I am going to be one of three performance artists in residence at South Hill Park, Bracknell from September 21st to October 17th. I will not find out my personal Rules and Regulations until the first day and then making work in response to them. As artists in residence in the gallery we will be available to discuss our work throughout the period.
Day 14
Successfully prototyped painting flesh tones onto icing yesterday before succumbing to illness that arrived with the immediate fear of swine flu, but it’s just a bad cold. Cheered myself up by researching into male and female erogenous zones and ordering exotic teas online. The somewhat gratuitous connection between tea and sex is causing a momentary anxiety, but the endless nose wiping combined with the disbelief that one body can produce this amount of snot, is preventing me from starting script development in earnest. As with all these leaps of faith I am sure the connections will come through the making.
Salivated at images of tea at the Berkley Hotel, (cold has clearly not affected appetite) where they serve cakes influenced by seasonal haute-couture collections. Challenged by thoughts of how to take this tea experience beyond the commercial or merely trite undertaking. One of the keys as always lies in the quality of interaction and realise that what I have been doing in my interactive performances can have a resonance here afterall.
My character development is also beginning to play on my mind. Kindness or authority? Kindness with authority? Oh Lord not Princess Di? Hers is one of the first names I wrote down in week one, with reference to the collective grief witnessed at the time of her death. Attempts to understand the public outpouring, have turned to the concept of a manifestation of a collective unconsciousness in the Jungian sense; the phylogenetic response to the influential role of the archetype. Suddenly feel tired, must get another Lemsip and more tissue.
Day 13
Oh dear, lots of information to add since my last posting, as is always the way, being in the process has been all consuming and the production, reflection and documentation sit side by side, my desire to summarise daily was taken over by being deep into the development of a clear direction for the work. The sense of panic eased four days ago when I realised that the voice of the people as a stand in for God was going to be very useful indeed. The consensus of opinion from the public was that as God, we should tell the people to ‘be kind’. I have taken this on board as my mantra, and I am finding it very hard indeed to be kind at all times. I am far from a saintly human being. I have also realised why I have been having so much trouble with the first rule “Love the extraordinaire”, it is, quite frankly, grammatically incorrect. Extraordinaire is both an adjective and a title, as in Chef Extraordinaire, Piss Artist Extraordinaire, therefore one cannot love it, that’s like saying love the brilliant, love the quickly. In conversation with fellow artists we observed that it is therefore the ‘the’ that is the focus of the love, and following this through that ‘the’ if accented (a slight cheat) becomes Thé. Love Thé Extraordinaire makes complete sense and is also true. I do indeed love thé.
With this realisation, the work has progressed at a swift rate and hence the absence of blogs.
I am creating acts of kindness for my audience in the shape of tea and cakes, extraordinaire, I am researching into tea ceremonies and information about the subject in order to generate material for a script. I am also learning to sugar model in order to create individual cakes for my audience. The work of fellow artists Tom and Katherina has been inspirational in their focus on the body, Katherina is skipping and hoola hooping, Tom is drawing images of the body onto fabric, and I am making cakes in the shape of explicit body parts.
Day six
A thinking day, I spent the morning following different leads, the Second Life attempt failed after several attempts to download the new version. One of my ‘avatars’ waits patiently in Help Island, her hair and skirt blowing in the virtual breeze.I have refined my questions to the visitors.
Do you think the people have a voice? Now that you have been elevated to the level of God what would you like to say firstly to me, secondly to me as the artist making this work.There is a pattern forming to the answers.
One of the visitors says to me “If it doesn’t feel right don’t do it”.I paint a little, it feels right. I am learning to use the medium again for the first time in many years. As I do this I can still hear the voice of Gordon Law my first painting tutor he says “plenty more gravy Mary”. I did bring the sketch book from 1979, I did it because it was the first record of me ‘living’ in a gallery as part of the Innsbruck Performance Art Festival with the group Reindeer Werk. I am surprised by the level of thinking and the same struggle is there at the beginning of the process. By the end of it, learning to be aware of living was the resolve. I heard only recently that one of the other young artists on that project committed suicide after it.
This creative life is never one of ease.
There are patterns in the letters in my writing exercises. I am following my instincts, reacting to the rules. It is probably a little too obvious a connection but at this moment it feels right. I have a jotter, I somatically remember to draw my guide lines, one for the base of the letter, one for the height of it, half way up. I didn’t know I had remembered this. Vox Populi, vox dei. It is a command. As I write the command over and over I meditate upon the words. I struggle to write well. I break the words up into letters, there are patterns in the letters, like stitches.
Day 5
Tired, worked too long yesterday. Interviewed a few more gallery visitors over cups of tea and coffee (must get some decent china and possibly a few biscuits wouldn’t go amiss) and scripted the dialogue using assigned voices. The scripts can be played, although all the voice choices have American accents, such irony. Questions from me centred on whether the people have a voice and the uniqueness of the person I am meeting. Their questions to me centred on what we are trying to achieve, who it’s funded by, why this work, cross-overs between one art form an another and interest in the way that we are interpreting the rules.
Searched for Person’s Extraordinaire, found some interesting candidates, one of whom lives in Bracknell tried to meet him in Second Life but it is so long since I have been into the ‘other’ world I have forgotten the name of my avatar. The God’s of this ‘new’ world only give you a limited selection of names and I find it hard to take such imposed limits to heart, or come to that, walk. There are wonderful possibilities for communication in this virtual land but I still prefer the sensation of touch. I talk of the importance of drawing, share a mutual love of artist extraordinaire Cy Twombly with one of our visitors. Searched for instructions on how to hold a séance. Keep coming back to ideas around a gathering, a gathering extraordinaire. I drew.
Have been asked to suggest discussion points for a meeting with arts advisor from ARC, Susan Diab. I put forward marketing and visibility because it’s the last thing on my mind when I am inside the work making it. Like now, I realise that I have only put this blog link on my Facebook comments and it was probably rendered invisible after about an hour by all the other comments.
Realised that vox populi, vox dei as an imposed rule means that whatever the people say I must obey.
Since you have now been elevated to the role of God, is there anything that you would like to say?
Any comments or instructions please to [email protected]
Day 4
Woke with an overwhelming desire to keep the visitors busy with lots of things to do. I am veering towards a voice workshop. My questions seem a little too obvious.
Long, long drive to SHP; the fifty miles of bollards on M1 with about a dozen workmen between them, made the journey an hour longer than normal. On arrival Installed old style desk and chair, a card table, a work table from SHP has arrived. I’ve started to inhabit the space. Interview one person, others reluctant to talk or have no time. Am thinking of the religious connotations of the rules, whilst feeling disciplined by them, hence the desk. Start to draw and write ‘lines’. I had no idea those writing lessons from the age of six are still with me. I still struggle to get my hand into the right position, I am left handed, I smudge the page.
I search for more images, download the virgin Mary on toast, Jesus in white robe and arms outstretched on a dog’s bum, tricks of mediums. I write yet more notes, tomorrow I will type up the dialogue from today and put on automatic script reader. Stupidly long day, but seem to be moving in a forward motion rather than doing a clumsy slalom.
