cold has indeed materialised: Again I have returned safely from another journey. This time I was visiting my parents in the north. Both were struck with a fearful cold, which I am sure they passed on to me. The Christmas season has been good to me, not least because of the large number of no doubt useful books I received as presents. “The Peter Cushing Companion” has given me insight into his ever-changing facial hair, more of which later. Christoper Frayling’s “Dracula” will I’m sure prove vital in the months ahead as will the biography of Christopher Lee. I’m not so sure about the “Ladybird Book of Magic” but we shall see. As I may have mentioned before, my reading is usually split into three parts with a book separately in toilet, bathroom and bedroom. Each progresses slowly and often the plot of one gets confused with another. A biography of Laurel and Hardy (my current toilet book) has lead me to think about double acts in general and Cushing and Lee in particular. I see Cushing as the straight man with Lee looning around in the background biting people. I was also pleased to spot a photograph in my “Companion” of Cushing performing in a Laurel and Hardy film called “A Chump At Oxford”, 1939 but perhaps this is a coincidence too far. Over the Christmas break Dr Bradshaw sent a message, a quote from a dramatisation of Agatha Christie’s “Appointment with Death” “Nuns… vampires in drag who seek out misery and weakness and gorge on it” Should this all be adding up to something? I am increasingly unsure.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 5 January 2010 Listening to the countdown at the station made me feel uneasy about uncertainty. "we are sorry to announce the 1230 from Norwich is delayed by 15 minutes", "we are sorry to announce the 1230 from Norwich is delayed by 16 minutes", "we are sorry to announce the 1230 from Norwich is delayed by 17 minutes", "we are sorry to announce the 1230 from Norwich is delayed by 18 minutes", "we are sorry to announce the 1230 from Norwich is delayed by 19 minutes". On and on it went until I realised the collages voice had no idea how long the train was delayed, it was merely marking time.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Wednesday, 6 January 2010 My Companion Waiting for the snow I dipped into my Peter Cushing companion for the third time. Perversely I decided to read the foreword by Veronica Carlson, a fellow actor and friend. I have already expressed delight at the large number of photographs of Mr Cushing that are to be found in this volume, some of which are published below. However I was more than a little disappointed to note that the most impressive sideburns were reserved for his performances as Dr Frankenstein. Nevertheless it is a lovely present from my companion and Miss Carlson's foreword contains some very moving tales. (transcribed below)"The filming of one scene in particular is extremely difficult for me to recount. Daphne asks a question to which Doctor Lawrence replies 'my wife is dead...' The tone of utter finality in his voice was absolute. At this point Doctor Lawrence picked up a photograph of his late wife - in actual fact Peter had insisted on using a picture of Helen. This scene was shot about seven times, and each time Peter uttered that awful sentence he became more broken. Finally tears streaking down his face, he swiftly walked off the set. Freddie Francis simply turned and looked at the floor amid the horrible silence."... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 My companion has just sold several paintings to a werewolf called Russell Tovey.In fact I am beginning to think I am surrounded by supernatural beings. Not least of these is my upstairs neighbour whose nocturnal habits of singing along to unending powerballads late into the night are getting beyond a joke. Her midnight movements are always concluded early the next morning by some sort of ritual which involves dragging a heavy weight across the floor above my head. Tonight, while I listen to a chanteuse who I am reliably informed is called Mariah Carey I am reading segments from Professor Sir Christopher Frayling's "Vampyres". He begins by describing to role of indigestion in the creation of fantastical literature. This is something I have an affinity with as my stomach is habitually somewhat dyspeptic. My own affliction is, however, not caused by eating raw meat but more usually by: travel, irregular dining or Dutch lager. Having avoided all three tonight I am enjoying a bed time snack of peanut butter. My Companion and I have just returned from viewing yet another vampire film at the local picture house. The film did nothing to dispel my idea that vampires are essentially quite boring creatures. Perhaps werewolves are more interesting... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Kill them All! Last night my companion and I watched a film of Zizek doing an election speech for the Liberal Democratic Party in Slovenia. He said he wanted to get crosses and garlic and stakes and kill all the vampires. Later in the same film he lay in bed, the covers up to his chest, talking about Lacan. He looked a bit like an excitable, hirsute version of the innocent bed ridden victim from any number of vampire films. My companion tried to explain the battles between the Lacanians and Derridians over the word "truth" but I could only think that the Derridians must be blue all over with antennae sprouting from their heads and the Lacanians completely furry and constantly frothing at the mouth.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Cosmic Mysteries My companion and I arrived at the London Art Fair after a brisk walk across London. The Tube at Monument had been at a standstill due to overcrowding on the platform. My companion's delicate sensibilities precluded crushing ourselves into the maul of disgruntled Londoners so a thirty minute walk seemed by far the best solution. Waving our complimentary tickets we were ushered through the crowds at the entrance and onto an escalator which took us almost directly to the projects area. "Cosmic Mysteries" was the first stand and upon our approach I must admit more than a little pride at seeing my name in Lettraset. The sympathetic hang of my work, and the rest of the projects area, contrasted with the village fair approach of the rest of the hall. We had two tasks to complete. To thank Monika and to photagraph the stand of a gallery "B" which represents a dear friend of mine, a painter of some repute. B's stand was to be found below in the more commercial part of the fair. We braced ourselves for a trial. Cosmic Mysteries II - descent into hell The lower levels of the London Art Fair were a bear pit of writhing bodies in bespoke suits. Tall and tanned, their faces stretched into grimaces of contentment it's denizens stalked each other calling out with braying voices. My companion and I, small and scruffy, felt a bit like early mammals scurrying around the feet of the great dinosaurs. In the hothouse atmosphere we scuttled from stall to stall looking for "B" the gallery of our dear friend. Eventually after asking for directions we found it but were horrified to discover they had not one drawing, painting or print of his on their wall! A tall man, tanned and aloof, assured my companion in honeyed tones that not two feet away were stored prints and drawings by my dear friend. He seemed bemused at our sudden lack of interest. Unimpressed and overheated we moved quickly upstairs in search of cooler climes and much needed refreshment. It was there at the event's one and only watering hole that we spotted our first, and last, celebrity. We both recognised a woman standing at the bar talking animatedly to an older man. I recalled she was an actress from Holby City, my companion, more usefully, recalled her role as a vampire whore in the film adaptation of Anna Rice's "An Interview with a Vampire". This was an exciting discovery and while I hid behind a pot plant my companion went over to get her autograph. What happened next though was even more exciting.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Sideburn Update I am finding that women are increasingly interested in my sideburns. As I have previously passed through life largely unremarked by the fairer sex I am unused to this new somewhat specific attention.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Cosmic Mysteries III Upon our return, sweating and shaking we discovered Monika in an excited state. She had sold one of my drawings and another customer seemed very interested. I was pushed into her path by my enthusiastic companion (who was soon to be offered a job touting for the show). Thirty minutes later after I applied my not inconsiderable charm, two further works were sold. Unfortunately, before any more colletcors could pounce, a disembodied voice announced the fair was closing. My companion and I said our goodbyes and wandered arm in arm into the evening sleet.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I feel I should explain the confused nature of my posts of late. Due to an ongoing battle with BT (mostly going on in my head) I yet again have limited access to the internet. To counter this I am posting regularly to my other blog http;//thepearlfisher.blogspot.com and pasting a weekly digest (indegestif) to this blog in a clandestine manner while at work. Alex Pearl 25th January 2010 Sunday, 24 January 2010Stephanie Beacham Frustration and more frustration. The tape of the diminishing space man was blank. No amount of rewinding and fast forwarding could make the lost footage reappear. My dear companion put on a very brave face when I told her we would have to watch that particular episode of UFO ahead although she did profess an interest in seeing Stephanie Beacham again. Despite this, she spent the repeat screening on her phone emailing Mr Bown to get confirmation for dates for filming. I have been getting twitchy about getting the work done and juggling the time with another commitment in the north of which I shall write more later. While I was filming, more strange noises emanated from the rooms above including the sound of further heavy objects being dragged across the floor and a persistent hammering. These and other more obscure sounds are now recorded on my video tape. I may use them in the final film.Posted by Alex at 21:28 0 comments   Saturday, 23 January 2010Controlled by Radio Waves I have just completed a protracted move into a new studio. The upheaval has meant that I have produced little actual work in the preceding ten or so weeks (bar that which I could complete in my cramped lodgings). I celebrated by making some small collages of crashing aeroplanes which I photographed the wrong way round. Because of these upheavals, many of my evenings are also currently taken up with work. I have been trawling through episodes of UFO a tv show from the early seventies. I must have watched reruns of it in my childhood and remember not fully understanding the plot. However I did remember the silver costumes, purple hair and fancy vehicles. Today I am impressed chiefly by the sideburns and the Aliens' Dracula-like use of radio waves to control their, mostly female, victims. I have been looking for a specific scene of a dead man floating into space intending to remake it as an animation. I found it tonight.Posted by Alex at 21:25 0 comments   Friday, 22 January 2010The Meaner Things I am spending a little time in the museum drawing the meaner things: the rat, the bat, the wolf. Also the giraffe but I fear this is a distraction. Tonight I must write some invoices for the work sold at the London Art Fair. -- posted abroad... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Thursday, 28 January 2010 Vampyres I am reading Christopher Frayling's "Vampyres" it has temporarily replaced the biography of Laurel and Hardy as I felt I was becoming sidetracked. Frayling's book, though far more erudite and reasoned, follows remarkably closely the work of Basil Copper, whose book now resides in a dark corner of my lavatory. I am particularly taken with the idea of the vampire as 'other' and the use of it's relationship with humanity as a political metaphor by Rousseau and Marx. I must admit to feeling a little foolish at not realising that Zizek's reference to vampires (in a post entitled "Kill Them All") was probably meant to recall this. It has made me even more excited about filming Mr Bown "calling" but also more worried about how I might shoot the film. Time marches forward and I must decide soon. We (my companion that is) have firmed up a date with Mr Bown and I have booked rooms for us at the Continental Hotel. We are to film on a quiet afternoon session in March.  Snot and Sideburns It is the third day of my illness. Yesterday my companion also succumbed leaving us to spend the day abed watching DVDs and shuffling to the kitchen for healing poultices. Outside, life continued as normal in St Georges street. Women screamed and swore, men swore and shouted. My immediate neighbour, a young man fresh from a stay at Her Majesty's pleasure, keeps threatening to have people kidnapped. No doubt his lack of discretion is at least partly responsible for his recent incarceration. While listening to this base opera I have been trying to write a proposal for my forthcoming residency at Islington Mill. Messrs Bracey & Griffiths are writing an application for monies from the Henry Moore Foundation. The deadline approaches I must make haste. The following photographs also taken in my sickbed reveal another problem. My sideburns are completely different shapes. I believe they hark from different eras the 1970s and the 1870s. Tuesday, 26 January 2010 Last night was not a good one. I felt as if a crushing weight was hovering just above me. My breathing was short and sterterous, many times I had to resort to opening my mouth until it grew so dry I had to close it again. Now after counting down the early hours of the day I find myself lying weak limbed in bed. I have done very little constructive and must book my tickets to travel north to Manchester soon. There I am to meet up with messrs Griffiths and Bracey regarding a residency later in the year. In addition to this I have recieved a lovely letter from Anneka French inviting me to be in an exhibition called "Meleager's Garland" at Sir Joseph Banks Conservatory, Lincoln. The work she wants (a small collage) is either in amongst the packaging for my show in Bath (which is still in Bath) or at the bottom of any one of the piles of boxes that now constitutes my new studio.