Nine Women

AUDIOBLOG – Please click here

The danger with a funded project is that you spend such a long time making sure you have the books balanced, promoting, marketing, networking and managing, that it becomes difficult to fit in doing the actual art!

This week, I’m keeping the fun in funding!

So today I’m back in the studio, all eight well-travelled bras have returned home. They are currently having a nap to get over the jet lag. I watch over them carefully, occasionally picking one up to examine its wiring. Some of them I think need extra wires so they hold a better shape. One lot actually needs removing and redoing because it is holding a very peculiar shape indeed. As I handle them (after over a month in some cases) I listen to the songs and ponder. This is why I’m doing all this. Yes, it’s good to be doing all these activities to increase one’s profile, improve the CV, and perhaps attract a little attention, but actually, if you take all that away, I’ll still be stitching. And I’ll still be singing. These thoughts that prompted this work haven’t gone away. But it is important to keep reminding myself.

Two artists are in my head: Louise Bourgeois, still, and those works she was compelled to make… exquisitely stitched and formed… made from her life…

And Grayson Perry, after watching his programme on Channel 4 this week (Grayson Perry’s Dream House) Julie’s house: “A monument to thwarted female intelligence”. My bras could all belong to a Julie. Every woman, one woman. The “nine” is becoming increasingly nominal as the project trundles on.

I’d like to talk to Grayson about his affinity with the “general public”…women particularly… especially those outside the art community. He’s great to watch. He has real conversations, intelligence, insight. He asks deep and meaningful questions but with the lightest touch. He shows genuine interest, is never patronising. I feel we could have a chat about bras and women and stories and such. If I was that way inclined, I might start stalking him, in case the opportunity for an exchange of views presents itself. I expect I’d say something fatuous like “uhu hu hu… hello Grayson, I like your dress!” He would be riveted by my sparkling wit and we would be best friends forever!

oh well…

Back to the stitching…

The latest bra (no 9) is a black one… not too worn, but I wanted this one to be black, so I chose it over the more worn specimens… I’m attempting to stitch used guitar strings to it, but am more likely to succeed in twanging my eyes out in the process. Vicious bastards!

By the time I’m finished, no one will be able to get a tune out of them, but they have become close to my heart as we’ve gone along, so there they are. They have become a little bit of my story. The uselessness of the strings once detached from the guitar, a symbol of my inability to play anything but the most rudimentary percussion. A link from the songs to the garments. A monument to thwarted female musicality?

This week I have released another song upon the world…

“Reputation”
Lyrics, Music and all vocals by Elena Thomas
Produced by Dan Whitehouse

AUDIOBLOG – Please click here

Time to regroup:

The six bras that went to Debra Eck at the 3rd on 3rd Gallery in Jamestown have arrived home safely, beautifully and lovingly packaged back up into the box I had sent them in. Thank you Debra! It shouldn’t be the case, but I hear of so many artists whose work has been damaged by careless handling that I am thrilled that someone has treated my work so carefully.

I await the remaining two from Sweden, then all “the girls” are back home. Eight. I have not started bra nine… I have several ideas of what I’d like to do, but want to see them all in one place again before I embark upon it, to establish balance, and avoid tautology. I say that, but I think I’m on a hiding to nothing with that one on this project, there is overlap and common threads throughout. Of course. But I think, in this case, a little visual repetition is ok. Think of it as a chorus.

The songs are nearly there. I feel a bubbling under excitement about this, tinged with sadness. Those few of you that have had the staying power to read all this twaddle, will know how much fun it is, how much I am learning from the process. I am as happy as the proverbial swine in the proverbial excrement! Oh I shall miss it!  At the moment, it is still too soon to be thinking what the next project will be, how it will come about, what will spark it off… but I suspect that these last few months will live in the memory as a peak of my creative activity. I hope of course there will be others, but this one has marked a life-change, a mind-change, a sea-change… so will always be way up there I’m sure!

Enough of that!

Practicalities:

Drinks and nibbles: What? Where? How much? and who will pour it out?

Meeting and Greeting: because the event is held over two floors this means I shall need someone on the door, and someone with the drinks.

Toilet paper: Make sure there’s plenty, and check the loo half way through the evening… clean towels, soap…

Seating for performance: Downstairs not upstairs, upstairs is for the installation, recordings, and bras and mingling….

Performance: Rehearsals are booked, and I will definitely be using a mic… my voice isn’t strong enough, and I feel better about the whole thing on the mic. My voice isn’t accurate enough if I’m trying to make it louder… better to keep it accurate and amplified. Have we got enough seats?Emergency chairs!

