Keeping It Going

I was in Colchester again for the first time in ages last weekend. I visited the First Site gallery and reminisced about how, in 2015, a lively, enthusiastic audience participated in my 10×10 project. For one reason and another, I haven’t been able to present the project since and can’t believe it’s now eight years since the last objects were exchanged, left in the 10×10 cabinet by the general public in Colchester. It was a particularly pleasant day, I recall – the local community engaging with the project in a really thoughtful and considered way.

Scroll on from that time and five years ago, 10×10 should have been part of the Deptford X festival, the Colchester objects up for exchange with an entirely new audience. But I had to cancel at the last minute due to illness. I was gutted at the time, I remember, but I had no choice in the matter and was in hospital throughout the entire run of Deptford X that year.

And so, I’m extremely excited to be able to show 10×10 at this year’s Deptford X fringe festival. This year, the Festival celebrates its 25th anniversary and organisers are particularly keen to include projects from previous festival years.

I’ve always loved this project – love the way it’s unfolded in quite unexpected ways. Many of the stories associated with the objects left behind are quite remarkable. One day I really will record them all. For now, it’s all about sprucing up the 10×10 cabinet and locating the box which holds the 100 objects exchanged at First Site in Colchester. I have very little recollection of any of these objects so it will be fascinating to see what’s there and what I have to display in 10×10′s next public outing. The theme of value and worth runs deep in this project and while on the surface, objects might look pretty worthless, the narrative behind them gives them a much greater value. As I asked in the original 10×10 literature, at a point when I had no idea how the project would evolve: ‘Would it be people’s generosity or meanness that triumphed when it came to the value of the objects that were bartered? Would the piece be ‘worth more’ at the end of the process?’

If you’re familiar with this project, all of the above will make sense. If not, and you’d like to know more about it, this link leads you to a short synopsis of what 10×10 is all about: http://www.katemurdochartist.com/10×10.html

Details to follow re further dates and times but Deptford X has its opening night on Friday, September 22nd from 5-9pm. The 10×10 cabinet will be on display, upstairs in the ArtHub gallery at 5-9 Creekside, Deptford on this date and then open for exchanges to be made on Saturday 23rd & Sunday 24th from 12-6pm.

Everyone is welcome.

Recently, I’ve started working on a couple of vintage woollen blankets – raw material for opening up opportunities for making new work, perhaps – you never quite know. The blankets are both a very distinct pink in colour, dating from the 50/60s. I’m enjoying being reacquainted with them – such evocative items – the blankets’ colours, their feel and the biscuity kind of scent attached to them conjure up all sorts of memories. I’ve always been drawn to the colour of the wool, but the satin trim also appeals.

The last time I used one in my work was a while back – it’d been stored away in a suitcase, protected from moths. I’d been looking for fabric to wrap around a dressing table which needed transporting – the mirror in particular needed protection. I remember hesitating before cutting the blanket – that first cut! – but on the basis that there were plenty more where they came from, I went ahead. The blanket was cut into several pieces, wrapped around the dressing table’s main frame, the drawers and mirror and then tied securely with string. I spent some time doing it, enjoying the process of swaddling the various bits of the dressing table. I wish now that I’d taken photos of the assembled pieces before I loaded them into my car to transport them – it was a startling transformation.

Cut to, seeing a very similar blanket in a local Oxfam shop recently for the grand sum of £50 – one almost identical to the one I’d cut in pieces; they’ve clearly become fashionable and sought after. I find it fascinating how fashion dictates what’s ‘in’ (or out) at any given time. For me, their appeal has been never ending – more than anything, I think, because they evoke such strong childhood memories – the good parts, particularly – those moments of feeling warm and safe and secure and loved.

The blankets take me back to overnight stays in my Nana’s house, from the age of around eight onwards – pre duvet days, when you were tucked up in bed so tightly sometimes that you could barely move, the soft satin trim around the neck, a welcome relief from the itchiness of the all wool blanket. The colour pink has been traditionally associated with love – with kindness and femininity, too.

My hope is that new work might evolve from being reacquainted with them, but it’s fine if it doesn’t – having the blankets around me in the studio again is a joy in itself, calling to mind those overnight stays with my Nana – the one on one attention, the feeling special – the ‘girls’ united in love – a hot water bottle slipped under the blankets for extra warmth and comfort.

