It's a strange thing for an artist who feels drawn to performance and intervention to admit, but I do prefer to work in solitude. So imagine my discomfiture when I arrived at St Andrew's last Thursday armed with a carrier bag full of odd plastic bits and pieces and a camera, to find FIVE vehicles in the driveway of this sleepy church in its small scattered village. There seemed to be people everywhere, taking lawnmowers in or out of boots, slamming doors, feeding ducks and goodness knows what else.
I'm afraid I just panicked and drove away!
In all, I made THREE abortive attempts to perform my 'Display of Relics'. As I approached for the third time clutching my tripod, I could see through the open doorway of the church that one of the churchwardens was busily wielding a hoover. I know one should applaud this valiant effort to keep the copious quantities of bat droppings under control but I must admit my heart sank.
Still, patience was rewarded in the end and my Relics have now been duly Displayed.
I haven't found much out about how this would have been achieved in pre-Reformation days, but that's sometimes a good thing I think, as there's less risk of being tempted down a reconstructionist route. All I knew beforehand was that on the Sunday after St Thomas' Day (and observant readers will recall that the last Midsummer Bonfire was on St Thomas Eve …) the relics – usually organic material reputed to be fragments of the physical remains of saints or their garments, but sometimes fantastical artefacts such as a Griffin's Egg – would be displayed or paraded in some way at each parish church. And every church – however small and remote – would expect to have something to display, which makes you wonder whether medieval people ever questioned the authenticity of these treasures.
The idea for my Display came to me when we were visiting the Scottish island of Eigg in the spring. The two beaches close to the cottage where we were staying were both strewn with strangely sea-worn plastic artefacts, some of which seemed to me to resemble otherworldly body parts or broken bits of torture equipment. This worked for me conceptually on several levels and I became quite excited about the possibilities. In fact, I'd been looking forward to this festival since before Festial officially started.
Right now, all I have is a large number of photographs and one painting which I made yesterday at an inspiring workshop led by Nigel Skinner. But when time allows, what a lot of possibilities they seem to hold for future work. I know – it's just a case of being patient again.
http://www.re-title.com/artists/imogen-bardwell.asp
http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/yourgallery/artist_profile/Imogen+Bardwell/41443.html
