From memory to desks….
To accompany last weekends performance and the general concern with desks, I have had over the past year, I have be working on an exercise I set my self a couple of months ago. I have been collecting photographs of myself sitting at other peoples desks. 'Where I work I don't have a desk". This work supports my ideas surrounding the power of owning a desk, its reflection of the human condition, its daily changing association to success, money, global issues, the blurring of art and life, processes, day jobs, always being between to things rather than being fully in one, and the history of the desk. Again, what could be perceived as a 'naughty' exercise, these photographs are taken without the desk owner knowing.
They are all taken using the self timer button and I only sit for a maximum of 30 seconds at each desk. I have tried to keep the pose consistent, but it is still very much a working idea.
The images shown were mainly taken at the college I work at, late one Thursday evening after everyone had left.
In addition to last week’s letters, I have also been physically representing the 'remembering' process- and exploring the use of a 'remembering game' if you like. Something that’s also came out of my workshop day in the village hall with Richard. He brought along some objects for me, a box of snakes, (quite literally) ribbon, chalk pastels, and a few other well-chosen items. I was immediately drawn to them, maybe because they were new to me? Maybe because they were nice objects, well chosen, complimentary of each other, if the mundane of objects can compliment. Colour wise they were appealing, warming; a breadth of pastel pinks, blues and greens…
I knew I wanted to respond to this desire, to everything about these objects, from the way they had been placed on the table by Richard to the space between each object, the composition and the very fact that at that moment I wanted them to stay like that for ever. My initial reaction was to pin these objects down, secure them, and keep them just the way they were- I slowly drew around each object using chalk. This in itself allowing me to spend longer with each object as this process required a slow action, thought and a focus on the circumference of each object.
It was this that led to considering the other things I wanted to keep hold of and lead me back to my thoughts on addresses and telephone numbers. What would happen if I forgot one day my old address? Or my parents address, my old, old address? Fundamentally I mean I would be okay, but would it scare me? I started to think it would, a whole memory wiped, a house wiped?
This consequently led to the accompanying image- a repetitive list in which I continuously listed the objects Richard had brought from memory, those objects I so wanted to remember, become precious over, trap, pin down- an obsession with recording and an untrust of the memory.
Although there's the performance looming, and yes its existed in an entirely different order everyday this week, I have decided to share with you something else.
I received two letters today- I posted them to myself from Sandon back to Hertford. Last week I did the reverse and opened two more letters in Sandon. They are not letters however but drawings, mark making if you like.
I think I mentioned this method a few weeks ago, well the exchange is up and running. The idea came out of the journeys I make between my studio in the village which was my ‘home’ and ‘home’ and then what was my ‘old home’ to what is now my ‘home’. And that both addresses are still associated with me. You never manage, however hard you try to stop some of your mail still going to your parents… unless they move I guess.
It comes from feeling very distant from somewhere at times yet in terms of location and physicality it being quite close. Then there’s the ridiculousness of posting this letter to myself when really I could drive it between the places, I often do this, explore the insane, the unordinary and awkward, the very reason for doing something purely because normally you wouldn’t.
It also attempts to celebrate the use of the post box, the royal mail, and the nostalgia of receiving a letter. Further more and initially it also came out of this idea of remembering and those addresses and telephones number that almost become embedded in your memory and what it would feel like to suddenly forget them and the resulting anxiety then in ensuring this doesn’t happen. In particular I have been focusing on my parents address and phone number, which were also my own growing up and between the age of 8 and 19.
These ‘accidental drawings’ are created by the marks made during the process of the letters traveling from one location to the next, and therefore also attempt to visual the journey between one ‘home’ and another.
After a full on weekend with Ben, I spend the week focusing on a solo performance I have in a weeks time at The Junction in Cambridge. I have proposed a piece called, 'Everybody standing around sniffing the platform at Hertford East where it always smells of urine'. This performance has been developed from its first presentation during a residency last summer at Courtyard art centre, its about the recession, still, and the universal smell of urine- global issues.
I say I have been focussing on it this week, but actually found myself strangely avoiding it and coming up with new ideas. I was even for a moment there thinking of presenting the current rural work within this performance. I always do that, try and get everything that Im working on into one performance, it kind of dilutes it though and I'm left thinking, okay I've presented that now, what do I make work about now? so, luckely and after a good conversation with Jenny, I have decided to preserve the stuff I have only just started working with, for presentation in a year and stick to the original ethos of this performance. It was afterall all there, it didn't require new ideas or any extras, I had just forgotten it and forgotten what it was about.
I have spent today revisiting it and refreshing it, bringing up to date and adjusting it in accordance to the space I have been given- a small office space.
I'm happy about this and excited at the prospect of using and re-arranging the genuine contents.
Further images from the first part of our weekend at artsadmin- exploration of materials and instructions. Setting tasks for each other and recording, filming or collaborating with each other on the outcome/response.
