Diary of a Foundling Artist

Last Post

As promised this will be the final instalment in the Diary of a Foundling Artist. The show came down yesterday. I was working so couldn’t go down to help out so I just have to wait and see what turns up (Sandra’s mugs would be quite useful although my daughter is most looking forward to getting her hands on the tv). I’ve had the last official email from Gill (actually there were two) and now I have to look forward to the post mortem (evaluation) with Commission East’s appointed person (Erica). I like to be grudging in these situations but on the whole I think I’m quite happy with the way it’s gone. I’ve got some good contacts to follow up and I’ve extended my practice (and use of artspeak). I’ve also realised that maybe I should be pushier in certain situations (I’ll leave that one hanging). Bizarrely I’ve heard that I am on the radar of certain gallerists. This conjures disturbing images of strike submarines or air traffic controllers and near misses. Exciting things in the future: a three week screening in Sydney, a solo in Hayle, a 3 month residency in Bedford and an intriguing little one day show with Vane in Newcastle.

I wasn’t sure how to end this blog until today. At 4.00pm, after 16 rather savage years, I finally had to have my dog put down.

I missed a seminar yesterday because I had to teach. It was about pricing and selling my work which is something I have always had difficulty with. When someone asks to buy something I've made I have to fight down an urge to give it to them and then run away. If asked to come up with a price I always think I'm asking too much or too little. I'm not philosophically averse to selling, if selling meant I could escape the increasingly awful experience that teaching in an FE college has become I'd sell everything: my dogs, a kidney… Shame I missed it.

Today I was tidying up my studio. We have an open day coming up and I want to show some of my latest stuff to see if its any good. I'm just beginning a longish film which might be based around a fictive proposal not to go to the Antarctic (as I imagine its quite cold and probably full of artists). Its a bit dark at the moment and is mostly filmed in a washing up bowl. Anyway, I was mainly throwing stuff out and breaking up sculptures that don't look as interesting as they used to when I had a little moment of joy. I noticed a sheet of tracing paper pinned over the heater had risen in the convection current. I set an image of a boat on it and watched as it rose and fell in the swell.

Big Boulders & Dykes

I've been trying to write letters to people I should contact – its not going well… I think I have some sort of blockage…

My preparations for Bedford are sporadic and as yet unformed. I have spent the last week staring at lists of ideas and current strands in order to somehow pull them together into a coherent whole. This may be a Sisyphean task

Here is a current itinerary.

Books –
Diaries, some printed some online
Some adventure based books which follow a sort of cinematic sequence involving a clock work antarctic explorer (There is a film to go with this too)

Others which are much more static/mundane views of passers by taken through cafe windows.

Films –
An inexplicable series of films of bits of polystyrene floating in water.
Some partly made films of foreign landscapes found in an old video camera.
A few films of bobbing boats (automata).
More films of balloons being blown about.
Ongoing Protest films
Ongoing automatic film making
Magic tricks

Drawings –
14 pencil drawings of a piece of elastic that came out of my pants.
A single unbound book of weird little drawings

Sculptures –
Tiny adventure sculptures (some moving – physically not emotionally).
Little models of made up murder scenes.

Photos –
Some photos my wife is (hopefully) taking as she crosses the Atlantic.

Things I am thinking about –

Ambivalence

Adventure

incontinence

Titles for shows –
Pantechnicon
My Daughter is a Beauty Queen

Feedback

There haven't been any reviews of RSVP so I did a very uncool thing. I flicked through AN reviews unedited, picked a reviewer almost, but not quite, at random (sorry Jack) and emailed him suggesting he review the show. I'm not quite sure why I did it, maybe I am very needy. Or it might be a reaction to blogging which buries you in your own brain. I often read the other blogs and everyone is just writing away in their own little world.

Amazingly my email was answered and Jack Hutchinson dashed off to the Foundling pen in hand (I imagine). The review is now online here. Of course I now feel guilt for being mentioned first; for criticisms and omissions. But it is a relief to get an independent view. Its a bit like squeezing a spot.

I also got an email from Gill the other day mentioning that Jordan Baseman had been to the show and liked the Foundlng Opera. In another fit of uncharacteristic rashness I emailed him asking if he would be interested in having a chat and/or doing a spot of mentoring. I don't think I've mentioned it before but I am also part way through an Arts Council career development grant. Arranging some sort of mentoring was a “highly recommended” part of the application. It's the Art Council's way of spreading the love (or attaching more well known names to their evaluations) Anyway he seems nice and although he shares my reservations about mentoring he said yes.

Finally, on You Tube Little Deaths 4 is rapidly approaching 1 million views and I am now planning to publish a book of all the comments received.

Gallery design, a few notes

Don't have a sign so small that a visitor has to peer suspiciously into doorways and repeatedly walk in and out of porches to find your gallery. This is especially bad in a residential/neighbourhood watch area.

Don't hide your gallery behind steel gates, across junk yards, up fire escapes, or around dark corners. Just one of these is discouraging, all four are frankly a bit silly.

If your gallery needs this level of security because it is sited next door to a crack den make sure you, or your neighbours, have clear signage. Also make some attempt to repair bullet holes.

Don't have two identical doors, one of which doesn't open, causing your visitor to become so embarrassed at their botched attempts at entry that they hurriedly move on.