Keeping It Going

 

 

 

‘The best laid plans gae aft agley …‘

Keeping it going – or not. Plans for the past week have completely gone to pot and I’m trying not to get too down about it. Post ‘Push The Boat Out’ I was really looking forward to getting out and about and visiting some exhibitions – all inked in my diary. And that was as well as getting down to some serious reorganising in other areas – so many things screaming for attention! As it turned out, because of an emergency hospital admission last week, I haven’t been able to get to any of the shows or cross anything off my ever growing ‘to do’ list. I’d gone for a routine appointment, in the hope that ongoing problems with my right ear had started to improve. The opposite was the case, in fact – a persistent infection had really taken hold – I knew I hadn’t been feeling very well!

 

Back home now and recovering from a surreal few days. The pain in my right ear is under control and I’m feeling a lot better – well enough to write this blog post, for example! I’d been looking forward to using August as a kind of clear the decks time, a chance to tie up all those loose ends – updating my website, reorganising my studio space and getting 10×10 ready for the upcoming Deptford X festival. It’s mid -August already – I’m still not feeling 100% and all the to-ing and fro-ing to hospital means that this month isn’t exactly unfolding in the way I’d anticipated. That said, I’m extremely grateful for the brilliant care I received during my stay at my local NHS hospital – it’s ongoing and I’m very grateful to be in the hands of some very kind and compassionate professionals, all recognising that ears are sensitive organs and earache hurts! I will never take the amazing free health care we have in this country for granted and I’m so indebted to the NHS staff who have helped me feel well again.

 

So! Patience is the name of the game and as per the Burn’s quote above, plans are made to be broken – you can’t always predict what’s round the corner. My late Nana’s words of wisdom also remind me that ‘your body has a way of telling you when it’s time to rest.’ Though relaxation doesn’t come easily to me, I’m doing my best to give my body a chance to recover – to go with the flow for a while and reassure myself that not keeping it going some of the time is actually, fine.

 

 

It’s quieter in my neighbourhood at present – lots of people off on their family holidays – and the recent heat wave means that the usual frenetic pace of London life has slowed down, at least a little. I’m in a state of in-between as far as work is concerned, having just finished exhibiting my work in a lovely group exhibition, ‘Push The Boat Out.’ The show was curated by Harry Pye and James F Johnston, with Amelie Lindsay and included some fantastic work of artists I admire and respect. The entire start to finish experience was really positive and the exhibition definitely goes down in my book as a special one to be a part of. It’s over now, but here are details about the ‘Push The Boat Out’ show via Harry Pye’s brilliant Rebel magazine:

http://therebelmagazine.blogspot.com/2018/07/press-release-for-push-boat-out.html

I’m also sharing a short film made by Corey Samuel which for me, perfectly captures the overall energy and vibrancy of the show and the artists in it. Multi-talented co-curator James F Johnston’s musical contribution helps push the boat out even further – all very exciting! See it for yourself here:

https://www.facebook.com/harry.w.pye/videos/10161152803255355/UzpfSTczNjg4NzI5OToxMDE1NjYxNjEzNjE0NzMwMA/

Meantime, it’s back to the studio and to thinking about future work and all that that involves. A new challenge presented itself just before the ‘Push The Boat Out’ show began, which will inevitably affect the way my work goes over the next few weeks and months …

My friend has asked me to move my stuff out of her garage as she now requires the space; it’s looking likely that I will have to move out by mid November. I’m really grateful for the space she’s given me ever since we were given notice to quit the ASC studios in New Cross some 3/4 years ago, but all good things come to an end.

And so, I’m faced with familiar feelings – slightly unsettled and anxious, and acutely aware that a move for me is no small task. Far from ignoring it, I have to get to grips again with the reality of the huge mass of stuff I own which, on the last count, consisted of over 100 filled x30 litre boxes. There are also bits and pieces of furniture to think about – the 10×10 cabinet, a dressing table, my Nana’s display cabinet, various bird cages I’ve collected, for example – plus, of course, the inevitable unsold work which I’ve never quite been able to part with.

‘ … never quite been able to part with …’ is the crux of it, really and I know that I’m likely to spend time in the coming weeks fretting about the sheer volume of stuff I own. It’s that guilt thing again which so many collectors experience and will relate to – but something else has crept into the mix, I realise – that of age and ageing – which, much as I hate to admit it, means that schlepping heavy boxes and furnniture around is much more physically demanding and so, more of an issue these days.

