Keeping It Going

Time waits for no one…

So many people who write blogs start their posts with references to time – how much time has passed since last writing, how inconceivable it is that it’s been so long and so on. I remember someone once saying to me how irritating it was and I sort of understood what they mean – who cares how busy you’ve been – people log on to read your recent blog post, not to hear how desperately busy, busy, busy you’ve been …

That said, a major house move six months ago, means I have been – exceptionally so! – and it’s got in the way of me being able to manage everything in the way I’d like. I haven’t written here for a while and I’ve missed it, particularly my usual end/start of a new year post which I always enjoy writing. It’s a time of year when I like to touch base here – to reconnect with an artist/blogger community that I’ve now been communicating with for the best part of 10 years. Recent responses to an article written by Stuart Mayes, Elena Thomas and myself about our experiences of long-term blogging was a positive reminder that we’re still connected – artist bloggers from the past, as well as people who are new to it on the a-n blogging forum. If you’re interested, you can read the a-n Q&A article (published last summer) in the link below. Thanks to Stephen Palmer for making it possible.

https://www.a-n.co.uk/news/a-qa-with-elena-thomas-kate-murdoch-and-stuart-mayes-artists-and-a-n-bloggers/

I sometimes feel slightly evangelical when I start on the merits of blog writing but once again, I find myself so grateful to the artists who encouraged me to start on this journey. Yesterday, when I started the process of updating my website, it reminded me how thoroughly this blog captures what I do – the coincidental stuff like visiting galleries, other artists’ studios, outside art trails, for example. Maintaining a blog for me is a substitution for keeping a notebook. I use the space for recording new ideas, some of which only occur to me in the process of writing – ideas to be developed, talks I’ve attended, new artists I’ve come across, the research I need/want to do, the conversations I’ve had and so on – an endless list of information, hard to retain in my head.

It feels good to be back and I’m looking forward to a positive start to 2022 through being part of a group show ‘Still life with Flowers’ at Rye Art Gallery, which opens on January 29th. To accompany her solo show, (details below) Paula MacArthur has selected works by nine contemporary artists in response to flower paintings from the gallery’s permanent collection.

https://www.ryeartgallery.co.uk/exhibitions-events

‘All the Dead Dears’ Kate Murdoch, August 2021

The above work was created through selecting three vintage photo mounts. They were a part of a small collection that have been in my studio for some time. I’ve used some of them in the past, mainly as part of my ‘Domesticated’ series in which, for me, they highlighted the sense of restraint and restriction experienced by women, particularly in the 1950/60 era – fenced in, trapped within a world of cleaning, baking, motherhood  – struggling to free themselves from a lifetime of drudgery.

My choice of these particular ones for the above work was primarily for their colour. But the shape of each mount and how they worked with each other was also a factor in making the finished product as aesthetically pleasing as possible. Anyone familiar with what they are will know that there are gaps where the photos should be. They are reminiscent of the displays often found on the walls of grandparents and great aunts & uncles, each photo representing a family member – a tribute to their growing offspring, generation after generation.

I was drawn to these mounts with their gaping, vacant spaces at a point of trying to make sense of the daily Covid death totals that were read out in governmental press conferences. They were presented as if they were a mere statistic, but the fact is that every single one of those numbers represented a real person – a person who was loved & cherished and  would leave a gaping hole in people’s lives. All the dead dears, all the long gone darlings should never be forgotten.

‘All the Dead Dears’ was included in the ‘Silent Disco’ exhibition, organised & curated by Graham Crowley at his amazing Greystone Industries gallery in Wickham Market, Suffolk in August of this year.

It’s been a while since I last posted anything here. Life, with all its complications, has got in the way. Some life issues remain deeply personal – too difficult, too painful, perhaps, to share – or simply, I make a decision not to. This of course, means that a less real, authentic version of life is put forward but on the basis of nobody needing to know everything, I think that’s fine.

It feels timely that just a week ago I was having conversations with other artists about the dilemma of how much versus how little to share on our respective blogs. It was one of the many interesting questions raised around the discussion table, organised by Platform -7 Events last Tuesday evening: How real/authentic is your blog? is one that stood out for me in particular, largely I think, because I spend a lot of time thinking about that question.

