Back in London …
Today I sent the landlords my notice on the studio. I’ve also started to sort out what I want to keep and what I can throw out or re-cycle. This afternoon I recycled two big Ikea bags worth of art theory – and it felt GREAT! When I say art theory I mean photocopies of articles and chapters that I read for my MA – over 12 years ago, I can’t remember ever reading them again – though the titles were still familiar. Why was I hanging on to it? I realise that I must have moved it around London quite a lot between studio and home moves.
I also greatly reduced the amount of paperwork I’d kept from previous shows. I had folders full of correspondence and notes regarding performances made in art centres and with groups that don’t exist any more. How many copies of a programme or flier should one keep?
Which led me to wonder if I should put images of very old work on my website or not. It’s been interesting for me to see what I was making ten or 15 years ago, and I can see a connection with what I made on the residency. But do I want it on the website? Perhaps it is worth putting up some images. So long as I stick to the reverse chronological order it would only be people who are really interested who would ‘find’ them, and, they would be there if I wanted to direct someone to them.
One of things I noticed about the work I made in Sweden was the connection to work I made before John got ill. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that there is much more similarity between the art I’ve made either side of John’s illness. The plates and cake tins from Sweden feel closer to the chairs, traffic cones and hot water bottles of older work.
Looking at what materials I had in the studio, after three months away, I realise that I had quite a few things that refer (directly) to John’s illness; the urine bottles, syringes for liquid food, plastic aprons and latex gloves as well as things that I ‘dumped’ at the studio when I had to clear his house; a blanket chest, large cushions from the day-bed, crockery, towels, a set of wire drawers. It feels like the right time to put away the urine bottle work and even the pieces I made from his shirts. It feels like time to get rid of unused materials that remind me of how awful things became.
John isn’t ‘in’ those things, and the John I want to remember certainly isn’t! So it is with much relief that I’m getting rid of things that are too much part of that time. John had an amazing lust for life, and in my own way I feel as though I’m regaining mine …
Open Studio & End of wip:sthlm residency
The Open Studio evening was good and I’ve had very good feedback about my presentation. It’s really nice that other artists as well as family and friends have said how much they enjoyed hearing me talk about the work and the residency.
It was only when I was packing up on Friday that I realised that the last day of the residency (the last day of October) is All Saints Day. It feels significant because All Saints Day in Sweden is the day when people remember the dead. It felt particularly significant for me because of John, and how my being here now, of being able to do the residency, is because of my relationship with him.
In many ways the end of the residency feels like the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. It feels like the start of something new in terms of my work. New materials, new ways of working, new ideas, new confidence, new opportunities. I don’t think I want to work with things such as the urine bottles anymore – they belong to the past. And I don’t think I want to ‘think out’ work before I make it anymore. It feels as though I can start working with things that I don’t understand, things that are just what they are. (I’m not sure what I’m writing makes sense but I need to write it anyway.) It feels as though I don’t need to hold on to things quite so tightly, that I can ‘let go’ a little and let things breath again. It feels as though things can live again.
And somehow it feels like the start of something new in terms of my life. Hampus came with me to John’s grave and that felt right too. Perhaps it felt alright because it was All Saints Day. Perhaps because everyone is visiting graves and everyone is remembering those they’ve lost that the whole thing felt more shared and less personal – and that’s a good thing. It made it easier for me to do something I thought I would find a lot harder, it let me remember the past at the same time as embracing the future.
I have a lot to be thankful for and it’s good to remember that.
It’s also good to remember that life is for living and enjoying …
Open Studio & Presentation
The studio is getting emptier as I prepare for the Open Studio evening. It’s only now that I’m really seeing the absence of colour – and the presence of light – in what I’ve been doing.
On the windowsill are three pairs of wooden candlesticks. Each pair is different shape and different shade of grey. They’ve been sitting on my table at home since I bought them a few weeks ago. They’re not quite right on the windowsill – too domestic, though very Swedish!
As the studio empties out the space around and between the pieces becomes increasingly important. I want each piece to have space to breath. It’s a pleasure to have space to work in, to try things out in, to see the pieces in.
