Oh no – the residency slipped by without a minute to think never mind blog. I returned via Warsaw to Cornwall in the rain late last night after a late night networking the night before. I think too much culture may not be good for me.
I will have to do a retrospective blog. This could be useful as action research has these cycles of action and reflection, and – in a spirit of inquiry – I really do need to reflect carefully on what happened last week.
I got myself in a mess with the politics. Research has this problem, science has this problem, so why did the problem of politics in art come as such a surprise? I remember years ago going to a lecture on the social responsibility of science, where they were confronting this idea of academic freedom and the notion of an objective value-free science. Reality isn't like that. You need the funders money to pay your bills and they have their own agendas.
I think I'd just got into the idea of contemporary art having permission to be controversial, and generating critical dialogue being a good thing. Maybe not. Not when someone's paying me.
Anyway the beyond the pale soundwork was at least heard at the event I did on the roof of the Contemporary Art Gallery before anyone realised there was a problem. It was a new international anthem, served with Copernicus vodka shots and a pinch of stardust. I managed to find some local astronomers in the end who set up their telescopes. I gave out star charts and talked about philosophy. My translator helped me sort out the songs that the choir in regional costume sang that night. Songs about wishes and stars. Of course they may have been singing protest songs, but the accordian player smiled and looked great.
I had selected the best night for spotting shooting stars during the meteor shower. The clouds came just as the event started – the only cloudy night that week. I think I saw one though and I made a wish.
There was a flip chart for the movers and shakers to firm up their wishes for regional culture. But I couldn't put that in the gallery exhibition either because it might look like something left over from a conference that had been put in the wrong place, and not like art at all.
There was no blackout space in the gallery and they didn't have the equipment for my installation. So I cobbled together a film in my hotel room on the Thursday night for the next morning when many people in suits arrived for a day of watching powerpoint presentations on culture. My work was where they had coffee.