Looking back on past blog posts, I’ve sometimes surprised myself by how much I’ve actually revealed about my personal life, but it’s usually in the context of how life has affected my ability to make art. Because I use my blog as a space to record my working practice, when there’s a gap, I feel the need to account for it.

My life has been in a state of turmoil for the past few months. Partly due to moving house and the chaos that involves, and partly due to a tragic life event for someone close to me. My mind has been on other things and I’ve found it hard to get into the studio. I often seem to equate not being in the studio with not working. I suppose it dates back to when I worked in various offices when not showing up would be noticed. I sometimes miss it – routine is important to me and I feel disorganised without it.

I often return to this blog when I’m feeling disorganised. Writing it helps me unpick and organise my thoughts – frees me up and helps me move forward. I’ll feel better I know, once I’ve written it and also, once I’m up to date with documenting and photographing recent work. Not getting into the studio and keeping on top of things frustrates me; I’ve been trying since mid-August, but haven’t managed it yet. Apart from when I was ill three years ago, it’s been the longest I’ve been out of the studio in a long time. Being back there again will mean that, as well as the actual physical space getting tidied, documenting the things I have managed to do will become more clear.

Photo credit: Barbara Dougan

In spite of not getting into the actual physical space of the studio, I’ve managed to work remotely and make some new work for a couple of exhibitions that took place over the summer. I was pleased to be invited to take part in the groving project, an annual summer exhibition, curated by Barbara Dougan, that explores aspects of Bury St Edmunds through new works of art placed in public.

The theme for this year’s exhibition was monument and one of the several questions put forward by Barbara in her brief about it was around what was missing in existing public memorials/monuments and whether there was space for ‘the small, the personal, the local.’ I believed there was and my response was to try and give recognition to local ‘ordinary’ people – those carrying on quietly behind the scenes, galvanised in their efforts to alleviate the suffering of those less fortunate than themselves, specifically in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic. The statues and monuments, the blue plaques and memorials all have their place in celebrating the work of the well known, but what about the unsung heroes – the brilliant NHS staff and other essential workers who went way and beyond what was required of them. Bury St Edmunds undoubtedly has its own unsung heroes.

I was also delighted to be invited to exhibit work in ‘Silent Disco’ a group exhibition curated by Graham Crowley. Photographing the work I made for it is one of the many things I need to do once I make it back into the studio. I’ll write more about it then. In the meantime, I can’t think of a better way to introduce my own and the work of other artists in the show than including this video, in which Graham gives a curator’s tour, in conversation with Rob Dunt (who runs the ArtTop10 art review website). Here’s the link to it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mFQQfM_xSUA

A link also to Unsung Hero as part of the groving project:

http://www.groveprojects.org/blog/previous/5

As well as one to the Platform-7 Events, run by John McKiernan:

https://www.platform-7.com/

As I said in my last post here, I’ve been involved in conversations with Elena Thomas and Stuart Mayes about the virtues of long term blogging. Our responses to some self-initiated questions were collated and published online on the a-n platform last week. We had a lot to say between us and one of the questions that didn’t survive the editing was around the subject of the advantages of long term blogging over social media platforms such as Twitter and Instagram. It’s something I’ve thought about a lot.

Writing about my work alongside making it, is something I’ve done automatically over the years. No sooner had I started to make work, I started to write a blog – this blog! The two have always gone hand in hand for me and I’ve rarely made work without writing about it. More recently, I’ve wondered, if I had my time again, whether I might have done things differently – said less about the work I’d made, allowing an audience to make their own interpretation of it?

I used Twitter as a way of promoting my work and getting it ‘out there’ and then, when Instagram was introduced, used it as a means of presenting images. Words were less used when using social media and images of my work stood alone, with very little background attached.

