ARTISTS TALKING

# 21 [8 June 2009]

(8th June continued)

I had a tutorial with Louise Wilson when both she and Jane gave a talk through the visiting lecturers programme at uni recently. The main issue that came out from this, is to have a much clearer idea of where I'm positioning myself in a wider context, both within the visual arts arena, but also wider than that, to a larger cultural context. I've been reading some essays about Ann Hamilton and Mary Kelly at Louise's suggestion, and I've also ordered copies of The Everyday and Appropriation, part of the Whitechaple's Documents of Contemporary Art series. Stephen Johnstone's introductory essay in The Everyday is relevant to some of my thinking: quoting Rebecca J. DeRoo, he writes that ‘the everyday might be the common ground of experience that allows museum visitors to "understand the effects of history on the private lives of those who were usually overlooked"'. The photographs I've been accumulating have this personal, yet generic quality about them, yet due to their age, there is also this feeling of exoticism. So they have this contradiction of being something everyday from a particular period of time, yet because this time period is in the past, from a contemporary point of view they are special, something unique and different from our present-day notions of an everyday photographic image. More contradictions in my practice again.

I'm attaching an image of a ‘dress'-trace to this post. I've taken apart this item of clothing, reconstructed it from an old net curtain I found in a charity shop, then sprayed car paint though it, so the image is left on floor. The car paint is the wrong material (suggests something quite industrial and manual, even though I am very particular about the shades of spray paint I use, so they have to all be mixed up specially for me at Halfords), but I quite like the effect on the floor. More pondering required though, I think.

# 22 [8 June 2009]

Given the events last night's European elections, the admittance of two BNP candidates and the feeling of a general swing to the far right across Europe (at least in terms of those elected), today I've been thinking more about if there's a way of my politics having a more direct, or conscious influence on my work. Although I'm very politically minded and aware of current affairs, I've avoided a direct reference to specific issues in my practice, as I don't think that the way I make art is the best format for these types of discussions. However, I'm beginning to wonder if by thinking about these issues consciously, they could have an influence on my work, even if the results are still a visual layering of ideas, suggestions, my way of thinking...

(continues)

# 23 [26 July 2009]

(continued)

I made the plaster pillow by literally filling a pillow case with casting plaster, then resting my head on it which it hardened. (I also tried mixing some of my hair into the plaster, but I need to work on the technique here - my friend Jennie who was helping me just ending up with plastery-hairy hands). It seemed to have the potential to be such a personal and potentially private experience, that something was maybe missing by doing this act in the studio space. So I'm intending to make another one, but doing it at home, by myself, in my bed. The plaster would then take up the shape of the mattress, as well as my head - it also seems to make sense to do this whilst wearing one of the négligé-dresses. It would effectively be a private performance, but I don't think I want to record it - that would make it a performance for the camera, rather than for how wearing that clothing, in that environment would affect the end result.

I haven't had time to read much recently, as I'm been making a concerted effort to think-make rather than read-think which is what I can so easily get caught up in. We did just have a short break in the Lake District, during which I got to finish W. G. Sebald's Austerlitz. It's written without any paragraphs or speech-marks to indicate which character is speaking, the result being that you sort of flow along this continuous narrative, one section blending seamlessly into the next... I'd like this installation I'm working on to flow like that.

# 24 [26 July 2009]

I'm really not sure where to begin with this post. There's so much going through my head at the moment that I'm finding it even more difficult than usual to keep track of everything. The main thing is that I'll be showing during the MFA exhibition at the end of August, so working towards this is occupying my thoughts through all of my waking hours, and if last night's dreams were anything to go by, into my sleeping hours too. What I'm doing is making sense at the moment, and I really love intense, crazy work - but I'm also looking forward to the reflective bit once the exhibition is up, so I can clearly see where to go next, rather purely planning the most appropriate order in which to 'finish' the work I need to. See www.newcastlemfashow.co.uk for more details about the exhibition (preview August 21^st, runs for two weeks after that).

The weekend has been spent making mould parts for a cast of a cut-glass jar and lid that I'm intending to make from slip-cast porcelain, whilst also working out a way to use cheap art-school temporary walls in a way that doesn't disguise what they are (as that could be a bit fake and theatrical) but at the same time pushes them beyond this base. At the moment, the idea is lining paper, so I can reference a domestic interior, without being overt about, but paint the paper brilliant white, so I've still got a gallery reference.