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Sunday, 31 January 2010 Transformation My companion lies listless amongst her books. One of them, Sontag's "Illness as a Metaphor" reads: 'TB is disintegration, febrilization, dematerialization; it is a disease of liquids - the body turning to phlegm and mucus and sputum and, finally, blood....'At a local hostelry I had a photograph taken of my sideburns. Sunday, 31 January 2010 8am It is day six. My companion, who seemed to have made a good recovery is today quite drained. Her symptoms include a languid weakness and constantly running nose. I myself am no better and find the only activity I can find the strength for is writing this journal. The only part of me that has vigour is my left sideburn which grows in inversely proportionate vigour to my torpor. It has now reached out beyond my ears. I am not sure whether to let it go on, or like a treasured rose bush prune it hard to encourage vigour. Thankfully my reveries have just been interrupted by a cacophonous banging in the street, it sounds like my peccant neighbour has returned!   Saturday, 30 January 2010 Northern Landscape The fifth day of my illness has been characterised by a feeling of agoraphobia. I sit alone in my flat eyes shifting nervously as I listen to the mumblings of my neighbours and cars passing outside. Earlier I attempted a visit to my studio but found the walk across town intolerable and exhausting. Symptoms included a shaking in my legs a bubbling feeling in my chest and sudden urge to cry. I could go no further. My companion was most concerned but I urged her to carry on as she had errands to perform. Now in closing silence I await her return.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 It has been a long battle but now, thankfully, both my companion and myself seem to be out of danger. Barring another dreadful relapse we should soon be ready to resume our adventures. While bedridden I have been taking stock of my unfulfilled ideas and have resolved to spend some time at my new studio finally making some work. I am aware that my plans may come to nothing and many of the ideas feel to me weak and abortive but if allow my inertia to go on much longer there will be no films for Whitstable at all.   The animation of the dead spaceman is going very slowly, I find myself daunted by the mountain of drawing needed for an animation that may not satisfy. The original footage which I filmed from a projection on my bedroom wall is so beautiful I am finding it hard to believe that animating it has any value. I have never previously presented ‘found’ footage as my own and as I have in the past had great trouble with music copyright I am concerned about the legalities of doing so. I have resolved to make a small test animation of a few repeating frames which should at least nip my worries in the bud.   But this piece is not for Whitstable. The Vampire film I have been making in my lodgings seems lifeless and beyond hope; I do not have the energy to go on with it at present. Instead I have instructed my companion to attempt some magic tricks which will be performed at secret locations in Whitstable upon our visit in March. In my studio I also intend to make a number of short films of objects using the “Pepper’s Ghost” illusion. So far I have chosen, water pouring into a glass, a glitter ball (such a common object in contemporary art) and a religious icon. Hopefully these and my putative film of the enigmatic Mr Bown will produce at least one worthwhile piece.   Then there is this blog. I have in the past turned these writings into books, cheaply produced populist fictions with shiny covers. My companion recently told me of a book bound in a murder’s skin; his ear protruding from its front cover, this idea excites me. However, I am uncertain as to how I might locate a bookbinder who works with such materials. Craftsmen are so hard to find these days. This also brings up the vexing problem of cost, how much would a run of a hundred say skin bound books be?... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Thursday, 4 February 2010After many a hiatus I made it to my studio today for a serious day's work. I made a tiny lit sculpture of a scooter stuck on some flowing stuff and another of a young woman sinking into glowing stuff. The Pepper's Ghost films also went surprisingly well although I do manage to get into some painful positions while filming. This time I was in a tight crouch, my knee burning with strain, holding an aged and very hot slide projector at an awkward angle. After some minutes however I forgot the pain in my knee as I was momentarily distracted by my smouldering leg. The films seemed to turn out tolerably well.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The virgin, the glass and the glitterball Last night I went through the footage of my Pepper's Ghost experiment projecting it on the wall of my lodgings. Luckily it was a silent version a boon which enabled us to listen in on the activities of my upstairs neighbour. Miss Brown had another visitor last night, another heavy footed male this time with a propensity for loud television programmes. I was nearly on the point of getting annoyed at the interruption when there was a scream, silence and some furniture moving. After that, all was mercifully quiet. I made my companion sit through the screening several times to ascertain its effect leaving her to watch it alone while I bathed. After returning from my ablutions (a long restorative bath and a little detective fiction) I found her asleep with the film still playing. I hope this is a good sign. In anticipation that it is I have included a few stills below.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Sunday, 7 February 2010 "Lord of Misrule" Christopher Lee notes that he was conceived at the same time that Murnau was making "Nosferatu". He describes "The Scars of Dracula" (the only Hammer Dracula I haven't seen) as "truly feeble" and a quick flick through the illustrations remind me that, like his dear friend Mr Cushing, he too was in a "Star Wars" film titled "The Phantom Menace". Closing my eyes In langourous ecstasy I enjoy this toothsome serendipity. Saturday, 6 February 2010 Letter recieved regarding sideburns and performance art Hi Alex, I was just watching a really bad vampire film called Vlad on Zone Horror, but I've turned it off now, supposedly in favour of sleep.Been enjoying your blog, though sorry to hear you're not well, hope you feel better soon! I've finally started making myself keep one, in the hope it will better enable me to string a sentence together when people ask me what I've been working on... thought my latest entry might appeal to your dislike of performance art: http://snailsong.blogspot.com/2010/02/de-tangling-...While I tried to be suitably diplomatic in my blog about it, I actually found myself reminded of why I hate art sometimes! There was plenty of very dislikeable performance art there, including one extremely cringey piece involving a naked man psychoanalysing himself in a mirror. There was some stuff that was ok, but it was generally not the happiest occasion for me!There is at least one other performance art thing i've agreed to take part in coming up, but that should be more fun. I hope so anyway!Oh, I was also going to tell you, I went to a birthday party where it was obligatory to wear sideburns, as the host's impressive sideburns are his trademark. Mine were made of card and stuck on. Take care,Sonya x Miss Brown and the Phantom Miss Brown spends the morning cleaning her rooms. Below I lie in bed thinking about yesterday's events. In Ipswich returning to unlock my bicycle, I came across a man admiring it. It is true that the Phantom takes on new life in the sunlight, it is a handsome creature. The man, in his late thirties, with a Canadian accent asked me if I would consider selling it. I replied that in all conscience I could not as I loved it too dearly. For his part he seemed to take my answer well and wished me good fortune. My companion informed me that she had observed a great number of men of varying ages looking longingly at my bicycle. Today in my reverie, I have begun to think about the need for profit. Perhaps I shall make some brothers and sisters for the Phantom.In the evening my companion and I went to the Town Hall Galleries to see a show by Simon Liddiment and a fabulous display of work by some of my students from Suffolk New College. I smiled with surprise upon entering the gallery as the redoubtable Mr Liddiment had produced a show of what looked like East Anglian landscapes; some snowy, some ploughed even one which appeared tinct with a ruddy evening light. Ofcourse they were no such thing, it was all very interesting. I am sorry to report that, as usual, I had soon drunk too much and was reclining on a fortuitous sofa answering questions about the intended extent of my sideburns.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Latest Digest to be read in reverse Thursday, 11 February 2010 Lost post I spent twenty minutes writing a post about my visit to Islington Mill today. Just as I added the last picture the screen went blank. All was lost. Too tired now to write more. I am left with a list of people mentioned seen and met.Messrs Dave Griffiths & Andy Bracey (many thanks for everything)Young Master Bracey and his carTomas Harold (thanks for lunch)Jeremy Deller (nice jumper)Lesley Young (I think)BillRachel GoodyearDeaf taxi driverBlind taxi driver The Count of Monte Cristo At 1130 four artists (Annabel Dover, Hayley Lock, Mimei Thompson and I) were huddled together in the V&A café scribbling things and talking. Being largely from the country we had barely managed to negotiate the new multi-queue system unharmed. In actual fact one of our number had managed to drop their tray, cake, cups and all onto a (luckily) booted foot. We had wrangled with the hard-faced waitresses (clearly used to more vociferous complainers than we) but without satisfaction. So in a none too secret (or dark) corner we began our meeting. We were there to put together ideas for a new show, to come up with a title and a rough plan outlining how we should proceed. I began with what I hoped would be a rousing speech outlining the great obstacles ahead, the enemies we must overcome and the weapons at our disposal. We discussed many things: possible venues for our work (mostly linked to places each of us would like to visit); people who could help us (some practical, mostly fanciful), but most importantly what the show would "be about". This is a nasty phrase but as each of us hedged around our interests we came up with much common ground. Tales of Darkness, treasure, boyish adventure, secrecy and revenge seemed favourite. This hopelessly un-cabal-like meeting was hours ago. Now I am thinking of Lubinville on a Virgin train travelling north. It is painfully over heated in carriage C. The passengers slump flushed and languid and I find it hard to concentrate. I have been watching a BBC3 documentary on the Vampire and have decided that this is definitely the final nail in the coffin for the genre.'Gone With The Wind' is a colourful film. The overture, a painted intertitle, is resolutely still for an absurd length of time. So still in fact that I twice checked the DVD for scratches.I can't recall the plot this morning only the painted backdrops, flounces and the colour, too much colour, colour so dark and rich it tired my eyes and I thought of Des Esseintes' bejewelled tortoise. Here I have to admit this surfeit of polychromasic sensation was at least partially self inflicted as I had been fiddling with my projector and had managed to boost all channels to ridiculous levels.This morning the road to London seems bloodless in comparison. ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 16 February 2010 Magic Cathy Lomax has asked me to make some work for the next edition of 'Arty' the title is to be 'magic' so I spent some time yesterday reprising my "Pepper's Ghost" illusion for the stills camera. I found a statue of the Virgin Mary to be my assistant. She seemed very comfortable in the act of appearing magically inside the studio window. Virginity is, I suppose, not a condition usually associated with magician's assistants. Though often they feign ingenuousness they know too much. They have been initiated. Though I haven't yet decided which images to send to Cathy (they must also work in black and white) I am drawn to those which reveal the illusion. It is as if knowledge of the trick has failed to diminish the magic.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Wednesday, 17 February 2010 Confusion I am impatient to get to Whitstable. It seems that I will not be able to truly move on until I have finally encountered Mr Bown in the act of calling. My companion has reminded me on several occassions that there is another bingo hall not two hundred yards from my lodgings but I am unwilling to dilute the experience with pale imitation. This morning I came across a page in my notebook which illustrates my current state of mind. It is illustrated and transcribed in list form below. GleamA matter of life and deathChromamnesiaFlowersLipsStanding stillColourCamera ObscuraMagicAppearPearlvilleDouble actsChasesSlapstickRomanceEmotionVillainsHeroesMake doWesternsGangstersRuffiansNarrative ideas for the count of monte cristoJusticeTreasure sparkling possiblitiesDisguise and revengePlotsGoldfinger ideaRevenge on all those people who have ever slighted meDancersThree girlsDumpedVariousLast night we watched the Powell and Pressburger film "A Matter of Life and Death" I had seen it twice in the last twenty or so years. Despite this I was surprised to see that the action on Earth was in colour and Heaven in black and white. I had remembered it the other way round.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Lord of Misrule II In his autobiography Christopher Lee described bursting into Peter Cushing's dressing room shouting "I have no lines!" Cushing replied "you are lucky, I've read the script". Later he mentions staying with Mr and Mrs Cushing in Whitstable where he had an "elaborate aquarium of tropical fish". Like my companion he also tells of Cushing's enormous ornithological knowledge. I was most taken by another passage on pages 274-5"dying as Dracula was usually worse than having a tooth out. Being struck by lightning was the least of my discomforts. The worse was the time they discovered that vampires cannot abide hawthorns. I thought the religious connotation in dubious taste, but a film studio is not the ideal setting to thrash out a theological issue. I had to crash through a tangle of hawthorn bushes with a crown of thorns on my head, with Peter Cushing on the further side waiting to impale me with a stake snatched from a fence. They lacked the foresight to provide a dummy tree and I had to tear a way through vegetation with spines two inches long, emerging for tge coup de grâce shedding genuine Lee blood like a garden sprinkler. Bullets, daggers, paper-knives, stakes, darts and lances were embedded in me. Poison, heart failure and old age attacked me from within. I became dust - red, green or sooty. I was drowned, asphyxiated and incinerated, and three times when I was burnt, the barn or studio went up too. I always came back for more. Through clouds of nuclear waste I intoned, 'the world shall hear of me again.'".... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Thursday, 18 February 2010 I have received a letter from my landlord informing me that upon quitting my lodgings I must render them to their original state. After a brief survey I have come up with a list of things to do. Lean on the bathroom shelf and towel rail until they hang limply on the wall. Prise filler out of four large holes in the kitchen. Tear up the sealant on the bath and encourage mold growth by rubbing yoghurt into the crack. Kick the electrical socket by the door until it starts fizzing. Block the sink with unnamable matter. Place three pairs of soiled pants in the airing cupboard. Pull the toilet roll holder out and glue it back to the wall with a clear rubbery substance. Rub lard around the oven and bake until black smoke issues forth. That should do it.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Saturday, 20 February 2010 I write while watching a ridiculously over simplified facile and self contradictory documentary about homo interneticus. It has told me I am becoming more like a fox than a hedgehog. It is making me realise why I do not miss the television. I am in a hotel room, which I state by way of explanation, in London after a gruelling day trekking the streets with my companion. I am drained and weak, she seems unaffected. We have come so far. We have seen so much. One thing seen is this photograph of April Ashley Britain's pioneer of gender reassignment who in 1974 played countess Dracula at the Collegiate Theatre.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Sunday, 21 February 2010The Incredible Shrinking Man Obediphobia clutches at my neck. I am worried about copyright, a subject upon which I am conveniently vague. Just a few days ago I cracked and gave up my plans to make a meticulous pencil drawn animation from UFO footage of a man tumbling into space and decided instead to project the original onto the wall of my lodgings; refilm it, print out the stills, reanimate them and slow it all down. Is this enough?have I made it my own? Or will the makers of UFO require payment? Will I be pursued by litiginous scifi buffs? While worrying I came across the closing soliloquy from "The Incredible Shrinking Man" and thought that in the end I don't really care."I was continuing to shrink, to become... what? The infinitesimal? What was I? Still a human being? Or was I the man of the future? If there were other bursts of radiation, other clouds drifting across seas and continents, would other beings follow me into this vast new world? So close - the infinitesimal and the infinite. But suddenly, I knew they were really the two ends of the same concept. The unbelievably small and the unbelievably vast eventually meet - like the closing of a gigantic circle. I looked up, as if somehow I would grasp the heavens. The universe, worlds beyond number, God's silver tapestry spread across the night. And in that moment, I knew the answer to the riddle of the infinite. I had thought in terms of man's own limited dimension. I had presumed upon nature. That existence begins and ends in man's conception, not nature's. And I felt my body dwindling, melting, becoming nothing. My fears melted away. And in their place came acceptance. All this vast majesty of creation, it had to mean something. And then I meant something, too. Yes, smaller than the smallest, I meant something, too. To God, there is no zero. I still exist! "... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434   I awoke this morning to discover one of my sideburns was shorter than the other. I remembered a strange dream with three whispering women. Then an hour ago I received the following email from my companion which explains all. I did not remember waking in the night. Dear Alex Below is an account of my attempts to trim your sideburns in the night. You fell asleep quickly after our bath. You had your hand on the base of my back and then my hip which meant I couldn't turn round in case I woke you. I could feel your sideburns bristling me on the shoulder. I must have fallen asleep. I woke up needing a wee and remembering my horrible North Sea dream. You were on your back now, prone and I got back into bed holding the scissors. You turned away damn you and after falling asleep several times holding the scissors I crept my hands over your shoulders and holding the sideburn as I would a cats jaw pre worming I started to cut.'Annabel' you said 'Naughty' and told me you'd been dreaming. You jerked your face to the side and I worried the spear of the scissors would pierce your cheek.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Thursday, 25 February 2010   "Dear AlexDo I deduce from your blog that you are planning an imminent visit to Whitstable?It would be good to meet up, and to think more about possible venues for your work (venues are not easy in Whitstable, none of the usual Biennale stock of disused warehouses and abandoned industrial areas to choose from). Best wishesSue Jones"Perhaps I have been remiss in my comunications. However I am looking forward to meeting Sue again. The vexed question of the presentation and siting of my work has been firmly at the back of my mind drily scritch scratching inside my skull. I am not fond of the idea of inflicting my work on an unwilling public and am always wary of those artists who seem happy to act like the fox who always craps in the most prominent place possible. The other side of me craves adulation and twenty foot projections. What I really need is a secret lair, a bat cave, a Graceland, a Neverland, perhaps not Neverland.I have just found this crucifix and been sent this 1970's translation of a Vampire poem by Baudelaire:The Metamorphoses of the VampireThen the woman with the strawberry mouth,Squirming like a snake upon the coals,Kneading her breasts against the iron of her corset,Let flow these words scented with musk:— "I have wet lips, and I know the artOf losing old conscience in the depths of a bed.I dry all tears on my triumphing breastsAnd I make old men laugh with the laughter of children.For those who see me naked, without any covering,I am the moon and the sun and the sky and the stars!I am so dexterous in voluptuous love, my dear, my wise one,When I strangle a man in my dreadful arms,Or abandon my breast to his biting,So shy and lascivious, so frail and vigorous,That on these cushions that swoon with passionThe powerless angels damn their souls for me!"When she had sucked the pith from my bonesAnd, drooping, I turned towards herTo give her the kiss of love, I saw onlyAn old leather bottle with sticky sides and full of pus!I shut both eyes in cold dismayAnd when I opened them both to clear reality,By my side, instead of that powerful puppetWhich seemed to have taken some lease of blood,There shook vaguely the remains of a skeleton,Which itself gave the cry of a weathercockOr of a sign-board, at the end of a rod of iron,Which the wind swings in winter nights.— Geoffrey Wagner, Selected Poems of Charles Baudelaire (NY: Grove Press, 1974)... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Saturday, 27 February 2010The Caul Harry Caul spies on people, making a living from listening in. He is the best bugger on the west coast. He is paranoid, secretive and wears a dirty translucent rain mac. He hears but he can't always see and that leads to confusion. While we were watching Harry overhearing a murder in the adjacent hotel room my felonius neighbour was banging on his front door yelling "I kill you, I kill you". It soon went quiet. A 'caul' is a bit of amniotic sac that is sometimes present on a newborn baby. It is rare though, roughly one in a thousand people are born wearing a caul. Amongst the superstitious it is seen as lucky, as a protective charm against drowning and as a sign of greatness and clairvoyance. But in eastern Europe, backward peoples believe that a caul bearing child will become a vampire. I was born with a caul.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Thursday, 4 March 2010 Yearnings My neighbour seems to be in pain. Intermittent and weakening wails can be heard through the wall. I hope he will become quiet soon. While I wait I have begun making a list of people who visit my blog by accident. Information is inconsistent but I have been able to ascertain the location and search criteria of visitors using search engines. The following is a selected list from the last month of those that were not looking for me. They are listed by place, server name if available, and the search made in inverted commasLittle Rock, Arkansas, dept of veteran affairs. "flashing in public"Royal Tunbridge Wells, "bingo hall whitstable"Slough, "Monika Bobinska"Jakarta, Pearl Gardens Apartments, "My Vision of the future"The Art Institute International, Pittsburgh, "blender blogspot"Vienna, "shrinking man drawn to toilette"Pearlfisher, London, "pearlfisher moving card"Hamilton, Ontario, "devils coat"Hammondsport, NewYork, "vampire whore"Sydney, Australia, "Rachel Goodyear biography"Kompachy, Slovakia, "interview with a vampire"Brooklyn, NewYork, "mummified girl looks like she is sleeping"Apo, Armed Forces Europ, United States(No record of google search)Gravesend, Kent, "Monika Bobinska"Wolverhampton City Council, "Anneka French"Ho Chi Min City, "college new students"... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Saturday, 6 March 2010 Christopher Frayling suggests that the key to Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' may be the scene where Harker is beset by three vampire ladies. He thinks a similar traumatic event may have happened at the story's genesis when Stoker whiled away time with Byron, Pollidori and the Shelleys in Switzerland. I too was wasting time in London yesterday, waiting for my companion while she underwent a gruelling phd tutorial with Mark Fairnington, Nichola Foster and Malcolm Quinn, a fearsome threesome. I decided to visit Mark Aerial Waller's video installation at Cell Project Space. As I entered I saw the crouching Mr Waller being beset himself. This time the aggressors were three topless furies. Well, I assumed they were furies, so awful was their acting that there was not one jot of fury about them. Still, this seemed to be the point. I did enjoy Mr Waller's low crotched fencing suit and a simple trick with the mirror filter.I am presently engaged in looking for new lodgings that will accept one neurotic, but well behaved cat. I have offered to shave her as illustrated.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Monday, 8 March 2010 More or less My sideburns have been trimmed, the grey and brown cuttings held, like a Victorian keepsake, in an inlaid wooden box. I had not made a decision to cut them nor was I wholeheartedly set on the path of continuing to grow them until I reached Whitstable. I was, I admit, beginning to appear much like a Dickensian character, a look that was beginning to attract curious looks in the street. Not that this was worrying me overmuch in a town where many people are positively mediaeval in their demeanor. Nevertheless in an act of characteristic certainty my companion took matters into her own hands and I have been shorn. Now I am myself certain of my path. I intend to sculpt my sideburns into near perfect replicas of Mr Cushing's. I have only to decide which incarnation of Van Helsing to emulate.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 9 March 2010 My efforts today have centred on preparations for a trip to Lincoln where I will be delivering a talk to students of the university. I have one ready but can never leave it alone. I add and remove images constantly mainly in the hope of finding a good way to end it. In "Swimming to Cambodia" Spalding Gray describes a time when he could not leave home without hearing a positive word on the radio. Often these signals would be ridiculously out of context. He would hear something like: "the death rate is 'up'" and he could go out.Here follows another list of searches that have washed up on my blog. Often it is easy to see what people seem to be looking for. Other searches however appear to be the vague pilgrimages of the bored. I myself (like many others I am sure) am guilty of typing in my own name hoping, I think, to find something new or unexpected. San Antonio Texas, "slow shrink man"New South Wales, Australia, "God's silver tapestry spread across the night. And in that moment, I knew the answer to the riddle of the"Waterloo, Ontario, " recurring image have we seen at least 3 times in the pearl"London, "Malcolm Quinn"Windsor Board of Education, Ontario "Monte Cristo pearls"Ever behind the times, I was sad to discover that Spalding Gray committed suicide in 2004.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 To say that I was saddened to hear of the death of Actor Corey Haim would be a slight exaggeration. To be brutally honest I cannot recall which one of the "Lost Boys" he played. Discovering however that he died at an age which is irrefutably less than mine.In the studio I am currently working on a series of drawings of an ever diminishing spaceman. By "studio" I mean on the floor of my flat. I am again preparing boards with black paint, a process which involves painting, smoothing, swearing and defending the pristine paintwork from a cat that instinctively knows that black surfaces are the warmest. The next stage will involve the delicate application of gold powder to a varnish painted drawing. I have no illusions that this will be in any way successful. A rather more likely result is that I will be left with a finely gilded feline ornament much like Des Esseintes' tortoise.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The process of making images of the diminishing spaceman has thrown up an interesting distraction. Before I blow and brush the surplus gold dust away, the disapointing man is hidden behind a sort of cosmic cloud, a precious spillage far more beautiful than he. Once revealed he seems lost. The spaceman, removed from the context of his tumbling fall, is merely a dumb arrangement of golden motes.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Poison! "St George's Day is on the 24th April ('our May 6th'), and the night before is, by tradition, a Witches' Sabbat." (Quoted from Bram Stoker's working papers for 'Dracula')Contentment is a fugacious state in Saint George's street. New lodgers have moved in to the ground floor apartments. This has proved a rude awakening for my companion and I. We have become acustomed to noise (as any regular reader on these journals will know) but these new neighbours are vociferous exponents of the art of smoking and we find ourselves in a fug.