University of Kent

Rip it up and start again.

Now I’m back at home after being back at home, and the clarity comes and goes as the fatigue goes and comes. I didn’t realise how much I needed to go until I was there, and now I am so glad I went for it. Having a different space and perspective was exactly what I needed, and its effects have stayed with me. As always happens when I spend time back home, I came away with many ideas, but now I’m glad to be back home. And now things are moving quickly: I’m getting rid of my old dreams and making space for new ones. In the very minute I arrived at my house, I had an offer on my camper van, and it was sold a few hours later. I’m going to take down all of the artwork on the walls, with all of its old memories, and store it. And I’m going to replace them with new faces. I’m going to give away the materials I’ve hoarded but know I can’t use any time soon. I like traveling light. There’s going to be a lot of starting over again this year, and a lot less baggage.

I did come back with a new model to add to the four I’d secured before leaving in December, so that was a helpful development. I need to sort out my interviews for the professional practice unit and get my head around preparing a presentation on my work and a portfolio. And of course there’s the ongoing work with the sculpture awaiting me, and the dissertation. But there’s no way I’ll be as stressed as I was before; I’ve rinsed it out of me now. I have a feeling now that I’ve reconciled two very different parts of myself, and that’s made it easier for everything to roll straight off my back.

Having this focus on gender studies and masculinities in my mind whilst out there led to some interesting observations on how firmly fixed the roles are in some cultures, and how these are promulgated. Of course I’ve noticed them in Britain and America, but in the West Indies the male is resolutely unreconstructed and the lines are more strongly defined. It’s clear in the song lyrics where predominantly male singers call instructions for the female dancers to obey, and female singers do the same. It appears in the tag lines for two brands of beer and stout I hadn’t seen before: “A Man’s Beer”, and, “Men Drink This”. It popped out of the screen one evening on a CBC tv call-in program on paternity and child support issues. I know I could go much further into an analysis of misogyny in Caribbean music and dancehall culture… but that’ll have to wait a while.

So while I will admit that Skinny Fabulous’s song is incredibly catchy, I’ll refrain from doing the “6:30” on the principal. I’m no kill-joy though – I love Lil Rick’s “Go Down” I still take note of the inherent power structures while I bus’ a wine. It has the instructor pattern but is fortunately more on the philogynist side of the soca spectrum. So much material in the music alone and so little time… but that can be a side-project after the final show, maybe a chapter in the extended version of my dissertation.

Oh, and I realised that in my last post I forgot to include a mention of ARC magazine, which I found whilst out there – I’m going to have to try to get hold of it in the UK. Have a look – http://arcthemagazine.com/arc/

Last week I settled down to a routine of working. I read and bookmarked during the day wherever I could, and made notes and wrote at night once everyone had given up and gone to bed. This seemed to work, as a bouncy 7-year old only has so much patience with being told “I have to work on my dissertation” when he wants attention, or more often to use my laptop.

The bad bit is that I just didn’t manage to get into this routine in time, and I missed out on the deadline to submit a draft to my art history lecturer. I might end up flying blind for most of this as a result. The good bit is that in only a few days of concentrated effort, I’ve written the dissertation – the first draft, of course. The bad bit about the good bit… I may have overstretched my outline; and there’s no way I can condense the various branches of research I’ve been following into the confines of a relatively short essay. It’s feeling more like social anthropology at the moment. Fascinating reading, but a niggling feeling that I should talk about the actual art in question first. Maybe I’ll have to get this done for the course, then write a longer version (if I should ever find myself with nothing to do). Now I can see how being concise can be more of a challenge than filling out the word count.

During a trip into town I finally got to visit the main library and yes, although it’s in a newer building than the old coralstone building that previously housed it, it feels remarkably like the branch library, only with air conditioning. I wanted to get some pictures of the drawers housing the old card catalogue but didn’t want to get into trouble… and my camera was in the bag I’d had to leave with the security attendant on entering. What I did get was an ancient copy of The Suffrage of Elvira, at last! I assure you that I’ll give it back.

