ARTISTS TALKING

# 77 [20 April 2010]

BYE FOR NOW

I woke up yesterday morning (Monday) at 5am, terrified and with a sense of blind panic at the prospect of another term. People are always saying 'I don't know how you do it with four children', well the truth of the matter is - not very well at times. The thought of the stress of getting everyone to school with the right stuff, getting to clubs on time, making a fairly disastrous attempt at keeping up with homeworks etc, trying not to let people down, fills me with dread. In the end we forgot the violins, were late for fencing, took a 2hr journey to Southampton to refund some clothes only to find I hadn't got my husbands debit card but did manage to take one mysteriously spotty child to the doctors. No studio time as ever.

But today is different. Today I will get some work done. This morning I had to do what turned out to be an excrutiatingly painful task. I am tentatively working on another film and have found the best working structure for me is to gather images and pieces of film etc etc and play about with them much as I do with materials in the studio. What I need for this piece are some short recordings of older women getting their nails painted. Now outside my door on a Tuesday my drive entrance is clogged up with old ladies, parking randomly and in their own endearingly thoughtless way, to get to the shin-dig at the Methodist hall opposite where they have a service, a chin wag, play cards and have lunch. Rich pickings I thought, and they may actually enjoy having someone in for a chat for half an hour or so. So I went over to ask if there were any volunteers. Table after table of rejection. Either they were out every day and far too busy or they just didn't fancy it or, when I sat in Mary's seat by mistake, they were downright hostile. Now I don't mind really, I've worked on many projects with older people and they are my favourite group to work with and  have earned the right to be beligerent. But it was hard work. Oh for a granny or an ancient Aunt I could call on for a favour, our family are somewhat thin on the ground. I wonder how other film makers find their subjects. Being a relatively shy person underneath I hate asking people for their help. In the end I got two, 'Oh alright if no-one else will do it' candidates so alls well in the end. But I'm glad that bit's over.

I realise now that I no longer fit the description at the top of my blog. I have taken up my 'bare bones' and set out on the journey again although I'm not sure how far I've progressed. Either way the first steps have been taken, the funding has come to an  end and I'm tooled up and ready to go. To say goodbye to the support this site provides though would be too scary so a new blog is called for. Unsurprisingly it will be entitled 'Flesh on the Bones'. How far I survive in this landscape when my circumstances all scream that it's impossible is yet to be seen. But if there's one thing that will make me more determined, it's the voice that says it can't be done.

Thankyou for all your support and kind, wise and funny comments - see you on the next blog!

# 76 [7 April 2010]

I'm sure this will seen rather fantastical, but less than a mile from my house on the edge of the village, down a secluded country lane, hidden from view and with only a small wooden sign pointing to the entrance is a sculpture park and (architecturally globally acclaimed) gallery, the sole representative of the  Barbara Hepworth estate. With coach trips of wealthy buyers from London and beyond, and a constant programme of the biggest names in the artworld (Anthony Caros' Millbank Steps, rejected for it's central London position by the Westminster Public Art Advisory Committee, was welcomed here with open arms, and now languishes in the cow field nearby). Famous names seek out this peaceful retreat and the local vicar was once called upon to conduct a private marriage ceremony for one such artist, whose name I promised not to mention but who left a distinct line in the landscape when he went.

All this is weird -huh! When perusing the area of the country for a spot to live my husband returned excitedly rattling on about this place which I took with a pinch of salt but there it is. Strangely straddling the line between being open to the public with a strong schools education programme, while doing it's best not to be found by visitors, it is bizzare indeed. Of course for most of the time life is too busy to remember to drop in, and the quiet comings and goings of Anthony Gormley etc don't actually collide with my life at all but now and then I do.

Today was such a day.

The sculpture park has a kind of love/ hate relationship with children. Now I can understand that, particularly after our first visit when my Mancunian friends descended, and, distracted by our excitment at meeting up again and having access to great art we set off without realising that all our crowd of boys had found my son's armoury of plastic guns (given recklessly at Christmas by my nieces' swiss actor husband, known for his roles in cop movies) and had decided to play cops and robbers around the million pound sculptures.

This was a mistake. I won't go into details.

Anyway, I think five years later, relationships have been restored and as we whizzed past today with a half hour gap in our schedule, and with just one daughter (how much harm can one curly haired girl do) with me, Maeve and I dropped in to catch the latest exhibition. The main gallery had three glorious Gary Hume paintings, hung facing the huge glass windows and visible all over the park. On closer inspection the paint pooled in it's coloured sections, glossy liquid lakes of perfectly still and shamelessly summery pink and yellow, lapping up to the edge of the ajdacent colour, creating a plasticy ridge that was, like the paintings as a whole, somehow deeply satisfying.

Anyhow, time was up and we took off again. Maeve remained mildly unimpressed but sparked up at the prospect of seeing the tree house on the way out.

