Threads

Mouth and Music is a monthly event held by the lovely Heather Wastie in an unlikely gallery space above an unlikely pub in Kidderminster. The welcome you get is great though.

I’ve been thinking for a while that I’ve been skirting around and politely ignoring the performance elements of my work. I write poetry that gets stitched, or I record myself singing. But these words are never spoken to an audience. Having been introduced to Heather over mutual friends on Facebook, this seemed like a good way to dip my toe in the water to see if I liked it. I gathered up the friend who would be most likely to get something from the experience and off we went. I had a moment of panic in the car park when I realised I had invited an English and drama teacher to my first ever poetry reading… schoolgirl error perhaps.

There was a theme of weddings which was applied fairly loosely – people either didn’t know, or ignored it. I happened to have about my person a poem I had written for our wedding anniversary (an absurdly large number for a woman of my youth). It was ok, so I did another one, the original Lullaby poem that eventually got turned into the song (If you ferret around in a determined fashion you can find a link to it on my website).

I quite enjoyed myself, was complimented on my confident performance(pretend), and had other poets recommended to me. It was fun, and I’ll probably go again. The question is, will I start to include performance in my work?

*shrugs*

Dunno.

Really annoyed that I’ve left my camera at work over the long weekend… I’ll add photos to this later.

Despite thinking the stitching for the footprints was going to take weeks, I finished them 2 days ago. Quite like them, but because of the colour of dress and thread, I’m unsure whether the footprints in the sand reading will loom too large. It’s one of those things you don’t see fully till it’s done. I’m on the lookout for another adult garment (probably dress, but haven’t ruled out the father figure as yet) so that I can try doing shoe prints instead.

If I make another adult piece, and make it less nice, if I hang it with the yellow dress it will change it hopefully, if part of a pair.

I think I was super-motivated to get the dress finished because I had this little white baby dress with a boot print on. I sat all day yesterday stitching and this is now finished(tendonitis also looming). I think this is much more satisfactory as it’s not so nice as “footprints in the sand” dress. (I have to stop calling it that.) Well, it’s nice (must use thesaurus for alternative to nice), but when you get up close it changes. I like that balancing point…. How long do you look at it for, how close do you get before you go….”urghhh”? I feel when I hang these pieces I should observe and make chalk marks on the floor at the point where “aah cute!” takes a turn for the worse.

I’ve started eavesdropping on conversations between parents and children, and jotting things in a notebook as I sneak round the corner. I might start whispering into a dictaphone.

A few years ago… 4, maybe 5? I did the Artist Teacher Scheme through BCU. Discussing it this week someone said the scheme is great for the artist in the teacher, but not so good for the teacher in the artist, this certainly could be argued in my case. Especially considering my original intention in doing the course was to be a better art teacher. I think I’m a better artist, but my teaching is more laissez-faire and chaotic than it was. There is an argument from either side that my teaching is better/worse, because the majority of the day-to-day stuff is unplanned, and I spend my time providing the children with materials, equipment and space to have a go at the mad stuff. I think I might be helping them to become better at thinking about their ideas, but that means they are not always very productive. This makes providing evidence for assessment very difficult. Sometimes I might say “This pupil is this level, because I say so.” That can be a bit tricky…

A few years ago, this term’s work from year 6 ended up with them all having drawn pictures of the school, and designing a sculpture that never got made. This year, so far, I have seen sculptures of volcanos, engines and hearts; collages of friendship; a quilt; a comic book; a poem; a clay super-hero; Eddie Stobart trucks; acrylic paintings; watercolours; papier mache brain; an amazing piece of film made using an overhead projector, and old sheet and some twigs, recorded on the class digital camera; a series of clay figures depicting 3 stages of woman. I’m not teaching, but I spend my time wielding a stanley knife, mixing cellulose paste and finding the right sort of paper to make a giant origami phoenix.

Some children, in 6 weeks, produce 6 pieces of work, others don’t finish one.

