Yesterday i performed my line drawing for the first time. I was anxious about this because it is usually quite a private activity in the studio, that only those who have a deep understanding of my practice have witnessed.
At 6pm a sizable crowd gathered and i was due to start. Should i say something first? Should i round everyone together? They all seemed quite happy chatting – so i decided just to start without making a scene. The noise was penetrating as the sharp graphite nib of the pencil scored along the canvas, and it soon caught everyone’s attention. Some people sat in a semi circle around me on the floor, near the tv monitor (Liam set up a video camera on the drawing and hooked it up to a live feed on a tv monitor, so the audience could see the detail of the drawing). Although i had my back to everyone because i was drawing, i was aware of movement and activity behind me – i could recognise people out of the corner of my eye, and they were taking photos and films on their small digital cameras. To my surprise, a man came up very close to me, and took quick photos with a huge camera and big flash, it was clear that he was from the press. The performance was generating more of a reaction that i had expected.
I drew for an hour and became more relaxed in my rhythm, and so did the audience – they all seemed very calm around me. Despite me thinking that they would get bored of this repetitive activity, most of them stayed for the full hour.
My arm ached, i could feel blisters developing on my palm, my body swayed from side to side as i drew the full length of the line, and i got a stitch. It hurt when i sharpened the pencils, and their nibs kept breaking. So much dust was produced. I had forgotten what a physical activity this drawing was, i became bored, but very determined and tired. Sometimes i would draw slowly and then i got fed up, so went really quickly for a short amount of time, until the nib broke again. The pencil made a sharp scraping sound on the fabric and perspex, a different sound each way, left to right, or right to left.
I found myself deep in thought as drew, thoughts about what the drawing meant and represented came into my head, and i wish i could had written them down for the seminar. I could also hear people in the background talking about the drawing, and what it meant for them, or what it looked like.
At 7pm, the performance ended and i took down the ruler and fabric. Everyone crowded round the remaining drawing on the wall with curiosity and took photos, and the room was filled with conversation and energy.
I was exhausted, but very pleased the audience had responded so well.