There hasn’t been much in the way of drawing apart from some sketchbook doodles. But I don’t feel bad about that. Now that I’m facing the end of my time here I just want to enjoy it. Still, I always had plans to make this visit work for me: I made contact with Annalee Davis, an artist I thought would make an excellent subject for one of the case studies required for the impending Professional Practice unit. She agreed to do an interview, and I’m definitely looking forward to writing it up now – it’s very relevant to my particular experience for one of my case studies to include someone who’s had a similar background: coming from the Caribbean and training abroad. If I have time I’d like to visit Morningside Gallery at the Barbados Community College campus. I also found an excellent magazine on fine art in the region. It’s fantastic to know that there’s so much more going on here than what’s on the surface!

http://www.annaleedavis.com/

http://www.bcc.edu.bb/

After the settling in period, I’ve started to get down to business. I haven’t done so much as put pencil to sketchbook, but after failing to dent some of the dryer tomes I brought with me, I’ve finished one of my key texts, Abigail Solomon-Godeau’s fantastic Male Trouble. Even better, I’ve had a nostalgic trawl around the Oistins branch library, which was the first library I joined as a child. I found a couple of rather interesting books – the first a collection of essays entitled Gender: A Caribbean Multi-Disciplinary Perspective, and the second, The Barbadian Male: Sexual Attitudes and Practice. Although I doubt that either will actually fit the bill for my precise aims – perhaps too regionally specific – they’re still pretty fantastic finds. I don’t care too much if they don’t make the bibliography.

The main library has been moved to another part of Bridgetown, and the catalogue still isn’t computerised. I’ve yet to visit but I hope to tomorrow. I’m actually quite excited at the prospect – I didn’t spend too much time at the old library in town, and I’m wondering what the new one will be like. New and shiny? Or like the Oistins branch, only big? Calling the local library ‘retro’ would be unfair; it is what it is, and since my days of visiting probably hasn’t been altered beyond the two internet-connected computers for public use. It would be like calling the entire country ‘retro’. Which wouldn’t go down well. At all. Actually it’s very charming as it is, and you really have a sense of the purpose of a library – these books have been used – studied, underlined, pored over, really and properly used. The great thing about it is all the fantastic West Indian books you can’t get anywhere else! If I come across a copy of The Suffrage of Elvira by V.S. Naipaul, I’d be sorely tempted to let them keep my BDS $20 visitor’s library card deposit in exchange for parting the island with the book… but that would be theft, and premeditated, so I can’t. Sob.

I do wonder what it would be like having to research my essay from here, without the massive resources I have at home – the college and university libraries, the Kent libraries and the British Library… and to think I hesitate to travel to Canterbury to the university campus! After having a whinge to a Bajan friend about not being able to find any Lacan in the Ashford library a few weeks ago (and having to spell both “Jacques” and “masculinity” to the librarian) I think I should count my blessings instead.

Today I visited the Gallery of Caribbean Art in Speightstown. I’m naturally reticent when it comes to promoting myself, schmoozing or networking. However, this time I’ve decided to be bolshy Lee and introduce myself to the art community here. I’d surely have done it by now if I’d have stayed, and hey, who knows, I may find myself here again some day. And quite simply, I haven’t got a clue about the art scene in Barbados, which is pretty bad. However, on entering the gallery I knew it wouldn’t be a fit for me (nor I for them), but I decided to persist, as it was only an introduction. It’ll suffice to say that my work definitely does not fit the bill of “Caribbean art” as defined by that gallery. I definitely would never want to have my work defined by such a rigid term, and definitely have no plans to alter my methodology to fit the look proscribed by a regional hegemony. Neither would I want to be defined as a “woman artist” as though accepting the status of “Other”. I do think, though, that it raises very important questions about individuality, intentions, tropes, types and perspective. And, to be blunt, about who in this country can afford to buy art, and what they want and expect. It’ll be interesting to see what the other galleries hold. I don’t think that hegemony is too strong a term either, but I’ll hold off from making any further comments until I’ve seen more, and spoken to more artists. But it’ll be interesting to see if my gut feeling is right.

