Setting the tone (or: ‘good art takes courage’)
Post by Anthony Schrag Part 1
Being the first resident, I feel there’s a lot of pressure on me to set the right kind of tone the Futures programme 2011 via this Blog: I was hoping for “conversational/witty” blended with “thought-provoking/engaging” with a soupcon of “intelligent/insightful”
However, due to the nature of both a residency and my working practice, you might have to settle with: lurching, unsure, cautious and bumbling. But, don’t despair, gentle reader: often the most interesting things come from bumbling fools, and our fumbling in the dark might give us an opportunity to find something new in all that blackness.
Personally, I’ve never been afraid of the dark, I was always more scared of the teeth of the monsters that I could see, rather than potential maws of imaginary creatures. But fear and courage do seem to come into this residency. Any opportunity to develop and grow comes with stepping into the fearful waters of uncomfortableness and learning how to swim again. .
Flipping through the notebook I’ve been using since I arrived here two weeks ago, I found a scribbled note saying: “”. I’ve no idea what that means or what specifically it pertains to, but it is double underlined with the force of meaning: as if there was a pressure of portent in that sentence. I’m reminded of the Marina Abramavitch quote: that which you are scared to do, is exactly the thing you should do. And while I hesitate to mention that (and her) in case it should prejudice you to thinking I am some sort of ‘performance artist’ rather than just an ‘artist who works in a live context’ (there’s a difference; a BIG one…I shall return to this in a moment), it does act as an interesting guiding statement for the Futures Residency: the future, after all, is a place only built with courage.
My proposal aimed to look at my generally ‘performative’ socially-engaged and ephemeral practice and its relationship with objects – those lasting and sturdy things that exist in galleries and museums. How do they exist as separate entities from their ephemeral moment? As my initial proposal asks:
Who are they for? Where do they go? How do they have meaning beyond the moments of interface? Are they relevant outside of their immediate contexts? Often, I feel that the ephemeral nature of my projects is sufficient and meaningful for participants, but I would like to examine how to transform the research/events for gallery-based or museum-context exhibitions. And even whether this is a valid pursuit within a socially engaged practice?
The excellent conversations I’ve been having with Residency Coordinator Matilda Strang and Curator Fiona MacDonald touch on the these questions, and during the two weeks of this research period I’ve read more theory and been pushed deeper into those unfamiliar waters than I expected; many essays have shot between our email inboxes; conversations over tea and cake (oh, so much cake…) and passing discussions in the gallery, all building on the framework of the questions in my proposal.
Some of it has begun to explore the between ‘performance’ and ‘live art’ in that (I feel) a performance (generally) suggests a history of theatre; it is something rehearsed and has an inherent power structure that requires we ‘look someone doing something’ – much like we look at a painting or a sculpture, regardless of its ‘liveness’. In contrast, I try not to have a ‘something to look at’ in my work: rather ‘something to do’ and have an open-ended discussion; a sort of democratic engagement when all participants (including and especially me) has no idea of what will happen.
As my residency looks into the Public Realm, I am curious to develop socially engaged works that are meaningful to a community, and specifically to the community of and around the gallery: Hoxton, Shoreditch and Hackeny – communities that come with specific sets of issues relating to class, racial divisions, poverty and a lack of social cohesion.