I'm splitting the space up into an entrance or 'ante' space, which feels pristine and clean. Maybe like a porch. This leads into a space which suggests a wider, more spacious space, but still something to travel through. I'm planning on printing the photograph of the library window onto a personal and handwritten letter from the market, which appears to be in the wall. (I need to learn how to plaster quite quickly). The porcelain jar will probably be here somewhere. The next space will imply a living area, which is where I'll put the drawer and the tin with its dirt (see the attached photos). I'm going to add some sliver-leaf to the dirt as a reference to the found photographs which I'll no longer be using. I think the absence of them is stronger than them being there is reference absence. Around the corner (an incomplete wall which suggests that it may have been longer at one point) will be the plaster pillow. The pristine-ness of the space won't quite be there by this point - it won't be obvious, but it won't quite be as clean, as sharp, there'll be something different.

So that's the plan. Or at least the idea as it is at the moment. I'm still trying not to over-plan, but work through each making process.

(continues)

# 25 [2 August 2009]

I worked out the other morning, that if I just paint the lining paper back to the art-school-come-gallery brilliant white it's not going to be enough of a shift. So, I'm going with shades of white, taken from some of the paper-based items I've collected. I also don't think it's going to work if it's all just lining paper, it could all just be too little - not so much subtle, as nothing. I think that a touch of pattern might be required, so I'll see next week if it's possible to paper Anaglypta the wrong way round, so that the pattern appears like it's going into the wall.

The mould of the jar is finished - just need to wait for it to dry out completely before pouring the slip. I want to get to terms with the photograph next week, before finishing off the walls and wallpapering at the weekend.  

# 26 [14 August 2009]

So, should the floor be painted another colour or not? It's the standard art-school-grey at the moment, but is to paint it a completely different colour going to be taking the entire installation down the theatrical route? If the colour is referencing a floor colour which could / has been used in a domestic environment going to be not so much shifting the space, as attempting to make it into something else? So a different shade of grey?

I'm a little concerned that the shades of white that I'm using might be so, well, white, that there won't be much of a distinguishable difference between them. And it's also been brought to my attention that the photograph printed on the reclaimed letter is a little too black and white, where perhaps a bit more subtlety involving grey might have been preferable. It's also going to be a bit tricky trying to make this appear as if it's in the wall in a gentle way - I've had to bench the plaster idea, as I realised that I really wouldn't have time to learn how to plaster properly, and the finished result would most likely look like I hadn't had much time to learn how to plaster properly. So the photograph is behind the lining paper, and idea is to rub / sand the paper away, and perhaps involve a little silver-leaf somewhere along the lines.

I've also realised that I'm thinking of these ideas in terms of something 'finished' again - an easy trap to fall into I think, when preparing for a public exhibition. However, part of my original philosophy in approaching this particular exhibition was to try and think of the work / works in terms of ideas in progress, thoughts and suggestions. Perhaps I need to be thinking in terms of this again....

I'm going to find out about different shades of grey paint tomorrow.

# 27 [1 September 2009]

So here are some initial installation shots from my interim exhibition. I hadn't though in terms of a title for it before now, but retrospectively it makes sense to call it Shift. It's pretty difficult to document due to the shape and size of the space, but also due to the subtly of colour and the manner in which is changes depending on the time of day and the amount of sun shining through the glass panels in the ceiling.

The colour for the floor became a bit of a mission in the end. I went with grey-shift idea, but the colour I chose turned out to have a lot more pink in than I was expecting. That, combined with the different shades of white on the walls gave quite a head-f**k in early morning light. Okay, so this was interesting, but it was taking the installation somewhere else, which I wasn't sure about. It also seemed to make the floor-based work less substantial, less there somehow. It was only after a day of debating this, and also trying out a much more grey-grey, that I saw how it worked in evening light. The pinkness became a more subtle grey-brownness which shifted the space in a softer way, and worked with the floor pieces.

I think the photograph piece needs some more work. It feels a little unrefined now, in comparison with the other pieces. The wallpaper covering rips away a bit too easily, so it reveals the image too easily and too much of it. I'm also wondering if a letter is the best support - it's beginning to feel a bit too literal; not just in the sense that there's writing involved (it's a personal letter written in the 1930's I picked up at a market) but perhaps there might be softer ways to make the references? I went on a tour of Tyne and Wear Museum's archives a few months back, and got rather fascinated with how the conservators repair velum manuscripts with sausage skin and a starch glue, so I've been thinking about how this might work with a photograph printed on it. I'm also beginning to do some research about making my own photographic emulation, or at least using a silver based powder or solution to take some more control over this process. Or perhaps I could print onto silver leaf, or imbed the support with it somehow, so the image doesn't appear too fixed, so static?