Storage more often than not, equals money, hence the need to justify why I’m holding onto the things that take up valuable (and costly) space. If money were no object, my preferred choice would be to simply transfer the stuff from the garage to an alternative storage space. That way, I wouldn’t even have to think about the contents of the boxes and whether I need to dispose of anything.

It’s the thinking that creates the stress for me: how much do I need to re-address what I can/cannot keep? Am I in danger of having to let some things go, simply because I don’t have the space to keep them? – even having to address these issues can make me feel completely overwhelmed. And let’s not forget, while I’ve undoubtedly collected a mass of ‘fun’ daft things over the years, there are a lot of emotions associated with others stored away in the boxes – all with their own unique narrative. I’m more prepared now that the boxes are labelled, but coming across some things can still evoke powerful reactions; opening the boxes up can be akin to opening old, hurt wounds, unresolved issues – the objects acting as pertinent reminders of the passing of time – mortality and the fragility of life.

The recent invitation to take part in ‘Push The Boat Out’, plus preparing for the 10th anniversary of my 10×10 project in September has pointed to the importance of cataloguing and keeping things accessible. Searching for specific objects reminded me how glad I am that I took the time to label them and catalogue the contents of each individual box when I last moved. It was a long, laborious and boring process at the time I remember, but every minute was well spent and has meant that putting my hand on the things I need in the short term has been relatively easy. In spite of the many moves I’ve had to make over the past few years, I’m also glad that I’ve managed to retain the things I wanted to – it’s what makes up the raw material for so much of my work, after all.

Over the next few weeks, I’m going to have to be giving serious consideration to where I’m going to put the bulk of stuff retrieved from the garage. A large garden shed would inevitably dominate my small family garden, but the upside of this idea is already starting to outweigh the down: to be completely independent of anyone, to have free storage and to have it close at hand can only be beneficial. Commercial storage comes at a price and I’m not in a position to afford it while I’m paying for a shared half of a studio – enough of a luxury as it is.

Someone I know once suggested that I photograph every single item I own before parting with them – that having images instead of the actual physical objects would be just as satisfactory. It’s not a thought I’ve dismissed out of hand, but I can’t imagine not experiencing the joy of being connected with the real thing – something to hold in my hands, gaining a real sense of what it is – what it feels like, what it really looks like, up close – how it smells, etc. But that’s a whole other blog post, I think and I have plenty to be thinking about and getting on with …

’30 pieces of silver’ revisited …

 

 

I’m delighted to say that there’s been some exciting news about my ’30 pieces of silver’ performance event. The owner of the genuine piece of silver, one of the 30 pieces given away on February 22nd at the opening night of the ‘In The Future’ exhibition, has been found! To put it into context, this is what I wrote in a blog post at the start of March:

 

The theme of value and worth is very much at the core of my work, and the idea behind ’30 pieces of silver’ was to explore that concept in a real life situation. I therefore used part of the budget I was given to buy an actual, genuine piece of silver. It was an antique 1815 hallmarked vinaigrette (a sort of miniature pomander, which used to be filled with smelling salts or perfume, so that it could be brought out and sniffed when confronted with foul odours).

It excited me to see it nestled amongst the other items on the salver, unidentifiable to the untrained eye as something ‘worth’ infinitely more than any of the other 29 objects. Would people recognise it for what it was? Would it be the first item chosen? And if so, would it be because of its monetary value, rather than its aesthetic or emotional appeal? Or would it be taken by someone who had no idea of its value and simply liked the look of it?

 

Alongside the curator of the show, Rosalind Davis, I had been putting the word out in an effort to track down whoever it was that chose the antique vinaigrette; last week I finally found her! I met artist Alison Turnbull  (a participating artist in the ‘In The Future’ show) for the first time last week at a gathering at the Collyer Bristow Gallery. She told me how she’d been meaning to get in touch to say that it was her who took the vinaigrette – and that ‘liking the look of it’ was exactly the reason she chose it. Alison told me that she was attracted to it as ‘a small container’ and that its compactness appealed to her.

 

I’m delighted that the piece was chosen by someone who values it as an object of beauty, rather than for its financial worth – or even by someone who failed to appreciate it at all (as could have happened) and simply discarded it as rubbish. That scenario was a risk I was prepared to take; there’s always an element of risk associated with participatory work.

