ARTISTS TALKING

# 92 [12 February 2010]

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 car
Tomas Harold (thanks for lunch)
Jeremy Deller (nice jumper)
Lesley Young (I think)
Bill
Rachel Goodyear
Deaf taxi driver
Blind 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.

# 91 [8 February 2010]

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.

# 90 [5 February 2010]

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.

# 89 [5 February 2010]

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.

# 88 [3 February 2010]

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?

# 87 [1 February 2010]

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.

# 86 [29 January 2010]

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.

# 85 [25 January 2010]

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

# 84 [18 January 2010]

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.

# 83 [18 January 2010]

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.