ARTISTS TALKING

# 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)

# 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.

# 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)

# 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.

# 20 [29 April 2009]

I had a conversation with an artist about a week ago, who said that what I've been referring to as ‘dresses' aren't actually dresses at all, but are more accurately read as négligés. I spent quite a while trying to think of a way of create a dress which didn't have an obvious historical grounding, as I didn't want to limit the work to something in the past. The reason I went with this particular style is because I saw it as something that could have been worn in the past, but also as something that would be worn today. I chose thin, translucent fabric, as I saw this as a way of suggesting fragility; the lace had references to domestic environments, but also clothing. However, as was pointed out, other the obvious reading, (which had kind of skirted across my thoughts, but not really settled into my conscious), was that flimsy fabric, revealing a body (which in this case isn't actually there) has quite apparent sexual undertones. This wasn't what I was aiming for, and obviously brings into play a whole host of other issues (one of which, interestingly enough, is that négligé is the part participle of the French verb négliger, to neglect. The neglected bit I like, but not in direct association with a female body, which could be used to go down an abuse avenue).

So I'm putting the ‘dresses' on hold for a bit, while I explore some other ideas I've been tossing about. Firstly is the idea of casting some domestic objects out of unsympathetic or materials which seem slightly wrong, so that the cosiness, safety and security associated with home is shifted. I'm thinking along the lines of concrete or porcelain. I've also been preparing a range of possible supports for printing photographs of the library onto - brown paper bags, plastic carrier bags, reclaimed letters and bills. The first time I tried this yesterday was a bit of a disaster, as they all pretty much fell apart as soon as they hit the developer, so I've invested in some waterproof PVA and a subbing and hardening solution.

(Continues...)

# 19 [29 April 2009]

(29^th April continued...)

I'm making a concerted effort not to effectively realise my ideas in my head, rather than allowing the making process to also inform the concept and content. I can easily talk my way out of making things, by seeing the idea in my mind, and then working it out on paper. This links back to the problems regarding really well-crafted work which is effectively concept-less, or not making anything at all, because it's been thought about so much. I want to make casts of objects because I like the idea of re-making something pre-existing but having it ‘shift' slightly ( I envision this idea like a something I've seen on a film, when an image is overlaid by a repeat of itself, but it's not quite aligned). The problem is that I've never cast an object before, I don't really understand the processes, and it's getting rather frustrating trying to find out the best way of making a mould so it can do what I want it to.

# 18 [16 April 2009]

This ‘it's been a bit of while since my last post', is getting to feel a little habitual now. This isn't done intentionally exactly, but I do feel that I ought to be writing something interesting if I'm going to write a post, rather than rambling on pointlessly. Also (as usual) I've been rather busy of late, so haven't had so much thinking time.

I spent a couple of weeks working on (for want of a better phrase) a community art project. I normally cringe at the idea of these, picturing murals in primary colours, but the concept behind this was a bit more interesting, hence my getting involved. I was working on what was effectively a small part of a much larger site-specific theatre project. Basically, myself and several other visual artists and theatre practitioners were working in a couple of areas of Tyneside, speaking to residents about their memories of these areas. These collected stories were then used as concepts for the artists to make memory boxes or ‘shrines', which were then displayed in a local hall. These shrines will then be used as part of the outdoor theatre performance event in the summer.

The theatre company work across the UK and parts of Europe on projects like this which involve using local communities and their stories and memories to form part of the event. Local shops, markets, car boot sales and charity shops provide the majority of the materials for making the shrines, as a way of giving back to the community from where the visuals come from.

 (continues...)

# 17 [16 April 2009]

(16th April continued)

I really liked the concepts behind the project, the use of stories and memories, plus the collection and use of second-hand materials, as these are all things I'm regularly using in my own work. However, it was a pretty intense project, because after the initial research time of talking to people and collecting stories, there were only three days allowed to make three shrines. It was also a little tricky, because although I (and several other artists) were employed partly as being ‘local', I'm not originally from the North East, so not particularly local. So, you've got that weird thing of making contact with community members so speak to them about their memories, but feeling like you're parachuting in, taking their stories to make ‘art', then swooping out again. There were a few groups of people who were really up for helping with the project, particularly members of the local history society. The theatre company too, have run loads of projects like this, and they seem to make some really interesting performances, so perhaps this occasional uncomfortable feeling came from me not being used to working like this.

The major problem I really had was the level of pay. There are a couple of other blogs on a-n discussing this issue, and it's not what I set up this blog for, but nevertheless, £80 a day is pretty crap however you look at it, especially given the immense range of skills, both artistic and otherwise, required for the job. The reason I got involved despite this, is that I could see ways in which the research from this project could lead into my own work, otherwise I would have avoided it.

(continues....)

# 16 [16 April 2009]

 (16th April continued)

Just before the project described above, I managed to negotiate entry into the empty library building I mentioned in my previous post. I spent a weekend hanging my dresses and photographing them and the rest of the interior with my Brownie and borrowed Lubitel, with the help of a friend. I'm pretty pleased with the results (see images attached to post) and also very glad that I gave up on using a digital camera in the first half hour of shooting. I've gotten so used to using a digital camera to document my work, taking loads of shots with varying exposures to get documentation right and checking them immediately, that it felt incredibly liberating not to have to do this. The two cameras I've got are much less accurate - the Brownie leaks quite a bit of light and you've got to work out the exposures (of anything from 2 seconds to five minutes) by referring to chart in the manual I downloaded. The Lubitel is more accurate, but a bit of guesswork is required to get the shot lined up as the viewfinder is through the second lens and it's completely manual, so I've been teaching myself all about handheld light meters and reflective and incident readings.

But not knowing exactly what the shots were going to be like was great. They feel rougher, less precise and I like it where the exposures are out a bit or the shot isn't lined up that well. Everything feels less clinical, less ‘perfect' and I like that. I'm intending to print some of these photographs onto old paper bags, old carrier bags and patterns of the dresses, cut out of pattern paper. The idea is that the photograph becomes an object, and that the material qualities of the support of conceptually relevant to the photographs and the dresses themselves. That's why I'm interested in using quite low value objects, cheap everyday stuff, which has perhaps had another use.... I want to be able to explain or ‘justify' this further, but I'm aware that this could easily become an overly intellectual exercise, and that some of these answers will come about by my making / using the objects and materials.

(continues....)

# 15 [16 April 2009]

(16^th April continued)

What has been weird in the last week, is that I finished the community project being aware of how much I work I can make in a really short space of time, and planning to apply some of that urgency and sheer work ethic to my studio practice. But of course, that hasn't happened. I had to catch up with admin that I'd been putting on hold, get my head back into what it is I'm actually doing in my work, plan and deliver a workshop, go to a talk at the Baltic, visit family for Easter, read a pile of essays for some seminars next week.... so hence why at 7pm last night, I was still in the studio and have been since about 9.30am and my list only had the first couple of things ticked off. I know I'm better at working for deadlines, but this is ridiculous.