Whether this is “good” teaching comes down to your head teacher. Luckily I have one who is brave and creative.

My final piece of writing for my MA is supposed to be about 2500 words linking my art to my teaching. I think the above discussion will be the thrust of it. I may use some of my blog to illustrate a change in attitudes, alongside photos of the children’s work.

I’m also wondering what questions I could ask the Y6 children about his altered work pattern – as up to this year, they have followed fairly conventional plans.

Materiality and Meaning

or

Materiality v Meaning

In my book – which isn’t a particularly large volume I must admit – art should have more meaning than just “this is what paint does when you splash it about”. Experimentation with your chosen medium is all well and good, but I feel it should be in the sketchbook realm. I am happy for those who splash paint about to argue the case, and I will be happy to have my mind changed. I’m not some old bag with “I know what I like” pinned to my head. To me, it’s what you then do with this knowledge that counts for more. The way you make those idiosyncrasies of the medium say something for you is where the nugget of truth is. The experimentation with fabric is where my vocabulary comes from. This is the language I speak. I know my lazy daisy from my French knot. I can do things with bits of old knicker elastic and a pillow case you can’t imagine! But I don’t tie the elastic round it and say “ooh look, elastic stretches, aren’t I a clever artist”

Someone mentioned the two words “Craft and Guile” to me the other day. (It was Bo again). I like these words. The use of skill. Thought. Process is important, always will be. Experimentation is also important. But for goodness sake do something with it when you’ve found out.

I find the question of when to write things on your blog quite tricky. Sometimes, people ask me to do something, and I’m very excited and want to put it out there. But I don’t. I hang back out of fear. Fear of jumping the gun, or anticipating something that doesn’t then happen, or “jinxing” the deal, or giving your idea to someone who then steals it. But then, if you wait until it’s all a done deal, there’s no excitement or build up, or even the discussion of ultimate disappointment.

At the moment I seem to have loads of balls in the air…

LOAF… done deal in that it’s booked, organised, but not quite there yet, posters done, but not catalogue. I can talk about that quite freely, because it’s mine to talk about… you’ll be hearing loads more about that in the weeks to come, and you may even get a little surprise present or two along the way. We are going to apply for a bit of funding, a modest sum. This process is driving me bonkers. I’m not good with numbers. Luckily I have help!

Work towards my final show… that’s mine too, so you’ll be fed up of reading about it by the end, then the inevitable post-MA slump. Just because it’s expected, doesn’t make it any the less slumpy.

The Going Public blog with Franny Swann and Julie Dodd bumbles and stumbles along, we haven’t quite hit our stride yet, but I think our quest for some sort of rhythm of communication is interesting, and the possibility of some work that might evolve from it is exciting (for us anyway).

I’m trying to do more with my shed this summer too. I’m getting involved with someone who opens their garden in the summer for the National Gardens Scheme. The idea being that the shed will work as a retreat for artists who would like an outdoor studio, or musicians and songwriters who would like to work in a similar way, then come together into some sort of performance-come-exhibition as it goes along. The shed providing a studio, a workshop, a classroom, a gallery and a stage. This is in the early planning stages, so as it goes along, as things become firmer I’ll talk about them too.

I have a very exciting thing to do at the beginning of June, that is making me nervous. I’ll tell you when I’ve done it, just in case! This is the one making the butterflies flutter by.

I have a seedling of an idea for stemming the post-MA blues. I’m playing this one VERY close to my chest because I’m convinced it’s such a good idea that someone either with more time or money will get there first and bugger it up for me!

While all this is going on, I’m still working out what will the content of my MA show be? I’m sewing, and singing, and making. I have very vague and hazy thoughts of sound being in one place and the textile things being in another, but linked somehow, so the memory of the music lingers. And I might make a little bit of film.

And now, you see, this post is too long. 543 words up to here (turning into David Riley?)

I usually go for about 300. I can’t maintain concentration for longer than that usually… whether I’m writing or reading!