I’ve emailed Jodi and said that I will leave the studio (in London) at the end of the year. It’s been a big decision and I think it’s the right one. I’ve been there for nearly five years. All of us who work there have talked about leaving in the past. It’s always been the other people there (and in the other workshops) that are the reason we’ve stayed. Having a ‘decent’ studio for three months has made me realise just how much my work has been limited by the condition and logistics of the studio. And while the landlord has us on monthly licenses I’m not inclined to spend too much on sorting out the fabric of the building. The particular studio I rent is one of the least attractive as everyone else walks (diagonally) through it to get to the toilet and sink, and the small window is at the end of a narrow corridor between the external and toilet walls. Why do I feel the need to justify myself??
To be honest the condition of the studio is not the only reason for leaving, I want to reduce my spending in London so that I can be away more. And conversely if, after being away again, I want to spend more time in London I want a better studio to do it in.
I’ve made a short slide show presentation and I’ve written notes about what I want to say about the work and my time here. I hope that it strikes the right mix of formality and openness – I don’t want to read a lecture nor to ramble on.
This evening I have a meeting with Alex and Anneli to go through arrangements for Wednesday evening. I’ve no idea how many people will come …
Stockholm Residency – ending soon
One week until the Open Studio and presentation.
I’m very aware that the residency is coming to an end. And I don’t want it to! I’ve had an amazing time – now I see that it has been exactly what I need(ed). It’s allowed me to open things up, it’s been great to have time and space – things that I find hard in London – to just be. It feels as though I’m at the beginning of something new.
It would be fantastic if the Open Studio leads to further opportunities here.
While I’ve been here I’ve just got on with things. Before I came I had an idea that I could re-invent myself – be a really dynamic ‘go-getting’ kind of guy, I’d confidently walk in to galleries and speak with the directors, I’d be at all the openings, I’d be out every night. I haven’t done that, I haven’t re-invented myself, what I’ve done is been myself, and it’s been really good for me. Coming away from London, away from home, has given me the break I needed. The break from old habits and patterns. Three months has been long enough for me to relax into being here and to let things evolve.
Before I came here I imagined that I might have a studio for three months, and that I would have a different experience to previous holidays and short periods here. Having a residency has given me so much more – it’s given me a framework in which to operate. Why do I even question if deciding to spend more time here is a ‘valid’ outcome?
And I should also say that starting a relationship with a Swedish man has been a major part of my life here too. Knowing that I want to the relationship to continue is focusing me on looking forward and looking for ways to be here, rather than falling back in to old habits and patterns.
For the first time in a good few years I realise that I’m thinking about what I want.
ps. found a wonderfully apt title for the collection of polished cake tins. I love it when I discover a word that encompasses so much of what the work is about, and the more I investigated the word the more appropriate it became! “GLORY”
Slow art …
Thinking a lot about the Open Studio:
• it’s an Open Studio NOT an exhibition
• do I show ‘process’ or speak about it in the presentation?
• how do I feel about what I’ve made/done?
• how many people can I expect to come?
• what do I want out of it?
• will curators and gallery directors come?
• should I ask who is on the wip mailing list?
• what about Konstfack/other art schools?
I hope that the evening is a success for me and for wip:sthlm. I’m anxious that my ‘slow art’ might not look much. The openings I went to last week re-assured me somewhat. Although the work was considerably different to mine I really appreciated the quality, and admired the way the work was presented. (Eva Löfdahl at Nordenhake, Worapong Manupipatpong at Roger Björkholm, Denise Grünstein at Gallery Charlotte Lund.)
Am currently settled on a very simple way to show the polished cake tins – propped up on a low shelf. After spending many hours thinking about it, at least one day checking out various shops for possible mounting schemes and devices, and a couple of days playing/stressing in the studio, I’ve realised that it just needs to be something simple. This morning I found some more tins – I should have time to polish these before I have to stop making and start showing.
Yesterday I had the polished tins leaning against the studio wall – the afternoon light reflected off them beautifully – it’s unfortunate that this perfect light only appears for about 20 minutes before fading. It would be great to give a time (of the day) to see the work – it would get progressively earlier as the days shorten. It is noticeable that it starts to get darker earlier and earlier.
Just had a wonderful meeting/chat with Karen Diamond. It was really good to meet here again and to have the opportunity to show her what I’ve been working on here. I feel as though I know her better than I do because I know her (very similar looking and sounding) sister in London –it’s one of my ‘tiny tiny world’ connections.
(The last two mornings I have woken up to snow fall! light little flurries of very wet snow, but snow all the same …)
