Threads

Went to New Art Gallery Walsall a few weeks ago. (I did blog about it) and saw everything, twice, but didn’t watch Zarina Bhimji’s Yellow Patch. I had a bit of a headache and didn’t want to sit in the dark with loud music for half an hour. These things happen.

Of course, as luck would have it, at my tutorial I played my new bit of sound messing about and my tutor asked if I’d seen it “I’m going this weekend” I lied. It turned out not to be a lie, because I did. Have you seen it?

Well…

To be honest I was completely stunned by it. Blown away. Gobsmacked. Inspired. So much so, I spent all Sunday with my headphones on, re-recording and remixing all my bits and pieces of sound. Yellow Patch is visually stunning – still, calm, like postcards in a way. Crowded with people who aren’t there. But the sound astonished me in its complexity… or do I mean simplicity? Sometimes the sounds were layered on top of each other, providing rich texture. Sometimes it was silent, and sometimes a single shot of sound sat alone, waiting to be absorbed, then the layering started again. It was like patchwork, plain pieces, texture, little bits, big bits, in your face bits that are far too brash, and small bits of sheer audio pleasure, and delicately embroidered bits that just sang.

I think this work has affected me more than anything I’ve seen in the last couple of years… and I’m sure will have a lasting affect on the way I conduct myself when putting sound together.

I’ve seen it twice more since Saturday, and I might go again at the weekend, to try to commit it to memory.

It’s also showing at the Whitechapel Gallery if you’re in the capital and aren’t lucky enough to have access to Walsall.

Jo Farnell wrote on her blog “show your working out”…..

www.a-n.co.uk/p/1708896

Recently someone told me that to be considered for an exhibition an artist should have at least eight serious pieces/ projects. So this is my personal goal right now. I’m aiming to build up a strong portfolio of work that I don’t hate that will feature on my own website.

This prompted a small exchange of comments between us and Sophie Cullinan. EIGHT! “what an enormous number!” said I, “what a friendly number!” said Sophie… or similar…

I only have 3 and a bit I think…

(the phrase “that I don’t hate” is useful isn’t it?)

1. Sheds

2. Children/parents stuff

3. Sounds?

OR…

1. Sheds

2. Straightjacket, mittens

3. Rocking chair

4. Aprons

5. Baby clothes

6. Shadows

7. Lullaby Half a new song…

OR…

1. Sheds

2. Shed photos

3. Song shed

4. Straightjacket

5. Mother and baby coat

6. Mittens

7. Rocking chair

8. 4 aprons

9. Incubator dress

10. About 12 poems

11. Collars

12. Baby dress

13. Bonnet

14. Lullaby

15. Shadow dress

16. Shadow coat

17. Half a new song…

just depends how I write the list then?

Money.

If I want to get my shed out there in the world, fill it with music and loveliness, and give people a good time, it costs me.

A van with a man, volunteers to lug it about and help me put it up. Fuel, time, beer maybe, and cake.

At some point, I had it in my head that the shed has the chance of making me a bit of cash. But that’s not happening yet. And if I’m truly honest with myself, it probably won’t ever. So at what point do I stop hoiking it about in a van and get on with work that doesn’t cost me so much?

This summer I’m hoping to get the shed to 3 different events. None of these will bring in any money, all of them will cost me. Last ditch attempt to show the world this lovely little self-contained performance space, in the hope someone might spot it and see its potential? Maybe?

Not sure. Because you see, I love it.

And will probably be hoiking it about for years.

(deep sigh)

Busy day!

The great thing is, it’s half term week, so haven’t got to go into work tomorrow, so I can mull things over immediately instead of putting my brain on hold for 48hrs.

Had a short first meeting about final show and catalogue… crikey!

Then a series of student seminars, always the risk of these being a bit patchy, but there but for the grace of God go I, so we listen patiently and clap appreciatively, even though inside occasionally we groan. However, it was interesting to hear one of the speakers talking about anonymous blogging. She has done this since her BA, and is now thinking about “coming out”. She seems scared about this, and guards her anonymity feverishly. I, however, am thinking about starting another blog, elsewhere, under a pseudonym, in order to say all the other stuff I feel too risky to say here. That terrifies me so much I probably won’t do it. I fear the flood gates, once opened, will reveal the madness within, in a way that is uncontrolled, unedited, and not at all respectable.

I suspect that eventually I will end up doing some sort of performance, as some sort of alternative persona. I can see the merits, but can also see the perils. I don’t think I’m ready for it yet. But thinking about it is a useful exercise that gives me a certain insight. I shall start with the removal of personal pronouns, and see where that takes me first. Baby steps.

Had a post-assessment tutorial, very useful. Thought about my development as an artist over last 5 yrs, and the direction that my work might go in from here. Onwards and upwards hopefully!

Earlier in the week, Julie Dodd sent me a link to the work of artist Miriam Schaer who has embroidered text onto baby dresses. At first I was thinking that this was similar to my work, but it is not. Any more than an artist that puts paint onto canvas with brushes is like any other artist that uses the same material process. The technique is not the same, the message is not the same, the aesthetic is not the same. It just interested me that we fell into the trap of thinking that it might be, when we wouldn’t do it with 2 painters.

http://handeyemagazine.com/content/baby-not-board

I found myself thinking I had more in common with the designer of a Morrison’s babygro who emblazoned “Help I’m being kidnapped these are not my real parents” onto the garment. The Sun and various child protection organisations are in uproar. I don’t think I’d put my baby in it, but if it was in a gallery, I would find myself considering it very seriously, but would also see it as something that had humour.

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/4108037/…

Am I just a bit sick?

The line begins to blur… I have always considered the things I make to be “The Art”… and only when they are finished. This whole debate about open works and performance has me rattled a little. A few things have happened to make this so:

The whole singing at the station urge (see previous post)

The puzzling over how to site and (dis)play a lullaby that is heard and not seen (many posts, further back)

The other day I was scrubbing one of the collars with bleach to try to scrub out the words so they were less readable. I sensed some hidden viewer on my shoulder watching me do it. Then end result was interesting, but so was the act of scrubbing, the smell of the bleach, the rhythm and the sound. I’m going to do another one, and at least record the lovely scratchy swishy noise it makes.

I am stitching again. I have drawn a fairly large outline on the child’s coat that I am now filling with stitches. My hands hurt, I shall have to stop if I don’t want to develop tendonitis… Again. But the Barely Controlled Urge rears its ugly head again, and undoubtedly I shall carry on sewing unless someone finds me something else to do. I like how this little coat is looking, is the pain incurred implicit in the amount of stitching seen? Or should I also show the photo of my swollen tendons to beat viewers over the head?

Do other people, and by this I probably mean artists, have a little audience sat on their shoulders, or am I developing some sort of personality disorder?

I think today’s work plan will be scrubbing, filming, recording and photographs. I’ll post something here if it works out, or perhaps even if it doesn’t. That might ease the achey hands for long enough to enable me to sit sewing for a couple of hours this evening?

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