MC: I think it would be a good idea to get someone else to keep an eye on timings and proceedings, so that I can just chat to people, have a good time, concentrate on my performance and so on….

I can’t tell you how much I am relying on Dan Whitehouse, as much for organisational and moral support as musical. He is reminding me of things (or just telling me) and being really encouraging and lovely! I couldn’t have done, nor could I continue to do, any of this on my own. I could have booked another producer maybe, and another musician, but his friendship and unerring enthusiasm and support for this daft project cannot be bought from anywhere.

Occasionally, in the middle of some activity, sensing perhaps, a building tension, he will suddenly just stop… lean back in his chair and say in that vaguely Wolverhampton way, something like “It’s gonna be bloody brilliant, e!” Now, whether this is true or not remains to be seen, but it always makes me feel better… then normal services are resumed, and he tells me to sing it again.

AUDIOBLOG – Please click here

Forgive me, reader, for I have sinned! It’s been ages since my last confession… I mean blog post…
(Same thing some days)

I’ve posted a couple of things on Threads, but not here. I do like to keep this just for this project, and the more general stuff gets posted on the other blog.

So… The casual observer might think it’s because I’ve not been doing anything. That couldn’t be further from the truth! Alongside family outings, painting gallery walls, and doing the small bit of a proper job I’ve been given, I have in fact been writing songs, recording, and planning a couple more bras… But I am waiting for them all to arrive back from far flung corners of the earth, so I can review, before I move on…. Because, I have actually forgotten who they are! Terrible sin! (Hence confession)

We are getting closer to the end of the recording process, which is both exciting, and sad, in equal measure I would say. I can’t wait to have nine songs, finished, produced, sequenced…. All set to go in the studio, with the installation. But I must say, the process has been the best thing I’ve done in years. Thank you Mr Whitehouse, it’s been fab… But I mustn’t say goodbye quite yet, it’s really not over till this fat lady sings!

Last night in the studio was a tricky one. We are down to a few niggly jobs now. We do have Dave Sutherland coming back in to record some mandolin, and possibly more bass, and also Helen Lancaster coming in to play some violin and viola for a couple of songs. It’s one of these that’s causing the niggle really. It is more complex in its production I think than many of the other songs. It is more unusual in structure perhaps, is a little more theatrical. I want to send Helen a decent recording before she comes in, but at the moment, I sit here with three different versions trying to decide which one is the best, so I can re-record the vocal before sending off.
By niggly jobs I mean things like removing my heavy breathing from one of the tracks where I sang rather closer to the mic, up close and personal. It sounds like I have some sort of condition… these are bits of housekeeping almost.

I have a problem… I have twelve songs, from which I am supposed to choose nine. I have dropped one, but can’t decide which two others will go. I shall of course decide at some point, but I am currently trying to think of a way to include eleven songs into a project called nine women …shall I just sneak them in and hope no one notices, or cares? I may well decide that these women deserve to be heard and not cut them at all! Or perhaps choose the two that might start the next project, rather than choose two as “rejects” from this one, as that does seem a more positive way to go about it.

I also have a list started, of songs that can be done live on the PV night…. Oh dear…
Dan will be supporting me, playing and boosting me into a state where I can feel I can do it. Up to now, I have done one song at a time at the songwriters’ circle end of term shows. For these events I have my lyrics on a stand in front of me, and for one song, I have practised over and over again. I’ve done it, but it takes a lot of work. For the PV, I could possibly do six of the songs live. Some I’ve done before, they are simple and fairly straightforward, but some I’ve never done live. It would be excellent if I could do these without the bits of paper… No excuse and no barriers between me and the audience. With this in mind, we have booked a few rehearsal spots between now and July. I’m told by Dan, like exam revision, better to do a few spaced out rehearsals leading up to the event, rather than last minute cramming that will wind me up!
I will try my best!

Right, well as it is 1:00am and I have another eight hours in the studio tomorrow, I am going to try to get some sleep, but I have these lyrics running around my head…..

SOMEONE
Someone opened up my head
oiled my synapses
with thought and love
Someone opened up my heart
knead it back to life
no ache no pain

Someone bared
my soul to me
I’d forgotten it was there

Someone opened up my eyes
shone a light through the tear
Someone opened up their arms
I’m no longer safe from harm

Someone bared
my soul to me
I’d forgotten it was there

You must know what you have started
Life has changed since this began
I couldn’t back out if I tried
I’ll stay right here if you don’t mind?