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Did Alexander the Great find it a difficult combination, discussing philosophy with Aristotle and charging at the head of the Hetairoi into a phalanx of spearmen? I certainly have found it problematic trying to edit a phd while watching the rugby. Although I do believe there are some connections between Lacanian structures and the makeup of the rugby team. While I consider this I am developing new methods for preventing the ingress of cigarette smoke. Soon my lodgings may resemble Andy Warhol's factory or Mel Gibson's house in a film the title of which I forget.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Correspondences My Companion emailed Mr Bown this morning to confirm our intended filming appointment on Saturday. She was nervous as she explained that it is often at this last minute when the event is upon them that her victims scream and run. Happily Mr Bown seemed delighted and even offered us a Scampi supper, a special at the bingo hall this week. I have only to clean my tape heads and collect an extra camera and I will be all set. I am writing from a cafe in Felixstowe where five other correspondents are taking my attention this morning. Andrew Bracey & Dave Griffiths, Anneka French, Rob Smith, and Dr Daniel Hinchcliffe. I enclose my replies below. "Hi you twoIndeed I am emailing from sunny felixstowe today. I think the first two weeks in august would be perfect for me. I don't think i am back at work until around the 26th but it's all quite flexible at that time of year anyway. The show looks exciting and I'm really happy about showing on both sites. I'm currently in discussion with a friend about arranging a live online broadcast during the residency which may or may not work. We shall see. The longer run is fine too though I have a solo down this end which I think will overlap so I will have to make sure I have enough tvs etc to go round. But as you say I think we will be able to pick loads up for next to nothing from charity shops etc. I'm ready for Lincoln I think though I discovered yesterday half my images don't show up on a pc. Good job I checked. AJ's tatooing equipment sounds terrifying. Has he read Kafka's 'the penal colony'???? I hope not. See you soonAlex ""Hi AnnekaI will certainly write something, when is the deadline?I've attached the highest res image I have, hope it's ok, I haven't got the original back yet so I can't re photograph it in time. Please use it if you want.I'll be perfectly happy to post it to you, the most it will need is a bit of re-bending when it arrives. I will write instructions for this eventuality.All the bestAlex""Hi RobI shall get out on my bike and find a field with 3g. In that sense Manchester might be easier depending how far you are willing to stretch the definition of 'a field'. But that is another thing. What I have been thinking about recently (entirely in the back of my mind and without any concrete planning) is making some work in the vein of the early rocket tests for space exploration. I thought about documenting my efforts to fire a camera into the air and get some short lived live footage from the rocket itself. It's all going to be entirely homemade so it probably won't work. Do think this would fit in? Is it a problem if your dongle explodes?I'm busy this Thursday but after that I think I'm pretty free.All the bestAlex" "Hi DanHow are you and everyone? Time has flown by, I only realised last week that the show must be over. How did it go? Did the rowing team destroy it with a drunken conga? I was wondering what your thoughts were about me getting the work back? I have been asked to show one of the works (which I left in the packaging) in Lincoln in April. Do you think you could parcel it up and post it to me. I'm not at all worried about the sculptures getting broken. Or would you rather I came up on the train?All the bestAlex"... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Wednesday, 17 March 2010   Tonight we are watching "Gypsy". I am impatiently for the lead to grow up and get into a sparkly dress. At the moment she is the front end of cow.Recent search engine misses are listed below: Richmond, Virginia, "sleep-talking"Uk, "hell as cosmic"Dayton, Ohio, "making of incredible shrinking man"Central District, Hong Kong, "I was continuing to shrink"Mississauga, Ontario, Canada, unknown image search. Burlington, Vermont, "descent into hell paintings"London, "Pearlfisher Christmas card"... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Helsing's preparations to take on the vampire involve detailed delegation and the sharing of tokens. Garlic flowers for the ladies, crucifixes for the men, and for himself a wafer in an envelope. I have also been preparing, preparing for my long anticipated filming in Whitstable. I have been meticulous. Three cameras are now fully charged, their heads cleaned (at a not inconsiderable cost of £16) lenses polished and fresh tapes inserted. My companion, however, has been absorbed with other things. The final organising of her phd confirmation has consumed her for some time. But now it nearly done. Today, as the day progressed, she took a growing interest in my preparations and I was rejoiced to see that the exigency of affairs was helping her to forget the terrible experience of the last few days.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Whitstable part 1 We are travelling! The six eleven train departed on time and I am hopeful we shall make our ongoing connections at Stratford, Stratford International and Rochester. My companion has rallied during the day. She sports a little more colour in her cheeks and is gaily showing me photographs of Manchester on the Guardian website. I must admit I am nervous of what lays ahead. eight more posts detailing my adventures in Whitstable are now available at http://thepearlfisher.blogspot.com... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Lincoln With pity in his voice the mustachioed guard informed me that it would take over four hours to get to Lincoln and that I would be blessed with an hour to cool my heels in Peterborough. At around 25 pence per minute I believe the train to be great value for money. At one I shall be presenting my work to students in Lincoln. Happily I am being distracted from my nervousness by a gentleman two seats away who is managing to stretch his legs under the table in front of him, under the facing seats and into my footwell. I have been kicked twice and fear that before long I must challenge him on his inconsiderate behaviour. Find out what happened in Lincoln and some wise words about train toilet usage at http://thepearlfisher.blogspot.com... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Call Since a brief but debilitating illness I have been trying to catch up with my work for Whitstable. I have decided to title it Call though I did consider Caul, I have never been good with titles. It will be split between two screens one silent the other not so. One will depict the caller the other the players although there will be some crossover. This is, I believe, my first film with real people and a necessary narrative. This fact is making me somewhat agitated. My daughter is watching The Green Mile on television where Tom Hanks is taking an inordinate amount of time to execute a prisoner using electricity. I am afraid watching my film might prove similar. Upon making this post I was shocked to realise my subscription to this august publication is about to expire. In fact it has only one day to run (the number is in red to the right of this screen). My finances hang rather finely in the balance at the moment making me wonder which obligations I can afford to keep up. Re-title has already fallen by the wayside. I have given myself a month to bend my website to my will or drop it. Axis? AN? it is a delicate decision. more pictures at http://thepearlfisher.blogspot.com  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Lost Souls Here follows another list of search engine misses that have washed up at the PearlfisherSchillsdorf, Schleswig-holstein, Germany, "Whitstable"Sanfrancisco, California, "hetairoi definition"New Orleans, Louisianna, unspecified image searchRotherham, United Kingdom, "anneka french"Good Hope, Illinois, United States "bond villain"Bridgwater, Somerset, United Kingdom "bond villain"Puteaux, Ile-de-france, "shrinking man"Cincinnati, Ohio, United States, "Rachel Goodyear interview"Coventry, United Kingdom, "Whitstable"Richmond, Virginia, "recurring 3 times in the pearl"Uk, "count of monty cristo blog"Uk, "bingo Whitstable Kent"   more posts available at http://thepearlfisher.blogspot.com ps I paid my subscription... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Call is complete or more accurately I believe it to be so. My companion is about to review the left hand side, I nervously await her verdict. We are separated at the moment by a distance of some miles. She waits for me at my lodgings sending regular messages about madmen in the street and the unusual movements of Miss Brown in the flat above. Happily, below, the smokers seem to have been thrown on to the street and have been replaced by a much more continent individual who treads quietly. In my lodgings we experience everything through sound first, we could look but often choose not to. Call, I have decided, is as much about sound as vision so I have left the sound on the right hand film also. Here in the countryside I am watching television and burning a dvd of all my Whitstable films for Sue Jones, I pray she will like them too.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 I have received a message, there is a full moon over Whitstable tonight and an unusually high tide. Here the wind blows stronger by the hour forcing the trees to an uncomfortable crouch. Forecasts are such that we may soon expect gusts of such power that a strong man may not keep his feet in the beating rain, and snow! I shall check the newspaper reports in the morning for further information.As I write my companion has written to me. While I am watching Johnny Cash audition dressed in black she also is watching a film. The excited message reads:"Just seen Christopher Lee in a thriller!"As he appeared the signal was lost, I know not the name of the film, his character nor the outcome.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 CAGED! Disappointingly there have been no news reports of strange weather nor shipwrecks at Whitstable. All seems strangely calm in Ipswich too. In truth strangely is perhaps the wrong word to use in a Town whose newspaper headline this morning reads "IPSWICH BIGAMIST FINALLY CAGED" If only we had a zoo my narrative would be complete. I am squinting at the screen to write this. Not a week ago I was told that I would require new glasses as my right eye is failing. This news was not unexpected as my companion has been deriding my poor eysight for a while. The cost of my new glasses will be enormous although I did manage to beat the over enthusiastic saleswoman down from £400 to nearly half that figure. The only fillip has been that I am now so myopic that I qualify for free eyetests and a 15% NHS discount. I suppose that as I can see nothing it seems only fair that the test should be waived but it does make me feel like a blind television owner.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434   I have spent several days in limbo. Separated from my companion and my usual routine I have achieved very little. In my new largely sedentary lifestyle, I have however reacquainted myself with satellite TV and its frightening array of televisual fodder. As I write "Murder She Wrote" has just started. Its opening scene shows a blind female sculptor forming something from clay. She looks off screen in that way actors have of signifying sightlessness and says "I see with my hands now". I have a sense of foreboding. There is still no news from Bath in regard to the return of my work. I have determined to email a few more contacts in the hope that University cutbacks have not struck the arts programming. As far as Whitstable goes, the films are now more or less finished. I have sent copies to Sue and she has set her minions to finding appropriate locations. Yesterday I was finally able to meet with my companion again. We have been pining a little and had hoped to spend some time relaxing together unfortunately before long she mislaid her phone and much of the rest of the day was spent in its search. I finally located it in a half open drawer of an ornate dresser in the studio, but this was after dark and she had already returned to our lodgings in Ipswich. Later I received the following letter.     "Dear Darling You are clever! Christ, how weird, I am obviously a serious candidate for senility as I have absolutely no recollection whatsoever of even going near the dresser. Thank you very much darling. I am in Rasputin's now. I came last night but a Bond villain was here in place of the usual friendly woman with the long eyelashes. He said "NO INTERNET. But you need a drink?" to which I misunderstood and said: "erm no I'm going to Tesco thank you", "no a PROPER drink" etc ensued for a bit until I ran out and he said: "Don't be scared littel girl" Chilling. Anyway I went back today and a nice lady with the hair the colour of those Alpine aggressive squirrels is here and she is telling me about her slack beauty regime. I looked out of the window this morning and saw the pate of the man below and the pink and white hair of his lady. They are the same people. She had one of those extra large fags on the go, the kind that look like albino magic wands. The Portuguese (the neighbours to our left) were at it last night and he must have learnt a new sound that sounds like a lion cub trying to roar. She laughed at him. I woke up at about two and stared at the stars which soothed me and tried to hold Dougal but he is so flat now and I didn't want to risk squeezing his kapok out of his duodendal (sic?) sinus. I re-made the Alcatraz Alex but he was a bit flat too and I knew I only had a few hours to wait for the seagulls to wake up. Going to get breakfast in a minute maybe at 'Sunrise' and then get the train. I miss you and love you. Thank you very much for finding my phone darling. You are the greatest man I know. PS saw Jeremy Deller in a film in the Sainsbury Centre and he was vile-sinewy and creepy-I take it all back. Lots of love Your Companion"  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Still no news from Bath, all is silent and foreboding. I may be forced to use the phone but I am nervous of what I might discover. Soon I must travel to Wysing with my companion. She is involved in some sort of art market there (as apparently am I). I have promised to make some live broadcasts of a series of rocket launches. I look forward to seeing how they might turn out. There is also much uncertainty in the ether. On Twitter there is a great furore over the Debill a matter which has caused me much confusion. I am given to understand that as a creative person I will be more protected and less protected and more restricted and certainly more confused. In truth I believe I will continue to ignore that which makes me uneasy and pray it might not affect me. A foolish approach perhaps but one that has served me well in the past. Similarly there is a great deal of information about what each of the political parties intend for the arts. Like creepy uncles they feign too much interest. In all my reading I have found that I have no convictions as men of my century understand the word, because I have no ambition. There is no basis in me for a conviction.