It clearly has its place – Instagram is massively popular with artists and has become the main platform for showcasing work for many. But Instagram, as the name suggests, is about instant gratification – see it, clock it and move on. Twitter is similar – a bit more room for comments and interaction but in today’s ever changing, fast and furious pace of life, even short exchanges about the work are becoming more rare. There is no doubt that social media platforms have their merits, but for me, personally, I wonder how much I actually digest in the midst of such a fast-paced whirlwind of images? How much ‘stays’ with me – and how much satisfaction is gained from the images alone?

Some would argue that good art stands on it own – it doesn’t need the trappings of explanation behind it to make it worthwhile. There’s undoubtedly a lot of truth in this – quality will always out and exceptional work, always stand out. But what about the pleasure of actually engaging with art – properly engaging – and understanding at least a little about the concept behind it? For me, personally, it’s infinitely more interesting to know something about the artist themselves and the thinking behind the work they create.

Perhaps this is the reason I was drawn to blogging in the first place? Sharing my work with others feels important to me as an artist and regular blogging over a period of time has opened up opportunities for conversations and debate around my own and others’ work. It’s provided a source of dialogue and mutual support and has meant being a part of community in which it’s been possible to exchange ideas and share points of concern ranging from very real issues such as feeling stuck and unmotivated to a more mundane question such as which type of glue to use.

I’ve gathered a pretty intensive record of being a practising artist through maintaining a blog here and doing so over a sustained period of time has allowed room for reflection. It’s meant that patterns have emerged that would otherwise have been overlooked, enabling me to reflect on what’s important and to recognise recurring themes running through my practice. Information about the work, the thinking that went into it beforehand and some of the emotions that came out during the actual making of it – it’s all there. Aside from maintaining a day to day diary, I can’t think of a more thorough way of keeping an account of all the effort and energy – the highs and lows, failures and successes – that goes into being a practising artist.

It’s nearly five months since I’ve written here which means that it’s five months since someone responded to one of my tweets in which I  promoted my last blog post, alongside the image above (a detail from my ‘Sweet Nothings’ work). Someone I don’t know responded by sharing an image of their own next to mine, the implication being that what I’d posted was crap. It wasn’t clear whether they were referring to my work or what I’d written – no matter, really – everyone’s entitled to their opinion. But what did matter to me was that, out of all the blog posts and images I’ve ever posted and then shared on social media, criticism of this particular one, got to me – and hurt! It came from a deeply personal place.

I did my best to follow advice from the small handful of people I confided in – to ignore it and not give the perpetrator the satisfaction of knowing they’d upset me. My allies were right, I’m sure, but it’s hard to escape the absolute glaring irony of this situation: that work addressing the serious issues of young girls and women being silenced and discouraged to voice their opinions should be met with my own! And so, it feels right to at least acknowledge the comment left on Twitter, if only as a point of reference and to draw a line under it. This space has often provided me with a place to park things and move on.

By complete contrast, I’ve been involved in positive conversations with other artist bloggers, Elena Thomas and Stuart Mayes, over the past few weeks. Elena and Stuart, like myself, have been contributing to the a-n blogging platform for a number of years. In the midst of a massive house move, I’ve been grateful for sporadic snatches of communication with them and the opportunity to reflect on what writing these blog posts has meant (and continue to mean) to me, personally and we three, collectively. It’s led to some interesting questions and responses and with the help of Stephen Palmer, a-n Artists Network has just this week published an online Q&A article derived from these conversations. We celebrate 33 years of blogging between us and the article has prompted a number of comments from other long term bloggers on the a-n platform since it went online. Rob Turner is one of them and his comment caught my attention:

‘The original a-n blogging platform was a nurturing safe environment for artists. People wore their hearts on their sleeves and much valuable capitol was gained from that.’

A ‘nurturing safe environment’ is exactly what the a-n blogging platform has been for me and I’m pleased to be able to share this Q&A article below, outlining my own and Elena and Stuart’s individual take on the benefits of long term blogging. It speaks volumes I think, about the huge advantages to be gained through being a part of the a-n blogging community, both past and present. Some conversations have already come out of it – our hope, collectively is that there might more to come.

https://www.a-n.co.uk/news/a-qa-with-elena-thomas-kate-murdoch-and-stuart-mayes-artists-and-a-n-bloggers/