Finding the thread

In a recent blog about Eva Hesse I questioned ‘what if the performance for Hesse was the making of the sculpture, (and) the involvement of the body in making the objects?’ This question has brought me to research Karla Black’s method of working and to the psychoanalyst Melanie Klein, as Black cites Klein’s ‘play technique’ as a contextual source. This technique allowed Klein to analyse very young children through their negotiation of the physical world rather than through language. Klein developed post-Freudian theories through the observation of babies and very young children with their relationship to objects (which included people). Freud used dreams and symbols in adults to examine unconscious desires and Klein used the play technique, which she saw as intuitive, pre-linguistic and in a constant state of development.

Part of Klein’s main theory was how the child developed through the weaning process where the child has to face losses in external reality. She thought that the child at this time responds with manic defences but gradually gains contact with reality in a new way. Creativity, she saw, is developed as an attempt to recreate an external and internal world as a result of mourning.

Objects are initially understood by the infant by their functions and are termed ‘part objects’. The breast that feeds the hungry infant is the ‘good breast’ and the hungry infant that finds no breast is in relation to the ‘bad breast’. The relationship between the infant and the object is a complex one, with the object (the mother) being needed by the child to sooth all anxieties. But, as Klein argued, envy can develop, not only when the infant is not soothed satisfactorily, but even after an experience of a ‘good feed’ as the child starts become aware of her own lack. With a good enough ‘facilitating environment’ part object functions eventually transform into a comprehension of whole objects.

My reaction to this is that maybe that many artists are still involved in this process of transformation and that it is a continuing development and exchange between the external and internal world.

Feeling a bit better about things after this weekend. I went to the opening of the Creekside Open in Deptford on Saturday afternoon, which was a really positive experience. The exhibition, which was selected by Phyllida Barlow, was probably the best that I’ve been luckily involved in and I was overwhelmed with the quality of work. It was also very well curated. I’ve never been to an opening where so many people have turned up….lots of the work disappeared under a mass of bodies at one point. I’m not sure if it’s always like this but the gallery was mentioned on the Culture Show a couple of weeks ago. I really wanted to speak to Phyllida but there were too many other people wanting to do the same.

When I came down to drop the work off the week before I’d gone to see Tracey Emin at the Hayward which I thought was emphatically curated and instead of this loud, screwed up Tracey who has featured in the media, she came across as sensitive and vulnerable. There were lots of works that I’d not seen before and some of the sculptural work she’s done was fantastic. In the large room upstairs the mix of whites, neon and natural materials was really impressive. It was probably the best curating that I’d seen for a while. I’m not that keen on paying for exhibitions but I was in there for a ages and definitely got value for money.

I also went to see Fred Sandback at the Whitechapel, which I was excited about because I’d been a fan for a long time, but it was actually quite disappointing. I was in and out of the exhibition in about 5 mins. They had only given over one room and filled it was a massive work, which really needed to be in a bigger space. This insensitivity really spoiled it and it made me realise how important the space is around the work. There were some little sculptures that were made directly onto the exposed brickwork of the gallery, which were lovely and almost invisible. A stark contrast to the black threaded triangle that dominated the room.

I’ve been doing lots of work in the studio recently that’s not been working out or has not been producing the results I’m wanting. This normally gets me frustrated but I’ve come to realise that this is all part of my process when making work. There has to be a starting point: an action plan, hitting the grand verb ‘to make’ with astonishing gravitas. Then there’s the excitement of the activity, getting the materials together and then starting the work. The disappointment usually comes when I’m in the process because how can something that’s been formulated in your mind ever live up to the expectations? Is the process then a series of try-outs, failures, re-identification and compromise? The perfection of the idea having to stay trapped in the vitrine of the mind.

But I’ve come to realise that this is what makes it all so fresh and exciting, as is it the impossibility of translating the ideas into the materiality of the real, as we all have our own individual viewpoints on life. Learning to be objective, about yourself and your work, should be intrinsic to your practice. As an ongoing process this criticality should provide the fuel for motivation to continue your investigation, in whichever form that may take.

Being objective only works though if it is combined with the action part; the making. During the making process another type of process takes over, a more intuitive one. This allows decisions to be made based on the materiality, form, structure and other aesthetic judgements. It is a pre-language state.

My art practice then swings between the two conditions; the making and the thinking. Actually there’s also another stage, rest. Vitally important in a practice, either by physically resting or by distance, to mentally and emotionally take yourself away from it all.

Where does the ‘finished piece’ come in to the equation though? I have no idea but it doesn’t happen very often and I may have to spend many hours making and thinking. Which I might appreciate a bit more knowing that this is how I work.

I think I’m to have a bit of a moan about money in this blog. I’m sure that it’s quite a blogged about subject especially the lack of it but that’s not the main reason for this though, it’s the expense involved when you’re an artist.

I’ve received confirmation last week about one of my drawings getting into the Creekside open exhibition in London in June, which is fantastic, but I’ve just reckoned up and its going to cost me about £300 to be involved in the exhibition. There’s the travelling to it 3 times to drop/pick the work up and attend the opening, the entry fee, the framing, etc. Of course I don’t have to spend all that money, I don’t have to attend the opening and I could get a courier service to transport the work but I kind of want to do it this way. I’m not a huge fan of ‘networking’ (what ever than really means) but understand the importance of showing your face sometimes. I’m not that keen on private views because they sometimes can attract a right weird bunch of people (my experience) and there’s nothing worse than someone who does rubbish work bleating on about how busy they are with their next (self fuelled) project. Anyway, babbling on……

The Creekside open exhibition has been selected by Phyllida Barlow and I really want to meet her, I think her work is fantastic. She came to Sheffield Hallam uni to do a talk a few years ago and she really inspired me. I remember her saying that when her kids were growing up (she has four) she used to put them to bed then go into her studio (at the bottom of the garden) and just make, and let this making be the release of the day’s events and she also said how important it was to have this private space. It’s wonderful when you have this moment of engagement when somebody says something that you feel connected with, especially when it’s someone as fantastic as Phyllida Barlow.

I also went into a bit of a panic because the drop off day is a Friday and that meant that I’d have to get the kids looked after, but thank god for my mum who’s having them on that day. This leads me into another gripe I have…we know how extraordinarily hard it is anyway for graduates/ emerging artists to develop a practice (and the looming cuts to creative funding)but it’s even more difficult when you have the constraints of children. But its even more difficult when you’re a single parent (like me) trying to balance kids and practice, and before anyone gets their violin out, I try to live by the ethos that you just have to deal with your given lot and produce work that fits in with your constraints.

This has been working quite well for me because I’ve been doing work whichI could do at home: animations, drawing etc with minimal expense, and minimal effort when applying for festivals etc. Now with having my studio I want to go back to making sculpture. This throws up the things about cost of materials and how these could get exhibited. There’s no way that I would be bombing around the country with a car full of sculptures! So even though I’ve got the desire to make again and the space should I just be making for makings sake or should I progress with the belief that maybe these sculptures would be exhibited locally (ish) with no great expenses for transportation and needing childcare?

There is a fantastic contemporary art scene in Sheffield and until I actually start to make some 3d work I’m not going to actually know am I? Note to myself…just get on with it!