Someone opened up my head
oiled my synapses
with thought and love

AUDIOBLOG – Please click here

Bloggers United
(From Arlanda Airport)

I know I’ve said before that meeting people you’ve met online is a joy!
When you’ve had meaningful exchanges about life, art, and so on, you get to know someone’s view of life.
I’ve met Franny Swann, Wendy Williams, Julie Dodd, Sophie Cullinan, David Minton, Kate Murdoch, Marion Michell, soon Sophie Boue I’m sure…..Ermmm…. who else? Wow! Loads!

This weekend I met Stuart Mayes, an English artist living in Stockholm. Stuart and I have been conversing over our blogs for a few years now. We have established some common ground and some interesting differences. When I decided I was coming over to Sweden I got in touch, just to see if it was at all possible to meet up after all this time. It seemed too great a coincidence to not make it happen. Stuart felt the same. After a variety of texts and phone calls, the timing worked perfectly, and we arranged to meet in the square in Stockholm old town. There we were, in a conspicuous bunch, waiting and looking out for a man I thought I would probably recognise from a photo I once saw….

And there he was!
“Stuart!”
“Elena!”
Big hugs!

It was like meeting an old friend. The rest of the bunch went to look around, while Stuart and I found a bar, drank tea and ate enormous cinnamon rolls. Delicious.

And oh my goodness we talked each other’s ears off! We chattered and nattered like we had known each other for years. It was just one of those things… I’m sure you know what I mean. We talked about the Louise Bourgeois show, trying to make a living, studio practice, the importance of the support of other artists….. And weirdly, people we knew in common! Small world! We laughed and we talked with an earnest seriousness about our work, the absurdity of performance and the different ways we felt about it.
All too soon it was time for us to catch our train. I don’t know about Stuart, but I feel we have unfinished business, and I’m sure we will do it again, as soon as either of us can manage it!

You’re not getting away that lightly Mr Mayes!

AUDIOBLOG – Please click here

We didn’t know what to expect.
We flew all that way, clutching our work for what was variously described as group show, party, event, and actually, more accurately, a “happening”.

People turned up throughout the evening and hung their own work, uncurated, other than “where will this fit or look best?” Nails were banged into the wall… Occasionally screws were banged into the wall… And also banged THROUGH work. My two bras were hung from the ceiling. I had said I would also sing. The rule was each artist could hang one piece of work, up until 9pm, when they could hang more if there was space. Everyone wrote their own labels and slapped them up on the wall. At various points during this evening of fun and hilarity I was pushed beyond my comfort barrier. Anyone who has shown work with or for me will know I am rather obsessive about how things are hung and labelled. For this event that was impossible, so I had to let it go.
What was fascinating was how the exhibition evolved throughout the evening. At various points it looked amazing, I’d go away for a glass of wine or a crisp, turn my back for five minutes then someone else had arrived and hung their work which would wreck my own personal aesthetic. But then after the next person arrived and hung theirs, curiously it would be restored and make a sort of sense again. It wasn’t finished until the minute when the lights were switched off and the door was locked by the last person left. Then it stayed up for the weekend.

Late in the evening, performances started… A couple of sound pieces, a performance involving a lace tablecloth cape, a couple of oranges and a tub of something that may have been nuts, shaken not stirred… Some things maybe lost in translation? Then it was my turn. You can find a video of my performance on Instagram and facebook. (As I post I am unable to link to this… I’ll have another go later, but wanted to post as soon as possible)
This is the first performance I have done live in a gallery. My first audience not made up of members of the songwriters’ circle, or the poetry group, but an art audience… I braced myself and dived in. I’m not totally happy with what I see. But I am also accepting of the fact that I am unlikely to be happy with the first time. I’m probably never going to be happy. Me, songwriting, exhibiting and performance is an evolving thing, much like the “happening” itself. So I let it go and put it out there.

Discussions were had about connections between bras and songs, and members of my generous Swedish audience expressed very positive ideas about me being the connection, that the performing me being the connection between song and bra. Having mostly recorded and played back in the gallery space previously, this requires some thought…
We talked of costume and props, both of which make me feel excruciatingly embarrassed and self conscious. More so than just sitting amongst the party detritus that was there before I was.

I’m not that bothered if you don’t like it, or don’t see the point of me doing it. It’s my own work and I’m following my nose… It’ll make sense at some point. Maybe.