Well I've been commissioned to make something for next year's Whitstable Biennale. That's it really, the brief that is. Make anything I want. I have a few ideas but as usual nothing firm. I quite like the idea of not doing performances and documenting them meticulously and was partly wondering if I could wangle some funded long weekend breaks. I'm really looking forward to taking the, apparently very, slow train to the coast before it is upgraded. I was watching Schlesinger's Terminus last night and having fun spotting the actors, they always touched their nose a real giveaway. Afterwards part of the dvd extras was a really boring but lovely hand tinted (I think) film about trains going from Stockton to Darlington. I think it was called Great Trains a title that was definitely trying too hard. Anyway I was also asked to write a biennale blog so when Alex Pearl is not in the Antarctic grinds to a stop I will leap once more into action. At the moment my possible titles are: Alex Pearl's 100 dirty weekends in Whitstable, or Performances I didn't do hopefully I'll come up with something pithier. Speaking of which, the publicity for the next incarnation of Goodbye to most of the daydreams in Bath, suggests that on the opening night I will be found in conversation with John Ronson. It has the proviso 'TBC' which probably covers the likelihood that I will run screaming from the room leaving Mr Ronson in conversation with himself (far more interesting)
On the way to London I saw the wife of a friend at Ipswich station. I had a sudden horror of having to make conversation all the way to London, of there being signal failure and being stuck for hours in a stifling carriage. The horror wasn't born out of a worry that she was boring but more that I was boring and I would be embarrassed by my lack of social grace. Suffering from severe performance anxiety I ducked my head rapidly and scooted along the platform.
My plans for the day involved meeting Sue Jones in a Cafe and then going on to Cell Project Space to catch "Look! no Hands" a group show involving: Athanasios Argianas, Kim Coleman & Jenny Hogarth and Simon Faithfull. The premise of the exhibition was that each artist used video to mediate performance.
I arrived way too early for my meeting, but not early enough to go somewhere else or do anything useful. Undeterred I filled my time drinking coffee and checking my emails until I realised that most London cafés don't seem to have toilets. After that I moved on to tea. I had texted Sue and, although we had met before, I thought it best to use the blind date technique of telling her I would be wearing a red jumper. The cafe we had arranged our rendezvous was blisteringly hot and by the time she arrived I was sheeting sweat and attracting worried glances from the waiters. I was now suffering from imminent bladder failure coupled with severe dehydration but I don't think she noticed. My biggest fear (apart from wetting myself) was that Sue would ask me to develop some sort of performance for Whitstable but she didn't.
After the meeting I set off for Cell swankily using my iPhone to guide me. I had checked the website but had been unable to ind out if it would be open. I won't go on but it wasn't and I turned away with a small smile.
I've posted a review on Reviews unedited
As I left the area I popped into a little Gordon Dalton show at Keith Talent and was disappointed, not with the work but, rather because it was not what I had set out to see. I felt instantly guilty about the disappointment and went round four times (it was a small show) reading the press release. Apparently disappointment is an integral part of his sculpture, suddenly the central image of a shark costume swallowing the artist's legs made me feel better about things.
Later in the new Whitechapel café I saw Sue again talking to two friends. Feeling embarrassed and not wanting to interrupt, I sidled around the tables pretending not to see her.
I'm on the London train getting ready for my meeting with Sue Jones. I met her ages ago at a Tea party (no joke) in Ipswich and only have a vague recollection of what she looks like. Luckily I was able to look at her profile picture on Facebook and as long as she is wearing a straw hat and sunglasses I will be able to pick her out in the cafe. She want to talk to me about being in the next Whitstable Biennale but I'm not sure in what capacity, light sweeping up duties maybe. The fear of being asked to do something live is lurking in the back of my mind and I am quivering slightly as I type. She said to bring some images of recent shows so I have prepared a two hour Powerpoint presentation complete with handouts and other visual aids detailing my life's work. Cleverly I haven't told her this as I think I would be sitting alone in the cafe my carnation wilting in my lapel. I am glad to announce that I have also been able to move my office from Burger King to a civilised little vegetarian cafe in Museum street. They don't have wifi but someone nearby has been kind enough not to secure their network. The main advantage of this cafe is not the quality of its nut roast but that its clientele doesn't heave itself out of its pushchair onto ones table screaming "food food" until the mother arrives to ladle meat products into its gullet. Actually I miss it a little.
I've made a little itinerary for today using my new iPhone. I'm hoping to get to Vyner Street and Cell project space. The phone has plotted a route, identified various hazards and will play James Bond theme tunes should I falter.
My new office is a Burger King down the road from my flat. For the price of a regular tea I can surf and email to my heart's content, though I have to admit the ambiance isn't exactly relaxing and I'm having a little trouble getting my emails to send. I've just had my first confirmed direct opportunity that has definitely come about via the power of blogging. Daniel Hinchcliffe emailed me from ICIA Bath university to offer me a show at their gallery. Apparently he'd seen a review I'd done of Lucy Harrison's show at Outpost, read my blog and decided to contact me. The show isn't until November and will hopefully be a new version of Goodbye to most of the daydreams with an emphasis on the hundreds of tracings I have done and the Black Flag game. Anyway this will only happen if I get the damn email of.
Other things in my inbox include a great picture of Stargazer 5 that was projected in a window in a tower block in Belfast as part of Residence's Windows festival and Coline Milliard has written a lovely essay about the show.
Josie Faure Walker's Hit and Miss issue two has also gone live with my sentimental piece about teenage death and the power of three.
http://www.newartcriticism.co.uk/
I'm travelling on an impromptu visit up to Stoke-on-Trent. I'm back on the train again and thinking about nothing much at all. I've got the talk ready, to be honest I didn't realise it was a formal talk until I received and email flyer from Airspace mentioning my name. Anyway it should be ok and I'm rather proud I've managed to set Powerpoint to move rather seamlessly between my presentation and its accompanying dvd. I was playing with my twitter and Facebook accounts on the first train down to London and wondering about what Coline said when I met her. I might be misquoting, but I believe she asked me if I thought I was truly an artist of the internet age (saying that she didn't) after opening and closing my mouth a few times umming and ahhing, blushing and bluffing I made some sort of very vague reply which I can't remember. I have a feeling most of the interview may have gone that way. I probably agreed with her at the time because, as she said (I think), I was very low-tech in my approach. Now I'm not so sure maybe an artist of the internet age is someone who isn't necessarily very techy (my spell checker wants me to say tetchy, it detects my mood)) but uses it easily, without worry. And indeed is able to splurge unfettered pretentious rubbish at will and disseminate it to a huge and largely unwilling audience. I'm still trying to be detached and cynical about Twitter but I did get hugely excited when I saw Monster Truck was following my tweets.
Andrew has sent me another email asking how the AN blog has affected my career, clearly he hasn't read my last post or maybe it was too vague.
Here's a list of direct things:
Ian Brown read it and asked me to write something for the publication for Trying to Cope with Things that aren't Human
There is increased traffic to my website.
Certain people in the Arts Council seem slightly nervous of me (though I think they are joking)
Occasionally someone says something nice which cheers me up
I have had some things published online and in magazines which have raised my profile above the parapet.
Reviewers and curators have used it for information.
The Foundling blog helped me decide on how the project should evolve and encouraged me to write more (this contradicts what I said in the last blog)