# 75 [5 April 2010]

Did manage to get to the Helena Almeida show, although it has to be said at break neck speed as my babysitter got the time mixed up and came half an hour late. The show didn't disappoint and you can read my review on the interface section of this site. I met a fellow Salisbury artist there and the two of us mulled over the MA question again, (she also has children), how to obtain equipment (ie. projection, camera, laptop etc) with no funds and the need to fill in gaps in our technical skills etc. etc. We left alas without the very reasonably priced and rather lovely book produced for the show - the coffers are low in both our camps.

The next time we bumped into eachother was on the streets of Salisbury where I was being reprimanded by a Roman centurian. Thousands attended a re-enactment of the Passion through the city streets with hundreds of actors, Roman chariots, burning torches etc and finishing with the Ressurection in the Catherdral. At each stage the bishop narrated the scene with one particularly moving explanation of the importance of the Pieta in art etc with the composition reneacted with actors by torchlight in the cathedral grounds.

The wait on the cathedral floor for the final scene was well worth the sore backside and we momentarily forgot our soggy feet and damp clothes when everyone broke into spontaneous applause at the point of the Resurrection with the choir, I swear,sounding so beautiful it took your breath away.

Anyway, the whole shebang overran in time and alas the chippie was shut but I think even the children felt like this injustice was somewhat superflous in the light of what we had just seen and we went home without complaint.

oh - and the tile adhesive has dried at last so a great Easter all round.

# 74 [30 March 2010]

Cleaned out the studio today - always a good feeling (and a good way to put off work - yet again.) Started the soundtrack to another film but the images to lead into it are giving me some trouble.

I discovered when I had to hone the experience into a talk last week, that making film has  become a really natural extension of my studio work and hasn't been as great a leap as I initially imagined it would be. The same processes continue, gathering materials around me, living with them for some time, letting them move naturally into my work. In film, this translates into gathering sound, photographic images, clips of fim, recorded snippets etc while in the studio it's sketches words, objects and fabrics.

When creating work for an installation, presence has always been as important as absence for me and space becomes an equally integral element, in some cases more so, to work with. I guess I shouldn't be surprised but it seems naturally to have become a significant element when I approach film making as well and seeing how the two dovetail together as far as the making process goes feels right.

Tomorrow night I am desperate to get to the John Hansard gallery talk on Helena Almeida's work in S'Hampton but babysitters are eluding me - still hopeful though.

# 73 [27 March 2010]

The Arts Council report is finished - yeh! The last few lines typed up between listening to three reading homeworks and helping my son produce a three course meal for his scout chef badge - (don't tell anyone but I helped a fair bit - when we got quizzed by the scout tasting team who arrived later we stood like two criminals in the dock - I denied everything and Samuel kept schtum, I think we got away with it!)

Last night was a screening of my 'Night Vision' film among others at Last Friday Shorts at TAP, Southend, curated by Michaela Freeman. After a horrendous drive through the Dartford tunnel - (not a good idea at rush hour on Friday night), I got there in plenty of time.The event was really well put together and I was sorry to have to leave early. An evening of film with three artists talking and open for questions etc.

Michaela contacted me via Axis and, much as I squirm at giving talks, I'm so glad I did. Planning the actual talk and addressing the questions caused me to reflect much more deeply on the process of making the fim than before and drew some really valuable observations out of it. And it only took me half the time to drive back.

Well, apart from the tile adhesive I've used on a permanent piece for Swindon hosptial not drying and it being overdue, all is pretty good. Off to our Scottish/Italian friends for dinner tonight - (the combination is a dangerous one, think the Italians love of red wine with the Scots capacity to put it away - too tempting for an Irish girl.)

# 72 [21 March 2010]

Sometimes things just work out right - not often, but sometimes. A couple of days ago I posted a question in the know how section of the forums, asking a tricky point of copyright query on a song I wanted to use.

Last night we had a couple I've only recently got to know round for dinner and we were discussing what we were up to  etc. I told my copyright predicament as Steve has a connection with programming for film making and discovered that his wife Dawn was a consultant for the BBC, specialising in the copyright law of music used in film etc for most of her career - how jammy was that, so got a reply straight from the horses mouth as it were. Result!

# 71 [19 March 2010]

I think I must be the biggest put-er off-er alive and the best vehicle for putting off work is this damn blog. So here I am with an update, when what I should be doing is working out a fiercely mathematically challenging angle for a frame and continuing with my ACE activity report. So far I have googled Sandra Bullock at the Razzies, gazed hypnotically at the favourites statistics pie chart on Axis, wondering who the hell is on the blue bit and browsed through 174 opportunites, none of which I can apply for without selling the children, giving up any paid work and living off leaves.

Anyhow, writing the ACE report has made me realise what a different place I am in as far as my work is concerned than I was a year and a half ago. With or without the funding, (although of course we would all plump for the with) the process of planning out research and development, furiously focussing on the justification of every detail, and mapping out a schedule for moving forward positively in my practice has been a huge pain in the ass but (and I don't know why I'm surprised) paid off immensely. I now feel I know where I am. I have a really clear concept of the work I want to produce and in a way, it feels like there's a robustly solid directional base to work from. It's good, and it's taught me a strategy to work with in the future.

