I think today marks definite progress – call me shallow but there was something very nice about having professional art handlers collect my work this afternoon.
It was my first time. In the past I’ve driven, posted, carried and lugged work to shows. Today it was all very different – a quick phone call this morning, then this afternoon and right on time a man came to the studio and took the two pieces I’ll be installing on Saturday. If the work were simpler to install I wouldn’t have to see it again until the opening. And that, for me, is a really strange thought. It feels good, it feels professional.
For the future I need to think about packing/packaging (– what do you call it?). I’m so used to moving my own work around that I’ve never bothered with crates or boxes. It’s usually the lighter the better, so no wooden crates. However seeing my somewhat delicate work wrapped in some polythene and brown paper made me think …
a) is that sufficient protection?
b) where will the work be held until Saturday?
c) who else will be handing it?
d) is that appropriate packing?
Realisation – I WANT CRATES!
If I want other people to take me (and my work) seriously I need to take myself (and my work) seriously.
If I want other people to value my work I need to value it myself. I need to make sure that it is appropriately protected, especially when it’s out of my hands.
There’s also something about the theatre, the play, of being an artist that I miss out on when I cut corners and don’t really think things through. The logistics are part of the work. Perhaps some of what I used to dismiss as pretentious is in fact one stage of a whole experience. The packaging is important – yes a Tiffany ring is still a Tiffany ring if it’s in a plastic bag or a Tiffany box, but to be honest I’d want it in the box! So I want my work to arrive in the equivalent of the Tiffany box – an appropriate, sturdy, well made crate that starts the process of excitement and engagement (no pun intended!). When my work arrives somewhere ahead of me I want it to make a good impression. My commitment to my work should be apparent. I WANT my commitment to work to be apparent.
I’m at home recovering from a small operation. Yesterday I dropped off my application for the Mark Tanner Sculpture Award. Going over to the east end was a bit much so I’m going to take it very easy today. I’m not very good at ‘resting’.
I’ve got a stack of art magazine that I can catch-up on. Flipping through the latest Frieze (it was last through the door so top of the pile) reminds me that it’s that Venice time again. I can hardly believe that it was two years ago that I was there – so much has happened since then. Can I seriously measure my life in biennales?
Before I went to Venice I thought it would be a one off trip – a treat I could allow myself because of my inclusion in Pilot 3. Now I think that going to Venice, and other biennales, is an essential part of being the kind of artist I want to be. Not only that – it is FUN!
So, what kind of artist do I want to be?
Or perhaps I’m really asking what kind of person do I want to be …
This isn’t the place to go in to that.
In fact I think the kind of person I want to be is the kind of person that simply get on with things rather than analysing everything …
Watched a fascinating programme about a ‘lost' Caravaggio painting – The Secret Life of an Easter Masterpiece (BBC2, 11 April 2009).
-The Betrayal of Christ – I hadn't really thought much about Judas kissing Jesus as the signal for his arrest, perhaps it only struck me this evening because someone asked me why I think people are homophobic. Now that I see the Caravaggio painting I wonder if the sight of seeing a man kissing another man recalls the betrayal of Christ … some kind of deep-seated cultural memory?
I guess that history could have been written to purposely use the kiss as the signifier to (knowingly) encourage a suspicion of one man kissing another man …. I find it all very interesting.
I don't usually watch television – perhaps I should watch more, that programme was very good and very though provoking!
My Swedish sabbatical is starting to become more real – I am speaking to people about rent an apartment. I hope to hear something positive after Easter.
I love what I’m doing the studio. Fabric and shirts held up against the wall with various pieces of timber. Favourite things so far:
• pale blue velvet held by rough sawn timber batons
• blue shirts held by 6mm dowel
• heap of pale blue fabric that failed to be held up – batons still leaning against the wall
Thinking about investing in a better studio:
• one where other people don’t have to cut through to get to kitchen/toilet
• one with better light – ideally natural
• one with better walls.
Getting rid of the table was a brilliant move – it’s completely changed how I am in the space. I walk around more, I sit in different places, I move things around …
Life is getting bigger, life is getting better …
PS. Since writing this last week and not being able to upload it (my problem not a-n's!). We've learned that the studio landlord hasn't got the business rates sorted out as he promised last year. We had a notice from a firm of bailiffs informing us they would return with immediate effect to claim funds/goods to the value of over £4,400 due on unpaid rates. I hope that we've managed to redirect them to the landlord who should have been paying them and passing on the appropriate share to each of us. It's another reason to start looking for a new studio …
Really enjoyed taking part in the Pecha Kucha*, and I got very positive feedback. It was nice to have the opportunity to show some slides of work in progress alongside older pictures that I took with no purpose in mind. Going through my pictures I realise how many I take of empty architecture, of the sky and of the sea. Putting together a selection of 20 pictures allowed me to see some kind of affinity between them and what I’ve been working on in the studio.
Last week I spent most of my studio days making shelves for the box files that replace the filing cabinet that I had at home. Changing from an old four drawer filing cabinet to colour coded box files on shelves forced me to clear out a lot of old paperwork. The filing cabinet was so large that I didn’t have to think whether I needed to keep old invoices, notes, drafts of applications, rejection letters – there was room for everything. Getting rid of unnecessary old paperwork feels good, it feels like I’m loosening my grip on the past and getting ready for new things. The corner of the room where the filing cabinet used to be feels lighter than it did – both visually and mentally.
Over the last few years I needed stuff – a lot of stuff – around me. Stuff that shored me up, stuff that told me who I was and who I had been. Now I need space – space for new things. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that this sorting out and making space has come at this time. I’m very interested in something we discussed at the bereavement group – the idea of allowing (even encouraging) life to grow (increase in size) rather than trying to shrink the grief. I am fortunate that I have a life that I can grow, and I am very fortunate that I have good professional friendships that are supporting me. Life is getting bigger, life is getting better.
* Japanese for chit-chat. An event hosted by M2 Gallery; 10 artists/designers/architects are invited to show 20 slides for 20 seconds each. www.m2gallery.co.uk