 

Incidentally, some people have asked how the people who got the opportunity to select something from the silver salver were chosen. The answer is that it was completely random. I hired actor, James Haslam, to distribute the silver: his remit was simply to approach people on an ad hoc basis, remove the lid of the salver and ask them: ‘would you care for a piece of silver?’

 

It was important to me that the person distributing the silver was unaware of who anyone was in the Gallery on that particular night. I didn’t want any favouritism being shown! And to make sure that the whole thing was completely above board, I didn’t even tell James that one of the pieces amid the 30 was actually a real, genuine piece of silver. The only person I let in on the secret was the curator, Rosalind Davis, as part of my initial proposal for the event – although I didn’t even tell her which piece was the genuine one!

 

James didn’t engage with the audience other than to ask them if they would like to select an object. His presence caused a bit of a stir: ‘What’s with this guy?’ somebody asked me, before approaching James himself to see what was going on. Other people gravitated towards James and hung around him in the hope that they might get a chance to take part, while others took their chance to help themselves to a piece while James was in the process of offering the salver to someone else.

 

There was a massive gathering of some 400 plus people on the opening night and navigating his way through a vast crowd was no easy task. James’ vast experience as an actor, however – plus many years of dealing with a diverse, general public, meant he did an excellent job.

 

Unsurprisingly, trying to locate 30 pieces of silver distributed among over 400 people also proved challenging. But there’s been a steady trickle of responses from people (and some lovely images sent in of some of the silver objects in situ in their new homes) since February 22nd when Rosalind and I started putting out calls, asking people to let us know if they’d taken a piece of silver away. with them on the opening night. To locate the owner of the vinaigrette feels like the icing on the cake!

 

Thanks once again to everyone who participated in ’30 pieces of silver’ – to James who served the silver with such grace & style, to those who sent images of their claimed silver in novel, in situ places – to the curator, Rosalind Davis for her support & enthusiasm for the idea and of course, to the Collyer Bristow Gallery itself whose financial support enabled me to create a completely new piece of work.

‘No Place Like Home’  – as part of the ‘New Narratives’ show at hARTslane New Cross Gate, London

I can never take it for granted, but each time I’ve presented a new piece of work which depends on people participating, they’ve done so in positive and thoughtful ways. ‘No Place Like Home’ is a case in point.

I asked people to respond to a ‘tower block’, uninhabited and stuffed full of fake money, representative of the many that have started to saturate areas like New Cross and Deptford. I invited people to take away the money and bring back something in exchange. The aim was to make this tower block a real home; strip it of its financial assets and transform it into an object of beauty, with heart and soul at its core. I hoped that people would fill it with things that they felt make a home a real home, rather than it being yet another investment unit.

Sure enough, by the time the exhibition was over, plenty of fake money had been taken and more than enough objects had been left behind to transform the tower block into something more homely.

Many of those visiting the show at hARTslane told me the stories associated with the objects they left behind. Their stories added to the feeling of creating homes as real homes; objects and the conversations around them put the humanity back, transforming the soulless cash cubicles into places of warmth, with heart, soul and conversations at their core. It was interesting to hear a fellow artist at the artists’ talk, speak about the cubicles of the CD rack as ‘rooms – giving us insight into the lives of those who resided in them.’

Pets clearly had strong associations with home, as several items such as photos of dogs and cats as well as dog toys, bones and cat biscuits were left behind. And there was an emotional parting with a collar which had belonged to a recently deceased beloved pet dog. Other objects left in the tower block spoke for themselves: there was an emphasis on home as a place of peace, rest and respite in the things that were left: food items, candles, beautiful fabrics, plants & flowers, herbs & spices – the aesthetic, comforting aspects of home represented in them. There were also items making references to children, filling the homes with love and laughter, hope and optimism, as one person told me.

At the end of the day, what is left becomes less important than why something is left; the collective aim to change something is what matters most.

‘New Narratives’ was a real joy to be a part of; hARTslane’s premise behind the subject ‘Dear London’ resonates with me and the ever increasing lack of affordable social housing is a subject I care passionately about. There was a sense of compassion and humanity amid the artists, designers and architects involved in the show, all of them acutely aware of current social problems and all doing their best, not simply for themselves, but for the local area and its residents. I learned a lot about creative activities going on in my close neighbourhood during the course of the show – secret, hidden hubs of creativity – all doing remarkable work for the benefit of communities at large.