Anyhow, filmaking is being held up at the moment, partly due to a vist from a little friend - and their millions of siblings. Nits are back, and with four long and curly heads to treat repeatedly for the next few weeks, my carpal tunnel has gone into overdrive, some days it is just so hard to be a parent and an artist. Talking to Cathy Wilkes last year, also a parent of young children, even with the success she has had (Turner prize nomination etc) she too has often thought of throwing in the towel. Some days are just tough and unfortunately, the blog is not only a good put-er off-er, but the first place to head when you want to get it off your chest - I just have one imperitive blogging rule, never after the G&T watershed, that would be fatal!

# 70 [10 March 2010]

Haven't had much time to think about my own work as this week is choca with schools projects. I bundled the children into breakfast club on Monday the minute the doors opened with a quick shout of - 'the gluten free one has had breakfast, the others haven't' to be met with the news that breakfast isn't served on a Monday, oops, kissed all and whizzed off to Swindon to work with the hospital school (making a permanent piece for the children's unit entrance).

As with all hospital projects, the original proposal bears no resemblance to the final work, due to every conceivable material being rejected by infection control/militant fire officer. We finally settled on plaster so there we were, plaster casting in a tiny room, on the ward, with a beautifully carpeted floor which, due to the rigours of health and safety, could not be covered in any shape or form with sheeting, now - that's what I call a challenge.

What a priviledge though, to see one ten year old girl, stroll in in her nightie, clutching her side, with the most reluctant and unhappy expression imaginable on her face, an hour later, up to her elbows, mixing plaster, smiling and totally engrossed in her work and shooing the consultant away, who had come to take her for a scan. To share in an experience with those children, which for a few hours, helped them leave all their difficulties aside, was truly precious, - messy and fun.

Back at my regular school job, we wrestled our 12ft dragon sculpture (on a cold, grey day in Feb we thought, what can we build that will be massive and we can paint wild colours on) onto some sheeting on the carpet and managed to involve 30 children in total to paint it without spilling a drop. On leaving I offered my own children an upgrade on their pocket money for the person that picked up the most bits off the floor. They all went crazy and in her excitement Erin ran over the sheet, covered her shoes in red paint then ran twice around the carpeted room for good measure. Another hour cleaning up and a swift G&T later and I was almost human again.

Back to the studio again tomorrow and a day to myself - yeh!

# 69 [4 March 2010]

I'm not sure how to start this post really, things have kind of changed for me - the end of my ACE R&D time is in view, perhaps I'm letting go of this naturally.

Our crit group met last week,( I say group if you can call it that - we were reduced to two - everyone else was either sick/working etc.)

We trudged through the rain across the decommissioned weapons site, oddly surrounded by quietly, rolling Wiltshire countryside and gazed at the frustatingly un-used empty buildings, perfect for group studio space - (do you ever see a space like that and you literally drool at the potential?).  To set up something like that though, you need to start with a really strong group of local artists - the space you can find if you look hard enough -and so, for the moment it will have to remain simply an idea. I, for one, have other things to focus on.

Laurence and I chatted about her work and the opportunites locally - and how to move forward, perhaps encouraging the nearest organisation (Aspace, Southampton) to move forward on the idea of a crit group would be more fruitful, (we are so few with so many other commitments) - we'll see.

As for me, I've sent off my proposals to the galleries in N.Ireland, I'm itching to get in the studio again, and I've been talking to people, people who have sent me on to other people, and they in turn to others, I've never done so much talking - when all I really want to do is immerse my self in making, and forget the rest.

# 68 [22 February 2010]

Day 2 of my Trip to Northern Ireland

I’d forgotten how fond I am of Belfast. Due to visiting relatives etc, I realized I have probably never walked around \Belfast city alone since I left 25 years ago.I can’t put into words just how it feels to do so after all this time – living with the Troubles was a natural existence for my generation, entering the city checkpoints, standing in line to be frisked, shaking out our umbrellas on front of armed policemen, laughing with the soldiers who boarded our bus to check under our seats for bombs, as a child this was my home, and to me, in my young view,  it was a happy one. In the January sales people were so blasé with bomb scares, they had to be virtually dragged away from the cash desk when there was a bargain at stake, regardless of the soldiers ordering them out. Once peace came, it took us a year at least for people to stop automatically opening their handbags to be searched  in every shop door they entered. Belfast is transformed now, shopping centres, entertainment, resturants, fast on it’s way to being European City of Culture and voted best weekend destination world wide last year. A few reminders of it’s history remain such as the DIY store with it’s gaffa tape advertised as ‘hostage tape.’ Belfast never had lost it’s sense of humour.

My two gallery visits today were really positive and now it’s just a case of going home to give the situation some more thought and prepare proposals etc. All in all, like everytime I return home, it has been an intensely emotional experience for me. As a young artist I held my largest solo show in the Arts Council gallery there, two vast car showrooms, ( the Arts Council gallery relocated more than once through bomb damage), - to go back would be in a sense to complete the circle, and somehow would satisfy something inside.