OK so just when I was going to have a moan and do a post because there was nothing going on, I find a show at Sheffield Haslam Uni worth entering. Deadline was imminent so I rushed around doing the submission. My work is perfect for it so I'm hopeful.
Also feeling motivated following a particularly poor show I saw yesterday, Straylight Cavern at Cell Space. Just rubbish unfortunately. I'd read the AN review and was intrigued but should have known from the blusterly bombastic press release that it was a load of blather to cover up the fact there was not much to say. Poorly executed by the curator and some of the artworks were just shoddy, I'm sorry to say. Apocalyptic future, I thought (putting the paradox of that phrase aside for a moment), HELLO! Let me in!
The upshot of it all is I have more confidence and think I can definitely get away with it now. Even be convincing. Although, my art pieces never feel very tangible to me. Does that happen to anyone else?
I also attended a talk by Jem Finer at ArtsAdmin. Titled 'Performance lab' it inevitably had more of a perfomance bent than I would have liked, but the guy was interesting and showed us some of his work. I wish he'd spoken more about his creative process though.
On the Thursday I went to see my friend David Bray's opening of a solo show of his pen drawings at Stolen Space. Such accomplished work and a giant golden cock in a box, fantastic. Also some embroidered pieces that were stunning.
Well over a month since my last post, and it has been a strange one. It's been hard to summon the impetus to retain any offical creative flow, but an artist curator in Milan has shown some interest in my Flyover series and possible sound works as well, for an upcoming exhibition in Italy so I'm curious to see what happens.
I like to remind myself that inspiration and influence for me is ongoing and more commonly occurs outside the remit of conventional research and creative practice. Like going to the supermarket for example. Or being turned on to Richard Feynman's way of thinking through some great YouTube links a friend sent me. TO summarise, it's ok if you don't know the names of stuff, but it sure as hell helps when you're trying to talk to others about it!
Very strangely, a few of my peers and all seem to be thinking at the moment about diversifying into other creative areas (naming creative and comedy writing, plus what I call Money Paintings). Some for all too obvious monetary reasons, others purely for exploration. So the future fruits are a yet unknown species, and may involve psuedonyms for logistical reasons.
I have started an Artist Book (as I believe they are called); as you may remember Dear Reader I have been doodlling and think I have found a way to group pieces together cohesively.
Lastly a pause for thought to consider an artist friend who is contractually stuck in a creative partnership hole, trying to get out but caught in much red tape and need to earn a living. How lucky I am that I swan about pretty much free creatively, with purely time constraints and the wants of a small toddler to butt against. If I had to work in a certain way, day in day out, with someone I no longer cared for artistically or emotionally I would be very sad indeed.
(PART 2)
Regardless of personal motivation, Xmas simply forces me to come off the boil a bit, due to family commitments and the crazyness of the season. However, I'm newly invigorated by a load of illustrators I found on a little google journey that's taken a couple of weeks. My passion for drawing or doodling has been reignited through some very talented people, who are all younger and more attractive than me and seem to have this secret coolness that I missed out on. More importantly, they all seem to be DOING IT, ie working. There's so many of them too. It's so overwhelming but I'm curbing my doom laden instinct by just doing what I feel. Is there room for another? I do feel though that I might have a few commercial ideas that are untapped and could raise a few beans. I'm also working on a sort of artist's book, and this is another recently discovered world that already seems saturated with artists, along with typography.
These are all old passions that until recently haven't seen the light of day for years but I'm reminded that I really used to enjoy them, and rejected them because I had a big moral crusade that they weren't useful or practical. Anyway, I've got over myself now and can do the practical, leaving room for the beautiful and pleasing.
The remaining wringing of hands concerns just how to get all of this creative body of work (both realised and unrealised) to be cohesive. It's a little frustrating as the world seems to continually compartmentalise creative work so when you work in lots of areas where the narrative of contemporary practice is at different points, or overlapping, or ignorant of others it's hard to know where you sit.
And where am I heading? With another baby planned for next year, I will be carving ever smaller chunks of time for me and my work, literally forcing a jekyll and hyde approach. I've decided not to be too hard on myself, and just do what feels right, until I have more time and can reach a confident decision about direction.
One of my doodles says
'IT CAN BE ALL THESE THINGS'
so we'll see.
(PART 1)
So time for a little round up now of 2008, so much seems to have happened since I started this blog in October.
Christina Bryant won the Margaret Harvey Open, thoroughly deserved, although I must say that I thought some of the other works that made it in were of dubious quality, and I did not agree with some of the other judging decisions. I concede it must be very hard to mount such an exhibition and achieve any kind of cohesion. I went to the award ceremony and was disapointed with the placement of my works, and the general jumble of so many pieces on the walls. I imagine a Royal Academy effect was desired, but it was far too crowded for that. When the winner was announced I immediately started clapping (on my own) as everyone else didn't seem to know what the piece was. Much to my husband's enjoyment and my embarassment, the clapping was not picked up on, until everyone had oggled the piece, mad a two second judgement about it, then clapped as per society conventions. So I had my own little clapping performance piece while the husband guffawed behind his hand.
It made me think about all the different spheres of the 'Art' world, how disjointed and separate areas can be. Because some of the very respected photographers I know wouldn't have got anywhere near that exhibition, which had always seemed more 'local', yet their work is the very best in contemporary.
My funding for the nuclear bunker project did not get accepted, but things have been progressing so fast, I've barely noticed because I'm on to the next idea(s). A bit like records, they tend to come out so late after the work was recorded, they can loose their freshness. Now I'm all for percolation of ideas, letting them settle, but there is definitely a part of me that needs to investigate Freshness and Immediacy. Getting new work out there asap. Hold that thought.
I'm going to write a post-performance offload of the Headfuck piece I did at the IMT on Friday 12 Dec. I attended only two rehearsals, so I started a day later than everyone else and had to be the new person for a while. Soon enough we were all at the same point and the other performers were all very interesting people.
I wrote earlier about the score being rudimentary. I couldn't have been more wrong. It was the most complicated thing I have ever played, but, having said that, after a few rehearsals my brain began to assimilate information in a new way, and I was progressing toward success rather than the perpetual failure of the first attempts.
For just a few minutes afterwards, my ears had a new way of hearing. I was able to discern new sounds amongst the cacophony of urban noises on the bus to the station. The sounds had always been there, but I had become newly aware of their order and sequences as I’d been listening in a different way during the Headfuck rehearsals. This soon faded as my brain assimilated and ignored as usual the wealth of ambient noise.
It was a battle when performing the piece, in the sense that you were trying to listen to certain people (who you needed for triggers) and trying to ignore those you didn’t. Normally one tries to listen to the whole (including oneself) and play your part according to the feel, etc. And we weren’t supposed to be playing ‘with’ each other, but outputting purely what the instructional score dictated. Nevertheless, there were some quite nice moments, in the conventional tuneful sense (although this is not the point).
Having an audience made the duration of the piece contract, we'd been consistently playing it for around 20-30 minutes, I was concentrating so hard each time the minutes passed quickly. They all started shuffling around the ten minute mark and then settled again. Even the performers had difficulty knowing where the end was…but finally there was some applause.