# 28 [6 September 2009]

I spent Friday and Saturday at the NOTES on a Return symposium at the Laing Gallery. This two-day event rounded off a series of artist talks and new commissions in relation a number of artist performances which took place at the Laing during the mid-eighties. Whilst I've not worked with performance, what interested me about this event was the discussion surrounding documentation, memory and the archive in this case related to performance-based practice.

The conversations and presentations were pretty wide ranging, but what struck me most was how a lot of the issues raised could be applied beyond live art - the most relevant area to my work being issues surrounding the affective documentation of a work which relies heavily on the moment and the atmosphere of that particular time and space. This conversation can easily be applied to installation work, and some of the problems I'm encountering at the moment.

Several of us clubbed together to get professional photography of our work, but I'm not sure that in my case it'll be enough. In order to view my work, you need to physically move into, then through and around the space. There's no one place that you can view all the pieces, or indeed see the entirety of the space. So is a series of photographs the best way to explain the piece? All documentation risks become something in its own right - a really good photograph can make something look more interesting than it actually is in reality - but is there a way of enriching / adding to this type of documentation to create a more rounding understanding of an installation?  

I thought about videoing the space, but it seemed a little odd to use a time-based medium to record static works. One of the speakers at the symposium mentioned something quite interesting though - they'd had access to three different accounts of the same performance. Obviously the accounts themselves differed quite considerably in their descriptions and experiences of the event, but they nevertheless added a further depth to the documentation.

Owing to a lack of time (the exhibition has closed now, and I need to de-install in the next couple of days) I'm not going to be able to get three people to write accounts for me, but I thought it would still be something useful that I could do myself. I want to write something using language / in a style that reflects the feeling and content of the work - I'll have a go and post here as regards the success or otherwise.

# 29 [16 September 2009]

Reading back through my text documentation, it still seems to be making sense. Only thing is, I'm not quite sure how to share it - I think the best thing will be to post it up here once I've got the professional photographs back, so that the images put the text in context and vice versa.

The other thing I've been thinking about over the last few days is social networking / blogging and the arts (or more accurately, my practice as an artist and how social networks can show my work to more people). This basically came about from opening a Twitter account a couple of days ago, as it seemed a good idea at the time. Interestingly enough, I then came across some musing along related lines on Fabrica Gallery's blog: http://www.thetangledhedgerow.blogspot.com/ (see the September 8^th and August 19^th posts), which I got to via Twitter. What he says about the 'behind the scenes' bit seems to make sense, I think that's pretty much how most people view their blogs - a more casual, social approach to discussing their practice.

What I have found quite tricky is transferring this more laid-back manner to my website - some things make sense to be formal (statement, cv etc) but I'm attempting to make the commentary about the works a little more informal, as I think it can be more interesting to read then.

Just updated it today, so have a look if you fancy it: www.laurenhealey.co.uk

# 30 [22 December 2009]

I've been taking an inadvertent break from blogging over the last couple of months. I've been doing a lot of reading and writing (I'm in the middle of writing my MA dissertation) and it felt like my head's been full of so many things, that to try and surmise them for this blog wouldn't work. The writing itself is becoming a piece in its own right, beyond the remit of an academic text. It's about trace and absence with the home and it rather apt, as we've just moved house - I'm therefore using our house as a basis to discuss these ideas.  

The move was pretty hectic (to put it mildly) and as a result of not having a kitchen for about 6 weeks, we've been living with my in-laws. The previous owners of our new house were rather attached to their plants - so much so, that a massive ivy was growing up the front and partially covering the bedroom window. It was really sunny on our first morning there, so I photographed the resulting shadows on the curtain from our bed. I think it was the shadows which made me think of Anthony Boswell's work (he's got a couple of blogs on this site).

I've been flicking though The Comfort of Things by Daniel Miller recently (Amazon's 'other people who bought this book also bought these' proving very useful these days). It's basically an anthropological look the interior of people's homes, specifically the objects and things they surround themselves with. The first 'portrait' is about a pensioner called George whose flat is empty - he doesn't have any things. Miller describes that 'there is a violence to such emptiness'. It's really sad because the empty flat effectively reflects the person who occupies it - 'this was a man... waiting for his time on earth to be over, but who at the age of seventy-six had never yet seen his life actually begin. And, worse still, he knew it'.