Today’s blog is brought to you by: Laptop By The Pool

No, seriously, somehow I’ve managed to find myself in a luxury villa compound in St. Philip, day houseguest of an American woman I only met a few hours ago. Oh well. I could tell you how I came to be here, but your version would be more exciting.

Blogging from over 4000 miles away seems rather strange, and yet still right. I’d decided to do myself a favour and disconnect from all of the unnecessary things I have to maintain in Britain. I can’t entirely disconnect because the academic deadlines will be waiting for me when I get back, and I do have to do some work while I’m out here. So I’ve trimmed everything else right down, but this blog has become something more than an obligation; it’s become a way of sorting through all of the disparate pieces and putting them into lines, and having the record of where I’ve been helps me to figure out where I want to get to. Basically I’ll forget everything I’ve ever done if I don’t write it down. No pictures yet, as I’ve managed to forget my camera. And I’ve been sleeping for most of this time.

The strangest thing about being back home this time is how it doesn’t feel strange at all. Two years ago, coming in to land was almost revelatory, and the hangars, garages and houses seemed so small and unreal. Two years later, the entire experience felt entirely different, just as it should be; less exciting, yes, but more comforting, as there was no shock to overcome, only a sense of familiarity.

Working on my reading list whilst communing with my roots hasn’t been entirely straightforward; the Henwood library wouldn’t be too impressed at how close their copy of Judith Butler’s Gender Trouble came to salty ruin by way of an unexpectedly high wave at Miami Beach. Fortunately there’s no more than a bit of sand under their spine sticker, so I’ve got away with it this time.

Having a few days to recuperate before my mother arrives from Boston with her inevitable flurry of activity has been a bit of a blessing. Once she’s here there will be the inevitable visits to the old neighbourhood, the friends, the relatives, and of course the stopping in the street to chat with casual acquaintances, of which she apparently has thousands in this island. My role in this will be part participant, part chauffeur.

There’s never a break from the drama though; today my laptop charger decided to bite the dust, leaving me in the half-charged lurch. So while I have a few minutes of charge left, I’m saving my notes as an email draft, and uploading this missive. If good ol’ mother has managed to come to my rescue and buy a replacement charger for my laptop, everything will go wonderfully, and the updates will continue. If not, I’m stuffed.

Out of my hands. It’s like being in a school exam, finishing early and then having to sit in silence, wondering why everyone else is writing so much more than you. Flicking through the pages, looking for that question you missed, and generally sweating until the time’s up.

I don’t think I could have done much more, to be honest. I’ve worked very hard this term, and even on things that I really had no business bothering with! I did enjoy the work as well, particularly getting myself into a fit of the giggles painting individual chest hairs. Yes, I’ll freely admit that. All I can do is hope that I did an adequate job of explaining myself and the work during the crit, and beforehand to the tutors. I do feel like I’m missing out on the chance to see everyone else’s work during their crits next week.

As for the paintings, I’m happy with my experiment. I feel as though I’ve come a long way because of it, and know which direction I need to head in as well. I’m starting to see my trip home as a real holiday, as a chance to get off the treadmill and float for a while. Over the break I hope to do some watercolour paintings and drawings, and see how they integrate with the work I’ve just completed. Although when I’m in Barbados, it’s the architecture that I find most exciting… I may end up just with drawings of beautiful buildings. I don’t mind. I’ll be working on my dissertation, so I should do myself a favour and just draw and paint for the fun of it. What a radical idea!

I had a bit of time, post-hand-in, to focus on my website at last. After going through the process of setting up a site as a writing portfolio, I figured out how to do it via my main website – so now I’ve got a duplicate site, but I guess it doesn’t matter. What I do need to do is actually get more writing finished! I’ve tarted up my website with my latest images, and I think it looks much better. Still unsure about my paintings as the main image, but it’s better than before. I’m just wondering about how much of my older work to include; I suppose I’ll have to look at it for a while and see how it feels as it is.

I’m not sure how often I’ll be posting whilst I’m away, but there’s sure to be lots to cover by the start of term!

www.leedevonish.com