 

 

 

 

‘New Narratives’ is the latest show to open at hARTslane, New Cross, London and the exhibition is a part of the hARTslane collective’s ‘Dear London’ project. Given my personal interest in the decline of affordable social housing, I was especially pleased to be asked to participate.

‘New Narratives’ is a group show which includes the work of artists, designers and architects. I felt inspired by the aims and objectives of the curators in tackling a highly pertinent social and political issue, particularly in light of the ever increasing homelessness crisis in the UK at large. A quote by architect Oliver Wainwright included in hARTslane’s press release really caught my eye:

‘Places are becoming ever meaner and more divided, as public assets are relentlessly sold off, entire council estates flattened to make room for silos of luxury safe-deposit boxes in the sky. We are replacing homes with investment units, to be sold overseas and never inhabited, substituting community for vacancy. The more we build, the more our cities are emptied, producing dead swathes of zombie town where the lights might never even be switched on.’

The issue of empty, forgotten buildings is one that stares me in the face nearly everyday en route from home to my studio in SE London. The area is becoming saturated with new-build ‘luxury living units’ and ‘high spec living quarters’ – large, imposing tower blocks developed purely for financial investment, with no consideration for the impact on local residents. Conversations among local people frequently revolve around how hemmed in they’re starting to feel, how frustrated they are about the many empty properties surrounding them and how sad they feel about the ongoing breakdown of communities – generations of families being priced out of the area.

 

I created ‘No Place Like Home’ in response to the premise of the show:

 

 

NO PLACE LIKE HOME

Take away the money and turn this tower block into a home!

‘exclusive’

‘high spec living quarters’

‘excellent rental yields’

‘the Build to Rent Revolution’ …

… these are just a few phrases taken from various magazines promoting new-build properties in the SE London area. Everything relates to money – the property’s value, rental yield, price growth prediction; there isn’t a single mention of these properties in terms of ‘home.’

Social housing has become increasingly scarce as councils and housing associations sell off their properties to private investors. Properties are left to become dilapidated and new build ‘luxury living units’ spring up in their place, many of them completely out of bounds financially to the people who have lived within tight-knit communities for generations. As they become forced out, communities become permanently damaged and eroded. It’s time to take matters into our own hands and create a new narrative around what a home should be…

This tower block, uninhabited and stuffed full of fake money, is representative of the many that have started to saturate our local area. They’re sterile, soulless and are invariably left empty, seen by their absentee owners as nothing more than investment opportunities to increase their wealth. And even if any attempt is made to rent them, very few are able to afford the extortionate rents requested.

In order to put back some of the warmth and humanity that existed before the bulldozers waded in, I’m asking you to take away the money and bring back something in exchange; make this tower block a real home – strip it of its financial assets and transform it into an object of beauty, with heart and soul at its core; fill it with love, warmth, messages of hope, photographs, flowers – anything that represents what you think makes a home a real home, rather than yet another investment unit.

You’re welcome to leave your items and take some of the money away whenever you like. Or if you prefer, you can make your exchange on Wednesday March 21st when there will be an artists talk at hARTslane from 6-9pm.

Kate Murdoch, March 2018

www.katemurdochartist.com

 

 

NEW NARRATIVES

PV | Thursday 8th of March , 6-9pm
Exhibition Open | 9-18 March 2018, Friday-Sunday, 2-6pm
Artists talk & performance | Wednesday 21st of March, 6-9pm

PARTICIPATING ARTISTS
Rachael Bowyer | Kevin Brennan | Cedric Christie, Benedict Philpott, Byony Bridge (flute) & Peter Paul Nash | Guy Forrester & Sven Mündner | Nayan Kulkarni | Maria Lothe | Pat Meagher | Louise Melchior, Carolyn Clewer, Tiphaine de Lussy | Kate Murdoch | Marta Nowicka & Voytek Ketz | Ethan Pettit | Fred Rigby | Margit Sbicca Mulder | Sigrun Sverrisdottir
Lucy Tauber | Jonathan Tuckey | Anna Versteeg & Naomi Shaw

As part of ROOM 6.3 / Dear London (November 2017-May 2018), hARTslane is presenting New Narratives, where we celebrate the empty, forgotten buildings in London and imagine a new use for them, a new relation between people and space, where humanity is at heart.
The show brings together architects, designers and artists who are invited to present projects and ideas where empty unusual spaces are reconfigured and used for social rather than economic benefit.