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Friday, 9 April 2010Mortality My reaquaintance with television has revealed a sort of vampire saturation point. So far this week I have seen Reruns of "Buffy", "Vampire Diaries", "True Blood", "Blade the series", a Sherlock Holmes called "The Last Vampyre" films including: "Cirque de Freak", "The Lost Boys", "Slayer", "Vampire Journals" it is all too too much. Many of the current vampire tales seem hell bent on integration an interesting development but one which might neuter the myth forever. Yesterday I received my contract for the biennale containing promises of a healthy remuneration. It may seem remarkably unprofessional but I had been working blind. Too embarrassed to ask if, or how much, I might be paid I had resolved just to blunder forward making things and writing this blog until my time ran out. Now I know the exact figure it has engendered in me the usual feelings of fear and inadequacy.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 uesday, 13 April 2010 Blood and Kites I have received interesting information from sources in New York of a blood cocktail. Thankfully it was for animal blood though I am not sure that this detail makes it any more palatable. The recipe from http://jesseacohen.blogspot.com is quoted below:"It’s called a Squeezer. Essentially it’s animal blood drained into a glass. The safest place to obtain this red stuff is through the butcher. Remember to ask for pig’s blood instead of from a cow. With the oinkers you have less chance contracting mad cow, salmonella, and E. Coli. As a further precaution, eliminate any excess bacteria by cooking the blood on a low heat for 5 minutes. Let cool. Serve with a lemon wedge. Enjoy."Although I am perfectly capable of eating black pudding, rare steaks and barely warmed poultry livers I find this beverage more than a little nauseating. The reference to mad cow disease, however, is particularly apposite as, in Ipswich, our Conservative party candidate is none other than Ben Gummer. As a boy he was (I am lead to believe) fed a good deal of high risk meat products by his father John. Still I saw him in the street yesterday ruddy faced and steady on his feet. Today my companion and I drove to Walberswick to test it's 3G connectivity and to fly a kite. The former was none existent. The latter activity was prematurely concluded when, distracted by a frisby, my companion loosed the kite which promptly headed out to sea. Before it fell tragically into the waves there was a magical moment when the sea grasped the string and through the motion of it's ebb and flow briefly flew the kite with such skill that we were mesmerised. I, of course, failed to capture any of this on camera.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Wednesday, 14 April 2010Lost Souls My favourites of the following lost souls is the person in a library in the Bronx looking for a connection between Zizek and vampires and the obscure searcher from Ohio who was looking for "tight crouches" Portland, Oregon, United States, "my vision of the future"Bronx, New York, United States, "zizek election slovenia vampire"Dayton, Washington, United States, "images of marijuana"Banbury, Oxfordshire, United Kingdom, "my new glasses"New York, United States, "pearl fishers April 2010"Paintsville, Kentucky, United States, "marijuana plants"Peterborough, United Kingdom, "glasses or contacts"Piqua, Ohio, United States, "tight crouches"Chambly, Quebec, Canada, "prepare you to die mr bond"... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Bathroom Reading   My ongoing researches into blood drinking practices has lead me to the door of a strange group of people called the sanguinarians. These for the most part peaceful folk are (according to message boards on various websites) made up of true vampires and non-vampires who merely enjoy the taste of human blood. I observed one fascinating conversation in which the subject of the value of drinking one's own blood was hotly contested. In my bathroom Christopher Lee's autobiography is nearing it's end. While I lie in my bath he talks to me of his greatest friends and the stories surrounding them. He speaks lovingly of Peter Cushing of course but also of John Gielgud's barely disguised lust for Charlton Heston; of Boris Karlof who lived next door; of Bela Lugosi who asked to be buried in his cloak and of H.P Lovecraft who never went out during daylight. My companion tells me there was a man in Aldeburgh who also remained permanently indoors during the day and when he died was buried at night. In my toilet both Mr Frayling and Mr Copper's lay splayed like dead bats. I have finished with them. Only the illustrations interest me now. This one hurriedly recorded reminds me of my companion both in looks and attitude. Though the identity of the vampiric woman and mustachioed man elude me.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Blue Film III I have completed my final "Blue Film" with a kite flying trip to Walberswick. As with the second film's abortive flying experiment I instructed my companion to make a second attempt. She informed me she had never successfully flown a kite before and was delighted when it pulled enthusiastically into the sky. The film required no editing and only one take. If all goes well this and the other Whitstable films will all be screened at the Biennale between 19th June - 4th July... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The Unicorn It is nearly time to quit my lodgings, to leave behind Miss Brown and her nocturnal manouvers, the portuguese men (and women) o' war, and the man who sings opera in the street. The sun is gently warming me, the bins are, finally, being collected and good honest workmen are heaving timber into the little theatre opposite. I shall soon be moving into the top floor of an old Georgian pub. "The Unicorn" which now houses a charity shop, hairdressers and offices is a rather grand building quite close to my place of work. It is built on the site of an old monastery, specifically over it's cemetary.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Friday, 23 April 2010Communications from Whitstable have revealed exciting new developments. Tonight's film "Dr No" dynamic with it's beautiful (iPod stolen) opening credits reflects my mood perfectly. Admittedly I have had a drink. Sue has sent me a detailed email about the places my films may be shown. It looks as if "Call" is to be screened in the Royal British Legion. I am exceedingly excited. I am still packing for my move to new lodgings, and seem to have more possessions than could possibly fit into my current flat or the small van I have retained for tomorrow. This, my addiction for plastic storage boxes and the seeming impossibility in finding out the actual address of my new apartments are my chief worries at the moment.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Saturday, 24 April 2010 Today I have learned that carrying boxes up several flights of stairs is perhaps the most exhausting activity known to man or beast. Unfortunately I had no beast to assist me. My travails were further compounded when my companion experienced an attack of the vapours and fainted. Now I lie abed watching a Spanish Dracula film. Christopher Lee is giving some serious vespertilious action but many of the other actors (with the exception of Klaus Kinski) are frankly not up to the job. Tonight I am reminded that Dracula is chiefly a novel about moving house.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Sunday, 25 April 2010 How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads, to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams. Our first night in The Old Unicorn was mercifully ghost free. As my companion is more than a little nervous of spectral apparitions this was somewhat of a relief. In the end all that disturbed our rest was a rather flat band playing at the pub down the road. Every time someone exited the hostelry there escaped a noise so loud that I was forced by reflex to sit upright in bed. Waiting for the revelry to cease I decided to read my copy of "Arty Magick". I counted Alli Sharma's rabbits until sleep overcame me. Today I scrubbed and hoovered and wiped and buffed. My old lodgings are cleaner now than they were when I moved in. I gave my companion the dirtier jobs: the toilet and oven while I tackled the stubborn black mould on windows that frankly needed stripping and repainting. By the time I had finished scrubbing they were indeed stripped. It is eight now, we have decided to retire.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 27 April 2010 An empty room Talking to Sue Jones on the telephone made me realise just how empty my new living room is. The echo is hard and dead. My companion and I have taken measures to rectify this but the longed for soft furnishings are yet to arrive. A rug awaits collection from a depot somewhere in Claydon and Ikea have not replied since I sent certain information regarding delivery. Surely they are not preturbed by the lack of nearby parking, narrow entrance and two flights of stairs? Sue had exciting news, the Royal British Legion have confirmed their willingness to host 'Call' and it looks like 'Ghosts' which I wish I had called 'Phantoms' is to appropriately appear only at night back projected. She also informed me that Jack Hutchinson from AN had been in touch and wishes to feature my work in the June issue. Only a sofa and a rug could make my life more complete.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Wednesday, 28 April 2010 Lost Souls Here follows yet another list of people who were clearly looking for something else when they washed up on my blog. It is perhaps not suprising that my use of the title "Blue Film" should draw attention though I had thought by not using "Movie" I would avoid causing too much disappointment. In fact the phrase, to me, seems rather quaint. A "blue movie" (this will raise heads at computer terminals on the Indian subcontinent) is a rather nostalgic phrase conjuring a more gentle, softly lit age that I'm not sure ever existed. I hope the person looking up Charlton Heston wasn't too shocked. Douglasville, Georgia, United States"there's a message in the storm"Irthlingborough, Northamptonshire, "my new glasses"Chopra, Uttarakhand, India, "blue film"Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala, India, "blue film"Indonesia, "blue film"Jakarta, Jakarta Raya, Indonesia, "blue film"Tirupati, Andhra Pradesh, India, "blue film"Ipswich, "ben gummer"Jakarta, Jakarta Raya, Indonesia, "blue film"Paramount, California, United States, "Anna the vampire diaries"Nasik, Maharashtra, India, "blue film"Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, "blue film"Johor Bahru, Johor, Malaysia, "blue film"United States, "caul bearing children"United Kingdom, "faphorism" New York, United States, "charlton Heston"Riga, Latvia, "pearl aphorism"... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Darkness surrounds me. I am beset on all sides by demons. Apart from this, work is going well. "Meleager's Garland" opens soon in Lincoln, though I feel due largely to a feeling of lethargic ennui I may not make the opening. Today's business has been the testing of the live broadcast software for http://www.fieldbroadcast.org/Hopefully next week will see my attempts to launch rockets broadcast live onto desktops around the world. I am sincerely hoping I won't blow my fingers off whilst craving a bit of innocent drama. My test broadcast was much more pedestrian as I chose to film a surveillance camera that swivels menacingly in the street outside my new lodgings. So far settling into the flat is progressing at a languid pace. The purchase of a lurid rug has allowed my companion and I to 'picnic' in the living room. We still do most of our 'living' in the bedroom which is in itself larger than my old appartments at St George's street. Last night, huddled in bed, we watched a film in which a character called Verbal constructed it's entire narrative from the words on papers pinned to the wall behind his interrogator.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 4 May 2010 Keyser Söze My companion and I are on a train bound for London. We are heading to the book launch of our dear friend Paul Becker. My companion describes him as a "black bear" and has warned me that much of his output is rather pornographic. The launch tonight is for a collection called "False Testimony". In reference to last night's viewing I came across this note in an august online journal: 'In his 1999 review of Fight Club, film critic Roger Ebert commented, "A lot of recent films seem unsatisfied unless they can add final scenes that redefine the reality of everything that has gone before; call it the Keyser Söze syndrome." 'My companion has a similar syndrome in her name. She always spots the final twist within the first few minutes' viewing, tells me and then loses confidence. It is a little like watching a film in reverse.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 At work, avoiding work, I am staring out of an upper storey window at the small decorative spire of St Henrietta's which lies opposite the college. The sky is cinereal, there is a light drizzle and the coffee is sour. I am glancing boredly at stories of new ash clouds which could threaten the return of my colleagues from New York. But it is unlikely. To my left is a copy of Paul Becker's False Testimony. I have read, or at least scanned (my concentration level allows no more at present), the first two pieces. The second purports to be a witness statement against an immolated witch who shares a name with my companion. Still disquieted by the power of 'Verbal', I find it uncannily affecting and worry about the pain of a death by burning.Are witches, I wonder, usually dispatched similarly to vampires?... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Home and Away I am waiting for a sofa. It is to be delivered by pantechnicon between two and six this afternoon. I have started early. My companion is in a state of excitement, a condition which has manifest in lighthearted cleaning of kitchen and bathroom. It may be that the prospect of something to sit on has driven her to these extremes or it may be her recent invitation to Paris. An eminent painter has offered an all expenses paid trip with accomodation at a hotel in Montmartre. He seems gentlemanly in demeanor but I have natural fears that her virtue may be under threat. The trip has been organised to celebrate a retrospective of this gentleman's work at The Pompidou Centre. This morning, as is our habit now, we completed the Guardian quick crossword over coffee at a local café. We were surprised to find that this gentleman and his family provided answers to several of the clues. Thursday, 6 May 2010 "She has a lovely neck" I have just had a discussion with my companion. It seems her invitation to Paris came about because the esteemed artist mentioned in my previous post had seen a photograph exclaiming "you must bring her, she will be perfect". While she is dreaming of Paris I have been booking tickets and rooms for my own journeying. Firstly rooms at the Continental in Whitstable and secondly train tickets for a lecture I have been asked to deliver in Newcastle (under lyme). Thankfully my expenses are to be covered for this journey.   Friday, 7 May 2010   A delightful young lady, Miss Emma Leach telephoned today. I was hanging upside down modelling for some drawing students at the time so I may have sounded strained. It soon transpired that Miss Leach is working for the Whitstable Biennale and was trying to arrange a tap dancing show at the bingo hall where I made my film. My contact there, Mr Bown has moved on so I fear I was of little use. This evening seated on my new sofa I have been perusing the biennale website which has suddenly sprung to life. Events are listed, much excitement promised. The sofa was constructed in a largely good humoured team effort by my companion and I. Putting together an Ikea sofa is much like discovering the workings of a magic trick, all cardboard, staples and string.http://www.whitstablebiennale.com... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Sunday, 9 May 2010 Launch. day one Last night I dreamt of my companion but as she might have been years ago. It was a time before I knew her, she was living in the sort of bedsit squalor that many of us experienced as students. Several of us were squeezed into her basement room sitting upon a deep litter of paper, books and small dead animals. A large grey (alive) badger was reclining on her bed snuffling at some dark matter. At some stage my glasses became separated from me and were broken, trampled into the ground. Once recovered I discovered that the right hand lens had been cracked. I was aware that they were new and expensive but was not overly perturbed.I have been looking at the Whitstable Biennale website (delighted with my own page) and was daydreaming that with all the tap dancing and invisible fireworks that perhaps artists must all be mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait waistcoats. Dreams and reverie aside, today with my companion's assistance I made my first rocket launch for 'Field Broadcast' http://www.projeckt.org.uk/fieldbroadcast.htmlHere follow some rather farcical images of my makeshift field broadcast tent and rocket gantry.The rockets sputtered and flamed reaching a maximum height of a third of an inch. Unfortunately the broadcast itself did not work quite as well as expected producing only a short image of a stationary rocket.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Monday, 10 May 2010 Launch. Day 2 Oh misery piled upon misery. My companion has sent a long distressed message from Paris. She has run away even before she could meet the notable artist for reasons I cannot repeat here. Apparently she may see him tomorrow for a short time. I am sick with worry and short of getting on a horse tonight I have little recourse but to wait and hope for happier tidings. Her cat seems settled in my company which is somewhat of a blessing although I have to admit to leaving a window open and having to make a desperate dive to pull her back in (my lodgings are on the second storey and I fear even for a cat the fall would have been fatal). Even as I write, however, she mewls relentessly into my face and the 'naughty cupboard' awaits her.Earlier today, at five to be precise, I made my second rocket launch. This time the gantry was placed on the fire escape to the rear of my flat. The broadcast went well although I felt that Mr Smith seemed a bit disappointed at the location's lack of "fieldness". I will make a third launch tomorrow, hopefully the rocket will go upwards instead of down.Should anyone wish to see tomorrows broadcast they will find the means herehttp://www.projeckt.org.uk/fieldbroadcast/download...... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 11 May 2010 Peril in Paris Another message from my companion I now truly fear for her safety! Her hotel is perilously close to the Quartier Pigalle a district of Paris with little to recommend it except that Picasso and Lautrec had studios there. This is in itself perhaps not a recommendation. Since her arrival she has been beset by men and their lascivious intentions. At the hotel she was told by a helpful concierge that no woman in Paris has breasts because all they eat is black coffee and cigarette smoke and she should take such attention as a compliment. Running from rather than following this excellent advice she went to a pawnbrokers near the hotel and bought a wedding band which she wears like a talisman. Earlier I stumbled upon this engraving from "Varney the Vampire"... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Launch 1 AN almost exclusive! For future broadcasts download your viewer here http://www.projeckt.org.uk/fieldbroadcast/download.html... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Wednesday, 12 May 2010 Vampires! Received Today at 1305"Hellish morning trying to find dog cemetery horrible man grabbing me by the waist and holding onto me got my knitting needle out and said allez vous en loudly then another man came to the rescue and then persistantly asked me to go with him for a drink i am on the shitty outskirts going to get back to the centre now and never returnlots and lots of love A xxxxx"My companion sends me messages typed on French keyboards which have no punctuation marks. This lack of grammar makes them more worrying as if blurted out in a hurry while some dark force scratches at the window. As darkness falls I am yet again reading A dear friend has given me a book which claims to be based upon Abraham Lincoln's lost diaries. It wildly suggests that whilst he was a politician he was also hiding a secret life as a vampire hunter. Really this is too much to believe.However, am I alone when looking at our current politcal leaders in feeling a compulsion to reach for the garlic?... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Black thoughts I am still abed. My neck aches and I cannot be fussed with getting dressed. But I must. There are rockets awaiting assembly at my studio for a launch this afternoon and the following two days. I need the mental emetic coffee to exorcise this lethargic mood but I cannot bear it without milk and I am without milk.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Launch 5: a thin trail of smoke This afternoon's rather unspectacular broadcast from a field somewhere along the coast may have not seemed very interesting but it marks an important step forward. Today I have proved I can build a rocket powerful enough to carry a small camera some way into the sky. By "build" I mean modify as my new collection of rockets are in fact merely customised fireworks. Once removed of it's explosive payload and despite carrying a camera module and a new jacket the rocket flew tolerably well. The broadcast also went well I think though I yet again forgot my phone and was unable to warn Rob or Rebecca of my impending launch. I can only blame my Forgetfulness on the terrible headache (brought on, I think, by my stiff neck) that has beset me all day.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Friday, 14 May 2010 Launch 6 My companion is returned from Paris much scarred by her experience. She spent most of the day in bed refusing to be stirred. For my part I am even now still suffering with an intense headache which has not abated all day. Tomorrow we will travel to Wysing where I have been asked to play the role of "Gimp" a creation of artist Hayley Lock. Not acustomed to acting I am unsure how it will be received. If I am booed the trip will not be for ought as I also intend to fire a final rocket into the heavens it will carry a small camera broadcasting it's rise and inevitable fall. Today's test went well I was delighted not to have destroyed a £40 camera. Though I was a somewhat concerned when my companion mentioned she thought I had just fired a rocket into a nesting area of the rare little ringed plover. This aside, anyone watching would or should have seen the spiralling descent of Launch 6... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Flies Eight small flies have taken up residence in my bedroom. They doodle lazy triangles above my bed and then quite suddenly explode into frenzied dogfights which end as quickly as they start. They rest in pairs, two to a star on old Christmas decorations that still hang from the ceiling. Flies and Spiders Mr Pig (my companion's cat) has begun a slow genocide. There are two less flies than a few minutes ago. The survivors seem unperturbed at the lessening in their numbers continuing to gambol while the stealthy executioner looks on. Pig is a skillful killer of the tiny. At the studio she slays spiders laying their curled corpses out in a neat rows. Three mice and a periwig My dear companion has just recalled a time when The Pig caught a mouse and laid it neatly under her bedside table next to two toy mice. Each (apparently) faced the same direction and was evenly spaced. I am just about ready to face the events of yesterday, my acting debut as "the Gimp". But there are so many memories I feel the need to allow them to settle before committing them to writing. The photgraph below shows my hairpiece but not the full effect of my transformation. Fly On returning from breakfast, a birthday celebration at The Greyhound, I returned to my rooms to discover only one fly extant. Mistress Lock was also at breakfast. She informed us that she had many interesting photographs of "Gimp" and some video which I look forward to seeing soon. Post prandial exhaustion has put me in my bed again. ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Sunday, 16 May 2010 The Gimp Yesterday, made up in my sailor suit and wig, a sort of grey mist overcame me as I assumed the persona of The Gimp. Admittedly this was partly because I had decided not to wear my glasses. This removal of the visual dislocated me, I could not fully connect with the 'real'. People's reactions either did not register or were blurred to a point that they did not affect me. I became undead, a sort of phantom. It was all a little disturbing. As the Gimp I'm not sure all of what I did and I fervently hope I will not be brought to book for my actions. Weirdly I am also simultaneously nagged with fear that I failed to do my job well, that I was unbearably hammy. Later, after these surreal shennanigans, several of us retired to a nearby field to play with fireworks My final Launch, a day after the Americans sent their final shuttle into space, went off with only partial success. So far either the broadcast has gone out and the rocket has failed or the rocket has launched and the broadcast failed. However this and the ridiculous scale of my rockets both seem to have become the leitmotif of the project. Both of my attempts on this last day flew but failed to broadcast.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 18 May 2010 Where to begin? Last night my companion and I watched a strange film. "The Informant" had somehow passed me by when on general release but we liked the cover on the DVD and had seen good Steven Soderbergh films in the past. The film seemed listless and unbelievable at first, lacking in dramatic tension. We enjoyed Matt Damon's endless internal ramblings (my companion especially failing to spot that they were a little unusual). As the awkward unhomely atmosphere continued however, the plot, the truth and Mr Damon's character began to unravel. Nothing seemed to be true. Lie was piled upon lie. As I have mentioned before I am also reading the purported diaries of Abraham Lincoln (vampire slayer) a happy nonsense of a book although a little research has revealed a mote of truth in the characterisation of confederate troops as unearthly creatures. A contemporary account describes them as follows:"Then arose that do-or-die expression, that maniacal maelstrom of sound; that penetrating, rasping, shrieking, blood-curdling noise that could be heard for miles and whose volume reached the heavens-such an expression as never yet came from the throats of sane men, but from men whom the seething blast of an imaginary hell would not check while the sound lasted." -Colonel Keller Anderson of Kentucky's Orphan Brigade.Paul Becker's thinly veiled "False Testimonies", the persona of the Gimp, my own 'live' rocket launches, the cat called pig, this internal monologue, my 'real' life, where lies the truth? I know not.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Wednesday Apparently in his introduction to "Einstein's Mistakes, The Human Failings of Genius" the author blames Einstein for Donald Crowhurst's descent into madness. The blackness awaits us all, it needs only the slightest excuse. Our conveyance is swooping drunkenly around the roundabouts and sliproads that mark the beginning of the journey to London. It's driver, a tall man with a long brown beard, bald head and beetling brows, says little but handles the coach with preternatural skill. For the first tome in weeks it is a most perfect warm spring morning the green is shining and I am texting sweet blandishments to my beloved. I am travelling on what is to be the last student trip of the year. It is likely that, upon our arrival the young scholars will soon melt into backstreets and we, the staff, will be left to our own devices.   Later the same day  I am constantly amazed at both the lack of urgency and lack of remorse displayed by young people today. Yet again we were forced to make the coaches wait for late students who, when they finally shambled up, did not even offer an apology. I firmly believe there is no excuse for such carelessness. Apart from this, the day went tolerably well and whilst I did not manage to see a single exhibition on my itinerary, I did take in some interesting work at the Jerwood Space and Whitechapel Galleries. However, I can write no more. The driver in an effort to make up time has given his coach wings. Unfortunately we are flying much as one would expect a coach to fly.