In Search for Clay
Time for a reflection, so far I have neglected this particular blog at my own peril. I usually work with the work in front of me and spread across the wall so that connections are made easier for me. And from a sketchbook. I think it’s time to get analytical about fresh work before it starts to slip and slide in the mind. Before good ideas become frayed and morphed and/or forgotten.
The image has been casted away from the light, sun behind the lens, which casts a heavenly glow on the land. This provides a double-edged image for the abandoned post, one of a crucifixion and another that responds to no parking ‘At any time.’ The space appears to be over grown and unkempt, which would suggest that it has been forgotten, however not by all.
The more I walk past this part, a space between Tesco’s and the Church, the more the place seduces me especially under a low sun. Although I (hate) fly-tipping. I have shared a few houses I even hate it when people do not recycle. This land although abused by whomever choses to dump rubbish in it, has a compelling appearance. I say rubbish I have seen bags of clothes dumped. Some of the clothes it would appear as though the dumpee has even kept the black bag. In my head I’m screaming charity shops!! Nature fights this abortion of human chaos, with its powerful gaze and will to exist. I have never seen such a contrasting, contradictory area of this kind. Or maybe I have but have not recognised it to this extent. I did make the comparison of Wedgwood and the ‘Wastelands’ and how they were reflexive in many ways. That’s an active thought that is still circulating. However I find this place slightly more honest and grotesque, beautiful in many different ways, ugly in others.
‘Biscuit wear’
This spot especially intrigues me, the smashed titles appear like autumn leaves. I intend to place the found bath within this space or the overgrown ex road, as the yellow lines form a proceeding present yet the weeds puncturing the earth reveal a past not too long forgotten. The space is for me surreal. And I intend to film the golden creature within a domestic bath filled with lemons uncut in water, so that features such as a nose rises up like an abstract pink/nude triangle, as the figure rises up from the bath ‘it’ is then in the waste land as the golden creature, with its oddly shaped, grey feathers sticking through a the bath of white feather. The creature rises from the bath. My aim is to successfully seamlessly thread the two footages together, so one action slips into another. Similar to the image of ‘sally’ in the further away shot. She will be used as an indicator into the newly inhuman creatures eye. These certain objects will be used as portals influenced by Mike Stone’s Lemon Man. Stone has a gift of being able to write about three persona’s/ characters , these characters are reflexive of one another in the sense that they are the same person, but fragmented like a mosaic. I also aim to slip in and out of reality/realities. And play with the reality we believe we already know, using everyday materials candidly. Some of the ‘natural’ findings in the ‘wasteland’ have these properties already. They just need to be carefully crafted into position and identified sufficiently through trial and error.
In response to the current divide over changes in the city, through regeneration program. I have collected many opinions towards these changes some positive, negative and unsure. Some being that heritage is being lost to newer projects. Truly i’m going to have to do further research but I do believe in working from a feeling or responding to a place. I have made many baby heads , I currently have found links in the making of the heads using moulds and the manufacturing processes that can be found in making ceramic ware. The moulds themselves are often plaster. The repetitions of baby heads resonates thoughts on Wedgwood Muesum and it’s factory. A Museum a place where the art can be seen not through just the elitist eye, a supposed place where art can be appreciated by the thousands/ millions over the years. Because the art that’s shown is priceless? supposedly. Wedgwood asks for a £7.50 entry fee, before your allowed access through the doors. The Art shown is magnificently rich, colours, textures and designs couldn’t be faulted. Original Wedgwood was made from the clay of the land, what you find now is a factory using clay from Dorset. A small pottery business now owned by Fishars a Finland company who sells pottery to the public at £50.00 a cup. I can only imagine homes parading these commodities through glass cabinets, purely on the stamp underneath the cup. The gift of such finery during hard times as The Depression has been wilted down to a commodity that sales depend on the name. Like a tombstone to a grave. When I walk through the ‘Wasteland’ I don’t see ruins I see another type of Wedgwood, a ruin waiting. I look at the repetition of baby heads made of different types of plaster from the finer type to the cheaper sold plaster and I see the same faces just with more cracks. Wedgwood’s gift was it’s orginality now it’s gift has been auctioned off for £7.50, including an insight into the factory £10.00 of which a small percentage feeds into a crying city.