I’m amazed that this is my first blog post of 2023, but then I suppose it reflects pretty accurately how much has been going on since the start of this year – life events, mainly – not art-related stuff. It feels like there’s been a shift in focus this past week and so, here I am – back in blog writing mode and also starting to feel back on the proverbial saddle with regards to thinking about and making work …

Perpetuity: the state or quality of lasting forever versus Precariousness: the state of being dangerously likely to fall or collapse

I’ve been looking through recent photographs of objects, taken in a corner of my existing studio. There’s something about the overall sense of shabbiness of this corner that frequently suits the objects I place there for photographing – the light is good, too.

Nobody’s sure of the time scale yet, but the studio building’s about to be redeveloped – knocked down, essentially – my studio with it, alongside those of yet another community of artists, being moved on. The gentrification of Deptford has been evident for quite some time now but it doesn’t seem that long ago that a community of artists was moved on from Cor studios in Creekside. I was a part of that group, too.

Cor studios, when they were there, and currently ArtHub studios, neighbour the APT gallery and studio complex. The ‘P’ in APT stands for perpetuity – the state of lasting forever. What a brilliant investment the APT artists made when they bought the building. How lovely it must be to have the comfort and sense of security of knowing that you’re able to hold onto your studio – forever. In contrast, for many artists, the P so often stands for precariousness.

It looks likely that once planning permission is 100% granted, the entire ArtHub studio building will be knocked down. I’ve been wondering if the new developers would allow me to keep a part of my existing studio – just this small, corner part of it, so that I continue with my ‘From the studio …’ photographs of objects. It’ll probably be far too impractical & complicated to manage – too heavy, probably to take away, but on the basis of nothing ventured, nothing gained, I think I might give it a shot. Or perhaps in time, I’ll look at losing the studio as just another challenge – another step on my journey of letting go, in all senses of the word. Let’s see …

Holiday time reflections …

‘The malt whisky that used to be offered, the crystal wine glasses no longer used, the napkin holders, redundant in a drawer, the placemats infrequently out of their box, the jelly moulds, the cake slice – the cake frills and candles … signs of the times: ageing and a world increasingly shrinking, family gatherings and the paraphernalia associated with them no longer needed – cluttering up the cupboards. ‘I’ve got to get rid of all this stuff – I don’t want the family cursing me when I’m gone …’   (Kate Murdoch, November 2022)                                                              

As someone who’s had these conversations with family members recently, I’ve been left wondering at what point the objects in our home might start to become a burden to us, rather than something to be enjoyed. Such conversations tie in very well, of course, with the ones I so often have with myself in relation to my studio and the amount of stuff I’m continuing to hold onto …

I’m always interested to hear others’ responses to any work I make. On seeing my most recent piece of work, ‘Meat too’ (ii) an artist I know commented on how they would ‘never have recognised this work’  as mine. The word ‘aggressive’ was mentioned and I know what they meant; this second piece of work in the series is undoubtedly so. I’m glad it was picked up on because it’s precisely the feeling underlying the work, echoing not just the overwhelming feelings of anger felt by numerous women who associate themselves with the #metoo movement, but for many others, too.

Nevertheless, the comment about how different this piece was from other work I’ve made, intrigued me. I think ‘Meat too’ (ii) has a definite connection to other pieces – more explicit in this particular piece, perhaps, but it’s there – in ‘Sweet Nothings’ and ‘that’ dress – work that goes back to 2015. It reminds me of the consistent thread running throughout my work – my fascination with the ongoing objectification of women, essentially – the attempts to silence them, as well as the perpetual violence and harm which tragically, continues to be inflicted upon many.

As I said in my last post here, a lot of the work I make addresses the different ways in which women, through the male gaze and objectification, are often judged by how they look and how they behave. Miss World and other beauty pageants spring to mind – the ultimate in meat marketing. In the absence of any real significant change, my interest in the restrictions imposed on women continues – women living their lives under scrutiny, constantly reminded of the importance to look a ‘certain’ way, forced to ‘know their place’ and often unable to exist freely or be their true, authentic selves.

‘Meat too’ (ii), 2022 (as shown above) was included as part of the ‘All Under One Roof’ exhibition, curated by Luke Merryweather at the Art Hub studios in Deptford, London. The work of fourteen artists who live or work in Deptford was included in the show and continued throughout the first weekend of the Deptford X art festival, 2022.