Project Me

This morning I collected the test print of the Ljusfältet booklet – it looks really nice. I am looking forward to being able to give them to people when they come to the show, and to sending some to people who can not make it here. It feels more more ‘me’ to send something real than a link to a website. Of course the two things are not mutually exclusive – perhaps I should produce a web-version of the booklet for my next website update.

Thank you Michael …

Art is wonderful. Michael Petry let me know that his installation Golden Rain will soon be in the permanent collection at Palm Springs Art Museum where it was shown this summer. This is great for Michael and I am delighted to hear of his success. The news, and timing, is particularly poignant for me. I was one of the 100 artists that Michael invited to make something that would be sealed in to one of 100 golden glass bottles in the installation. At the time that Michael invited me to participate John (my partner) was alive and we regularly saw Michael at the shows he curated for the R.A. Schools. Between being asked to take part and making my piece John died. The piece I made Letter to John is my memory of the night he and I met inscribed in to thermal paper that is the length of our combined heights. Michael’s news about the acquisition reached me as I was marking the fifth anniversary of John’s death. It is amazing and wonderful to think that a part of John’s and my story resides now not only in an artwork but in a museum collection – I really could not ask for more. I am incredibly grateful to Michael for his generosity and his commitment to his truly innovative and inclusive practice.

Before each artwork was sealed into its own bottle it was photographed. There is no record of which artwork is in which bottle (if I remember correctly even Michael does not know) and the bottles’ golden reflective surfaces are completely opaque so there is no chance to see the pieces inside. However the museum will produce a digital catalogue showing the picture of each piece so that visitors can ‘see’ them.

Preparing for the panel discussion that will be part of the Ljusfältet evening at the Wip:konsthall has encouraged me to think around the idea of ‘in between’. The discussion will focus on the importance of ‘in between’ spaces for artists (primarily) however beyond the literal interpretation, for example the places that most of us have our studios and show our work(!), I have been thinking about how ‘conceptual’ (?) in between spaces are changing too. The other evening I was on the train home and after weeks of not looking up from my books I had time to sit and gaze out of the window. I also had time to notice how almost every other passenger was doing something with their mobile phone (surely now a rather out-dated name for the device), one was reading a book, no one was talking to anyone else in the carriage but a few were talking to someone somewhere else, and no one else was looking out of the window. Technology has enabled the boundaries between things to become fuzzier – emails come direct to mobile devices be they from work, a friend or a representative of an unknown deceased person who named you in their will. Likewise silently tapping away on a screen in the office or studio might be work or it might be an online second life fantasy game. While the idea of the physical ‘in between’ space intrigues and excites me, the reality of the virtual ‘in between’ space, or at least the diminished distinction between ‘here’ and ‘there’, I find quite terrifying. This of course creates friction with friends who do not understand why I do not often answer my mobile phone, or why it takes me a few days to reply to emails.

As much as I want ‘in between’ spaces I also want places with distinct boundaries. Without these places and their clear identities I feel lost and confused -sometimes I do not know if I am in a train station, a hospital or a modern museum as everywhere seems to increasingly resemble a shopping mall.

To my mind the most interesting artworks are those that manage to be both themselves and something else, to understand the importance of ‘in between’ and at the same time recognise the necessity of distinction. Art is wonderful.

www.psmuseum.org/palm-springs/exhibition/michael-p…

www.mocalondon.co.uk



Ljusfältet part ii is taking shape. Birgitta has is doing brilliantly at putting together a panel that will discuss ideas of in between spaces and creativity in the context of my installation specifically and Stockholm generally. I would really like to be able to have sufficient command of the language to express myself in Swedish but that is not going to be possible. I hope that I am able to follow the thread of a more academic conversation in Swedish so that my (English) contributions are appropriate.

Writing a text for the leaflet that will accompany the show at the konsthall is proving difficult and time consuming. I have never been the fastest writer and now I feel hindered by a writing process that is so dependent on reading around my subject. I still enjoy going to the library, it remains an important part of my routine here however for very different reasons. Every Wednesday afternoon I go the ‘Swedish Language Café’ held at a library on Södermalm. Afterwards I often wander around the bookshelves trying to do what I used to do in British libraries – looking for words that make some kind of connection with the subject I am working on. My current lack of familiarity with the Swedish language makes this a challenge.

There is simply too much information on the internet. Something that I have always appreciated is that the process of producing a book – particularly before the advent of desktop publishing – includes a great detail of investment and commitment on the parts of both the author and the publisher. I am thinking mainly about academic publications at the moment. The fact that books made it in to a library gave them a veracity and authority that I understood, not least because I understood what a librarian was. On-line publishing is truly post-modern and even if I did not always accept it I miss the great casualty of post-modernism – the grand narrative with its clarity and singularity. I like to have something I can argue against or stand up for rather than a never ending collection of vague sentences that are always readily available cut and paste … this, if nothing else, is going to force me to become proficient in Swedish at some kind of academic level, in the meantime I will keep making trips to the UK to go to bookshops and libraries, and support them the best I can.