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Thursday Today's itinerary involves a trip to Southend via Chelmsford. My companion and I are picking up a table purchased on eBay and then going on to finally view the Tap gallery where we are both to have solo shows in the near future. Before we can do this we must divest my companion's car of it's current load; a Heal's chest of drawers with considerably more wood in it than is healthy for sinew or back. Later I Alex Pearl hereby avow and attest that I shall never drive through the towns of Southend or Chelmsford again.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Buzzes My new lodgings are much the nicest place I have lived for many years. However we do suffer somewhat from the noise of passing buses. There is some sort of acoustical concatenation at work here that serves to magnify the sound to a roar equivalent to a taxiing jumbo. Last night my companion and I watched A young John Lennon's bus riding antics with amazement whilst enjoying a fully immersive surround sound experience provided by the number 47. Many of the films we have watched recently have been punctuated by compananion's question "what did he say" leasing me to think that I must acquire a timetable as soon as possible. Thus armed I will be able to perfectly time the beginning of our viewing and factor in tea breaks at appropriate intervals. I am fiercely determined that this aphotic force will not impinge on our new lives. Yesterday the flies returned. They seem to love the bedroom and whenever the window has been left open I invariably return to find as many as ten gambolling around the stars. It has been seasonably warm at last, my need for fresh air has outweighed my dislike for these meanest of creatures. This said they are small, reasonably inoffensive and soon slain. Luncheon My companion and I dined at The Museum Street Café a delightful little eaterie serving fine vegetarian fayre to the Guardian reading Buddhists of Ipswich. We have never been disappointed by the welcome or the lavish dishes served up by it proprietors Mark and Nell. We were especially looking forward to a bloodless meal as my companion has, of late, experienced a number of rather hematic dreams. The latest involved a colony of large blood sucking toads which sank their fangs into her décolletage. Perversely we opted for the richly Catholic mushroom and red wine cobbler and chatted to Mark about the reopening of the local cinema. He seemed in very good humour although he had apparently cut himself shaving and was sporting a small plaster on his neck.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Monday, 24 May 2010 The Fall Before the Miracle I know what it is to feel the blood drain from one's face. Today I felt real fear. A quiet moment at work had resulted in a few moments of online dalliance. I had decided to investigate my bolus of Internet links, checking they still functioned appropriately and led to no dead ends. Whilst performing this idle act of distraction I came across, unsurprisingly, the website of the Whitstable Biennale. At first I was very excited as the site had been renewed, reborn in it's 2010 plummage. But then fear overcame me, an irrational primal fear. I feared firstly that I had been excised from the whole event, lanced, expunged. Then upon discovering that was not the case another fear quickly overtook me, fear of inadequacy, fear that my offerings would not stand up to scrutiny. Perhaps I should gave sone more, perhaps I could have done it better. I felt cold, dizzy, sick to my stomach as I abruptly turned off the computer and went in search of consolation. The reader might assume at this point that I am looking for reassurance, fishing for compliments but in point of fact all I am hoping to express is that utter terror of being found wanting. In my current reading "False Testimonies" Paul Becker presents a series of "Miracles" micro-stories in which things are brought back to life. In one tale (of the redemption of a tortured man) he uses a device of narrative reversal which brings the protagonist (and reader) from terror to a state of happiness. We first encounter the man shackled in a cell in agonising pain but soon his saviours enter, take him down and place him on a machine which relocates his shoulders and ankles. Then they remove his bruises and unbreak his limbs with magical batons. Finally he is driven back to his home where his family welcome his return. For a while this morning I too craved this miracle, to be returned to that toiletless café in London's East End. But now I am in my cups and little matters so much as stroking Mr Pig and drinking a companionly cup of tea.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 25 May 2010 Release I received a press release in this morning's email. It detailed the work commissioned for Whitstable. "Damnation" I exclaimed (or something similar) "Adam Chodzko's work has the same title as mine!" (bar the addition of an 's' this is true - and although of little importance I still wish I had called mine something more original). This aside, yet again I must admit to feeling like the poor cousin in the lineup. I think I will always suffer this way, it is inescapable. Not long ago, in a group show in King's Lynn, I was the only 'local' amongst a coven of sharply and darkly dressed, pale and youthful London Arts graduates. I was mesmerised by the influence of their collective self assurance and instantly assumed the role of their brown coated minion. Within minutes I was, at least metaphorically, tugging my forelock and gladly performing any number of obeisant tasks. At one stage I believe I even began to drag a limb. To this day I have failed to discover a suitable phylactery against such power. My responses in such matter are disorderly to the point of insanity. I must discipline my emotions. The press release is delightful and I was planning to instantly forward it's flatteries to all and sundry. Unfortunately my email programme scrambled image and text to such an extent that I will have to spend a little time reconstructing it for general release. continues on http://thepearlfisher.blogspot.com... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Wednesday, 26 May 2010 Alarums   My phone has just jolted me awake. It says "talk". At first I thought it was a message from my companion suggesting I rise from my post-work grave. But no! it was a timely reminder that tomorrow I must once again set forth to talk about my work and career. This time I am returning to Stoke-on-Trent where Messrs Bethell and Branscombe, proprietors of Airspace, have invited me to talk about my work and how I have built relationships with galleries and comissioners. I am speaking at one but hope to arrive earlier. Unfortunately this will entail catching a seven o'clock train which fortunately will give me plenty of time to decide what to say. The press release for the event described me (optimistically I thought) as an example of best practice in this field. I shall endeavor to be as interesting as possible but, failing that, I have put together a DVD of such length that if I leave it playing there will be no time for talk.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The man next to me has preternaturally long feet, or at least shoes. I am seated in the genteel and unattended village station of Prestbury waiting for a slow carriage to Stoke on Trent. The Virgin Pendelino has just sped through dragging my stomach with it and I am tired, so tired. The day started well with a brisk ride (on the Phantom) from my lodgings to the station in Ipswich where I was to catch an early train to London and thence onward to Airspace. I had my talk ready and was prepared to give of my wisdom to the no doubt eager audience that awaited me. The journey to London was uneventful and the rush hour crush neither too uncomfortable nor overly erotic. Soon I was seated on the express train to Manchester going over PowerPoint and practising seamless shifting between applications. The high speed journey was over before ennui set in. Upon my arrival, the walk from station was blessed with a pale sunshine which removed the worse of the chill from the air. Admittedly the walk seemed longer than it had last year but I am older (and heavier) than I was then. As I arrived Mr Bethell greeted me on the gallery steps and said. "the talk is on Saturday".Continued at http://thepearlfisher.blogspot.com... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Thursday, 27 May 2010 Part 2 Despite my repeated assertions Mr Bethell was not kidding, nor was he joking. Somehow I had got the wrong day. Suddenly my "best practice" badge seemed somewhat tarnished. Both Mr Brascombe (who had by now joined us) and Mr Bethell were extremely sorry for my mistake plying me first with tea and then alcohol. So kind were they, that, despite my rapidly weakening protestations, they even reimbursed my train fare. While I recovered my wits we discussed the fortunes of the gallery which seem to have ebbed and flowed with the phases of the moon. Generably though they seemed to be doing tolerably well though it was typical they told me they had received a sizeable Arts Council grant to go to this year's Zoo only to have the organisers cancel the fair.After a largely liquid lunch we parted in good heart promising to meet again in two days. I had decided to make the most of my error by making a visit to my elderly parents who I had not seen in a fair while. My mother's first words as I crossed the threshold were "Oh you've got a bit of a tummy".... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Saturday, 29 May 2010 Return from the north From Stoke by train the speedy pan of slate grey and rich blue green reminds me of an El Greco painting of an approaching storm. I am writing the thoughts of an inebriate fearing what realisation the cold morning light will bring. Mr Bethell and friends rounded my presentation with a visit to another local hostelry (actually the same hostelry as we visited on Thursday). The drinks taken there have only served to revivify those imbibed at yesterday's impromtu beer festival and Thursday's consolatory meal. Still, the train travels swiftly and smoothly south. Earlier at Airspace I showed part of "Call" to the assembly hoping to allay my fears. It seemed to go down reasonably well though it did seem markedly different to the other works. Mr Bown's dauntless struggle to engage the ladies of the bingo club came to the fore. To me he again appeared more like a flawed hero than my original conception as vampiric villain. This pleased me and reminded me of something Christopher Lee said about the character of Dracula something to do with his vulnerability and pathos. The exact words have slipped away.My loss of memory described above is not wholly due to my intoxicated state. Nor an attempt at a sort of romantic narrative fade. But rather the result of constant interruption. My dear companion is sending such frequent messages that she is causing my phone to crash repeatedly and my temple to throb with an embollistic intensity. Even now I am typing through clenched teeth. I believe she was a Bengal cat in another life, but I do love her dearly.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Sunday, 30 May 2010 A warning Upon my return from the north I found myself in a condition of extreme exhaustion. It was close to midnight when I finally crept into bed. I craved no more than easeful rest. Unfortunately in inverse proportion to my ennervation my companion seemed full of life. She talked and fidgetted, bounced and laughed until I was so desperate I held her still, her wrists shackled in one hand, her hair clutched in the other. This did not help. In quieter moments my companion sings to me at night. Although she often forgets the words they are beautiful stories of cowboys and lost love. One of my favourites is "Lydia the tatooed lady" a woman who, when the words come to mind, ends up marrying an Admiral who loves the ships afloat on her hips. This morning I read news of the world's most tatooed lady Julia Gnuse. According to reports she is 95% covered in ink and first decided to go under the needle in order to hide scars from porphyria cutanea tarda. I remembered from my reading that it had been suggested that Porphyria was a disease thought to be linked to vampirism. Vlad III the Impaler himself believed to be an antecedent of the Dracula character was also said to had suffered from Acute Porphyria a condition causing extreme sensitivity to sunlight.My google erudition has also led me (after many years) to a rereading of Browning's poem "Porphyria's Lover" transcribed below. I feel it needs little comment.The rain set early in tonight,The sullen wind was soon awake,It tore the elm-tops down for spite,And did its worst to vex the lake:I listened with heart fit to break.When glided in Porphyria; straightShe shut the cold out and the storm,And kneeled and made the cheerless grateBlaze up, and all the cottage warm;Which done, she rose, and from her formWithdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,And laid her soiled gloves by, untiedHer hat and let the damp hair fall,And, last, she sat down by my sideAnd called me. When no voice replied,She put my arm about her waist,And made her smooth white shoulder bare,And all her yellow hair displaced,And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair,Murmuring how she loved me - sheToo weak, for all her heart's endeavor,To set its struggling passion freeFrom pride, and vainer ties dissever,And give herself to me forever.But passion sometimes would prevail,Nor could tonight's gay feast restrainA sudden thought of one so paleFor love of her, and all in vain:So, she was come through wind and rain.Be sure I looked up at her eyesHappy and proud; at last I knewPorphyria worshiped me: surpriseMade my heart swell, and still it grewWhile I debated what to do.That moment she was mine, mine, fair,Perfectly pure and good: I foundA thing to do, and all her hairIn one long yellow string I woundThree times her little throat around,And strangled her. No pain felt she;I am quite sure she felt no pain.As a shut bud that holds a bee,I warily oped her lids: againLaughed the blue eyes without a stain.And I untightened next the tressAbout her neck; her cheek once moreBlushed bright beneath my burning kiss:I propped her head up as before,Only, this time my shoulder boreHer head, which droops upon it still:The smiling rosy little head,So glad it has its utmost will,That all it scorned at once is fled,And I, its love, am gained instead!Porphyria's love: she guessed not howHer darling one wish would be heard.And thus we sit together now,And all night long we have not stirred,... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 It has come to a point where preparations must be made. Numerous requests are arriving from the Biennale team. Mainly they are to do with publicity and the low resolution of my images. It is a perennial problem as screen shots from my video work never seem to be enough for print. I constantly tell myself I must take documentary photographs but my memory was never good. I have recently sought to correct this laxity by purchasing a new high definition video camera which also takes decent still images. I did think perhaps I should have done this before filming 'Call' but on first trying the camera I find the image cold and unfriendly. Nevertheless I have put aside my Luddite leanings and yesterday I made a short film of a scrolling starscape. On what must be the hottest day my companion and I are dragging our tired limbs around the east end galleries. Truthfully we are sitting in the Café Hurwundeki knitting and watching an artist talk about himself. He has managed a quarter of an hour without breath and is now holding forth on how difficult it is when someone one doesn't like is a fan of one's work. We are waiting for Monika Bobinska who has been desperate for me to take back my work for some time now. I had been putting off it's collection on no particular pretext other than an unwillingness to drag a wheeled case across London. We have seen a couple of shows. Neither of us have been particularly thrilled however and we had to leave Cell Project space in haste when my companion had a fit of the vapours. She is in a strange state of mind at the moment, nervous and distracted. That eminent artist, not put off by her Parisian avoidance tactics, is now frantic to meet her and I assume paint her. He has sent a message via an intermediary stating he is willing to "pay over the odds" for the pleasure.  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Thursday, 3 June 2010 Homewards on the Ipswich Flyer We are travelling back to Ipswich 3rd class. A necessity brought on by overcrowding on the 7o'clock train. Both my companion (who is knitting a rather bad scarf) and I are perspiring slightly after being forced to run a brisk 400 yards past all the (empty) first class carriages. Monika passed over a large wheeled case at the café. Business done we had a pleasant chat about cats, holidays and the next series of shows to be held at her gallery on Cambridge Heath Road "Stardust Boogie Woogie". Following this we made a brief visit to an art suppliers and then went on to see Rachel Harrison's exhibition at the Whitechapel. Upon entering we were accosted by a gang of hired barkeeps who insisted we drink bourbon. I do not know if this was meant to improve our experience but to my mind the installation of colourful anthills and tat was joyful enough not to need any artificial enhancement.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Sickness Ebb tide in appetite- cannot eat, cannot sleep, diary is all that is left to me. My companion and I have been struck down with an ague or is it a pox? I know no more than we make frequent, and lately unproductive, visits to the bathroom while feeling vague and listless. A bath is drawn next door but neither feels the inclination to take it. Outside the town's revelry has begun with the usual shouts, catcalls and musical abrasions that punctuate a Friday night in the centre of Ipswich. My companion, more productive than I, is replying to letters from siblings. She as a large number, sisters all, of which I have met three.Gutteral cackling in the street below, low and menacing.In my weakened state I am finding concentration difficult. Unable to settle to any task I have left letters unanswered, emails unread. Earlier I set down a list of 'things to do' but with little conviction. Not on the list were the vexed issue of my sideburns. I have decided to apply a little rigour to them for my visit to the opening weekend of the biennale. I have determined that the best course of action is to choose an image from one of Mr Cushing's vampire films and to scientifically and painstakingly reproduce his sideburns in living bristle. Perhaps I have said this before?Trot of heels, steady and regular. Some time later. Deleria Fire ants swarm over my body. Deep in the left ear something dark and heavy broods. My companion is raving. She thinks we may be haemophiliacs but I think she means hypochondriacs.She is recalling a haemophiliac boy at her school with blood red hair. He used to stab his hand with a compass to avoid geography tests.Heavy beat from a passing carMust sleep... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Yours Testily Hi Alex,I'm afraid the designers still aren't happy with this size, they really need something to the spec below. Do you think it is possible to get this to us as soon as you can? Our deadline for getting all the images together is this weekend - apologies for the urgency.BestKateI am exhausted. Lethargy holds me gently on the sofa I only attempt to break her grasp when I can hold on to my bowels no longer. The illness which beset both myself and my dear companion last night lingers, a deadly sweat was upon us all last night. We both feel drained and listless. The above email found me in poor humour this morning. The image I had sent was admittedly only a mere 72dpi but was nearly a metre wide which I thought would do. Stubbornly I resized it to A6 at a higher dpi and testily sent it back with a message suggesting that any graphic designer worth his or her salt could do this for themselves. I fully expect it to be printed upside down with a secret message stating my resemblance to the rear end of a horse. This would not upset me but I do hope I did not upset Miss Phillimore.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Saturday, 5 June 2010 An Apology Wracked with guilt I have written an apology to Miss Phillimore. "Dear Miss PhillimoreI am writing to apologise for my somewhat grumpy reply earlier. My only excuse, and it is a poor one, is that I am suffering from a rare form of dysentery at the moment with concomitant sleeplessness. If the new image is no good I can borrow a friend's camera tonight and fake something suitable. Yours sincerely Mr Pearl esq"As I was transcribing the above email a seagull cruised sharklike past the window. We are at such a height here as to be level with that bird's most common flightpath. It is disconcerting to be eye to yellow eye with such a beast.  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Sunday, 6 June 2010 Forebodings The weather is closing in. Dark thunder clouds propelled by a sudden evil wind have darkened the sky over Ipswich. My companion is huddled nervously next to me fearful in the expectation lightning. Earlier she kindly acted as my portrait photographer. A profile shot was needed in order that I might match my sideburns with Mr Cushing's. I selected the Van Helsing incarnation from "Dracula 1972 AD" a crazy film which somehow struck a chord. My image looked so pale and bloated in comparison to the eminent actor I was forced to consider some exercise and to do some editing before it could be published here. The ProcessI marked up the position of Van Helsing's sideburns, noting as best I could their length width and angle. Then I superimposed my own image and marked the corresponding measurements on my face. Finally I removed Van Helsing to reveal my pasty visage.I have just received a message from Miss Phillimore, the designers are happy with my resizing efforts, all is well.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Monday, 7 June 2010 A Shock The storm has arrived all is grey blue. A thunderous cannonade sounds above. Some minutes ago I discovered a message from Sue Jones in my work email. I have transcribed a part of it below:"We have had to change our plans with the Royal British Legion, due to the extremely complicated licensing laws. We will only be able to show the work on Saturday 19 and Sunday 20 June. We could move the work - but my view is that there isn't a suitably place and we'd end up compromising the work by moving it around. I think the short showing will work fine in the context of the Biennale, where works are anyway shown for very different length of time.""Call" has fast become my favourite piece made for Whitstable and while I agree it would be silly to turn it into an itinerant beggar, I am sad that it shall be so fleeting in it's appearance. Although maybe it is somehow in keeping with the sublunary nature of much of my work.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 8 June 2010Email received late Monday evening:"Hi AlexWe will need DVD's of your work. At the moment we only have a Showreel which was great for showing to the British Legion but we need:Caller (sic) on two DVD's, one of the Caller and one of the players, so we show it on two monitors from two DVD playersGhost, the three pieces shown from 1 DVD consecutivelyAll three looped and in DVD PAL format"Happily I was well prepared for this eventuallity and had only to package the DVDs in protective wrapping ready for the following day's post. The communication arrived while we were watching "Charade" a film I had seen previously but, like so many things, could not quite remember how it went. As such the experience was one of repeated mild revelations as twists came to me just before they were revlealed. As the title suggests there was a deal of pretence in the film, storytelling which the slightly blank Miss Hepburn always fell for. I most enjoyed the settings. The opening scene: a ski resort with snowy mountains (sometimes projected), Hepburn dressed head to toe in black masked with huge sunglasses seated in front of reflecting glass only partially concealing swimsuited blondes behind. The empty apartment: stripped by our heroine's now dead husband. The rooftop: site of the struggle with the claw handed man. It's giant lit sign smashed in the fight. Cary Grant's tiny office where all is revealed, a proposal is made and love declared in four parts.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 "The Antwerp Papers" 13 posts including nocturnal visitors and ladies with pointy teeth now available at http://thepearlfisher.blogspot.com  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 A few days ago I was delighted to find this (below) in my inbox. Actually what I found was a jumble of images and words which I have painstakingly restored to what I hope was it's original state.INVITATIONYou are invited to attend the opening of the 5TH WHITSTABLE BIENNALE 2010The 5th Whitstable Biennale will open on Saturday 19 June 2010 on Whitstable's main beach at 12 noon. The Biennale has commissioned major new works, all of which explore different aspects of performance and film. For two weeks the seaside town of Whitstable will be transformed into a centre for contemporary art.See the Whitstable Biennale 2010 calendar online for the main festival programme.Special performances and talks on Saturday June 19 2010:12.00-13.00Main launch on the beach, with Whitstable Brewery Ale, at the Biennale HQ next to the Royal Native Oyster Stores, Horsebridge Rd CT5 1BU.14.15-15.45UR-NOW: The Ruins of the ContemporaryTalk at the Sea Cadets Hall by Brian Dillon with some of theartists from the film programme he has curated for this year's festival16.00-16.4567 Made in HeavenLuciennne Cole choreographs a performance at the Oxford Bingo Hall17.00-18.00Social History and Telling TalesKaren Mirza & Ruth Beale host a screening of vintage films with local historian and collector Tony Blake at the Sea Cadets HallWhitstable Biennale full programme details : http://whitstablebiennale.com... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Monday, 14 June 2010 In my bath Lying in my bath, my companion washing my hair. I thought I would like to write something about having a thought at that moment, a sort of eureka. I thought it could form some sort of moment of realisation such as when Van Helsing's eyes fall on the closed curtains in Castle Dracula. However, lying in my bath, I soon realised I would not have such a thought and without the thought there was not much point in writing about the moment.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Back in Ipswich and the everyday toil of work. Chance to go through my emails and specifically to deal with a request from the redoubtable Mr Bracey who had sent me the following message clearly typed in haste."hi Alex,hope all is well and Wynstable is all going well.just thought i would say that i am really pleased you are all booked in for august, i am gettign really excited about you coming.I was also wondering if you were planning on keeping one of your famous blogs when you are up. I ahve jsut had a meeting with AND festival adn they are keen on there being some form of 'viral' type things that lead up to the festival adn i thought of your blogs without mentioning it at the meeting of course!).also i am not sure if you know but we have a definte title for the show it is nowUnSpooling - artists &cinemabest wishes,Andrew"I had, only a day before, been speaking to my companion of my desire to never write another blog again. I replied in the affirmative suggesting the title "Never Say Never Again"... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 Tuesday, 15 June 2010 Undead! "Baudelaire did not come to Brussels until 1864, when he was already ruined, financially and physically. He was miserably poor. His work had failed to gain proper recognition... His publisher had gone bankrupt. He was slowly dying of syphilis." Christopher Isherwood, September, 1946I have just finished reading "My Heart Laid Bare" Baudelaire's writings during his, seemingly miserable stay in Brussels. He reveals himself somewhat as a nineteenth century Jeremy Clarkson perhaps with a dash of Sean Connery thrown in. Quite often he admonishes himself for lack of work. It is in the throes of this sentiment that I feel more kinship with the man (rather than the women thrashing and Belgian hating). I really must apply myself more diligently. More than four films lie half done on camera or computer. Hundreds of little gold dying spacemen are yet to appear, and in truth may never appear. I am also as yet (still?) undecided what to show in Southend and I am barely beginning to think about my forthcoming residency in August. I fear I will not attain the crypt before sunset! Or is it sunrise? It all depends on one's perspective.... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434 The Pearl Fisher is complete. The last ten posts which include a description of my experiences at the Whitstable Biennale (apart from one which mysteriously disappeared) are available now at http://thepearlfisher.blogspot.com A complete transcript with some bonus material will soon be published in novella form. (well, within a year)   Thanks for reading and a special thanks for everyone who put up with my exagerations slurs and downright lies.  ... Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/546434