The current obsession with technology and the ability (desire?) to produce and distribute ceaseless unsubstantiated information is perhaps merely a phase we (western mankind) is going through. I am reminded of Lyotard’s description of postmodernism as a ‘nascent state’.

My practice is not global, my life is not global, I am not global. I am and I live here and now, I can call my practice site-specific and talk about my interest in social context or I can put it another way; my practice is local, my life is local, I am local – at least I am doing my best to be local …



Depressing but not surprising to read that London’s councils are selling off the family silver (‘Flashmob against sale of Henry Moore’s Old Flo’). I have often feared that Britain is collectively becoming like some senile old relative from a previously powerful industrial dynasty. Where is Ruth Watson when we need her? How about a series of London Council Rescue? She could suggest that rather than selling off their assets they should polish them up, bake cakes and get paying guests to come have a look at their lovely things. The councils (like some of the more sour participants on the show) might even find that they have a restored sense of pride ….

I am still folding away silver blankets – that and other demands outside of the studio mean that I am feeling that the week was far too short and should have been at least three days longer so that I had time to do things.

Received prints of some of the Ljusfältet pictures yesterday – I am surprised at the quality both of the print and the image. The pictures were taken on a small compact digital camera that serves me well as an everyday camera, however after seeing the quality of the prints my friend received (from the same printer) from her digital SLR I realise that I need to start using one all the time. It is time to have my own rather than depending on the good will of friends to lend theirs or take photographs on my behalf. In the meantime I might see what results I get from using my old 35mm SLR and asking for a cd of the pictures when I send the film off for processing. It could be a good short-term solution. Not only that but there is something exciting about receiving an envelope full of images that I have not really seen before … actually there is something exciting about receiving something, anything!, at all in the post.

Material things are important to me, they are at the core of my practice because they are at the core of my life. Often times the materials I choose are relatively humble and simple. I appreciate their honesty. That pair of ancient jade discs that I saw at Frieze Masters and memories of various other museum type objects (both precious and commonplace) keep playing on my mind. Out of the corner of my eye I can see some ring form baking tins – one polished, two not – I think I want to see them displayed as precious and meaningful things.

I am (almost literally) counting down the days to the end of my school term now. No matter what else I have to (or want to) do next year I have to have at least one full day a week in the studio. At least if I plan that then I change my plans!

27 days …



With Ljusfältet part one (as I now think of it) out of the way it is time to work on part two!

presentation of documentation

gallery version of installation

artists conversation

booklet

There are so many things that I would like to do, however I have to bear in mind the budget and, not least, how much time I can commit to it as the work load at school seems to be ever increasing. The four things mentioned above will be more than enough to keep me busy. Once again I am incredibly grateful that Birgitta is able and willing to work with me on this.

Perhaps I am a little too aware of the situation regarding the funding the project received from Stockholm City. As I write this I realise that this might be the first time that I am so personally responsible for producing art that is publicly funded. I want to feel confident that what I present (and how it is presented) puts me in a good position if I apply for support in the future – and also the studio too. It is too late to do anything about the problems out on the field and maybe that is why I am really determined to make the night at the gallery as good as it possibly can be.

Moving to a new city (country) is like starting over again and I guess that it is gong to take me time to build up those all important professional friendships which make so much of an artist’s practice achievable and sustainable. I feel very fortunate to have been asked to do the project in the first place, it is certainly a very positive way to mark my first year of being an artist in Stockholm!

One of the members of the gallery committee here is taking a sabbatical and will stand down in the new year, he suggested that perhaps I and another artist should join in his place. Yesterday I accepted their invitation. I think that it will really good for me to be more involved: not only will my Swedish improve but I will start to learn the kind of Swedish that is spoken by artists(!), I will get to meet more artists, and I will get gallery experience. There are some very interesting konsthalls (non for profit and publicly supported exhibition spaces) in and around Stockholm and the one at wip has great potential. It has been a good few years since I was so involved with Crystal Palace Artists and it feels like the right time to take on something new and exciting.

Do I believe in luck? Recently a friend (here) said how lucky I have been to achieve so much so quickly. Afterwards I thought about it again and wondered if it is luck. It was not luck that brought me to this studio in the first place, it was research and persistence coupled with a willingness to take a risk and holding down at least three (sometimes four) part-time jobs so that I could afford to come here for three months. Over the years between my residency and actually moving here I kept in contact with the artists here (not that that was hard work!) and made the effort to come to openings whenever I visited (again it is not exactly work or a hardship but it is a commitment and an interest). More recently I took the studio for six months not knowing if I would be able to stay longer and agreed to participate in a project that was anything but secure. Is it luck that I have a contract to share this studio, luck that the project is going ahead? Luck or just how life works? My ‘work’ as an artist is hard to define (not what I produce, I mean all the things that I do that sustain my practice), many of these things are ‘soft’ and informal and sometimes I get something back (rarely money!) but it is all work. And I am very glad to be able to think of myself as a working artist!