ThE ReFLeCTiVE NaTuRE oF CoNScIOuSnEsS

My personal ‘spherical journey’ has taken me to some interesting places. Spherical objects are very tactile, but are also visually, mentally and emotionally captivating. The sphere is a symbol that has been used in different media since primitive times and there seems to be an innate connectivity between humans and the sphere. Very obviously the human head is roughly spherical and the rounded shapes of the human body seem to be associated with sensuality and sexuality. Through making spherical sculptural shapes, I have been aware of a meditative effect in touching and looking at them, as if a primitive side of me has a personal relationship with it.

My own spheres are of a fairly basic construction and are meant to predominantly arouse a visual interest for a degree show piece, rather than being highly crafted and refined creations made from pottery etc. In looking at the use of the sphere in other artist’s work, I have found that it features across the spectrum of art-forms. I have been particularly drawn to its use by potters, and especially in the work of the late Toshido Takaezu (1932-2011) a Hawaiian Potter of Japanese descent (in pictures above) (www.franklloyd.com). Toshido Takaezu was particularly influenced by her interest in Zen Buddhism which is an area I am especially drawn to.

Returning more specifically to the symbolism of the sphere (and the circle), Zen Buddhism views this shape as representing an important element in the search for enlightenment. Monks and Nuns would practice the art of calligraphy and practice painting the circular shape (The Enso) over and over again (zenpaintings.com) to assist reach the meditative state of ‘Nothingness’ or ‘Sunyata’ (www.buddhanet.net) .

Carl Jung also considered symbols to be of great importance to humankind. Jung refers to Dr von Franz’s ideas in his own work ‘Man and His symbols’ (1964) and states that,

The circle is a symbol of the Self.  It expresses the totality of the psyche in all its aspects, including the relationship between man and the whole of nature. (Jung, 1964, p.266) 

In a lecture to the C.G. Jung Society, Howard W Tyas, Jr., discusses the multi-faceted symbol of the ball and quotes the Jungian analyst and author Barbara Hannah as stating,

…I could say that a ball is a symbol of the self – that self-regulating center of the psyche and personality – and we could call it a night… But a ball, as a symbol, is as multi-faceted and complex as the self. (Tyas, 1999)

(Available at: www.jungiananalyticpraxis.com)

(Accessed: 17 March 2017)

As one can see in the pictures, some of my own balls are being covered in sifted soil, with the intention of making them look like large solid spheres of earth. One of my ideas at present, is to create an installation with a number of such spheres surrounding a wooden standing structure. The overall look and feel of the concept, is to convey an ancient and perhaps ritualistic / meditative atmosphere. (See blog entry ‘Rainschemes for Insomniacs / connection with Ritual).

For some strange reason my balls had come alive to me, maybe it was because they could be rolled down slopes and would seem to move on their own, as if they were independent autonomous beings. One of the spherical form’s qualities, is that it can be guided and sent off in a precise direction with a force applied to it. In his lecture to the C.G. Jung society, Howard W. Tyas, Jr., refers to Marie Louise Von Franz, a Swiss Jungian Psychologist (1915-1998), who discusses the sphere (or ball) in terms of its symbolism. Franz suggests that in terms of analysis, the ball or sphere in a dream can represent a person moving on in their analysis and the emergence of something new. She refers to fairy stories, where she says that the,

…hero follows a rolling apple or a rolling sphere to come to some mysterious goal. He just follows this spontaneous self-impulsiveness of his own psyche to a secret goal. (Franz in Tyas, 1999) (Accessed on 31/3/2017 at: www.jungiananalytic praxis .com/uploads/2/1/2/4/…/lecture_-_the_golden_ball.doc)

So with a new awareness and clarity around the importance of the sphere in my own life, and after a tutorial questioning my intentions, I set about painting one of my creations. I painted my first one black and then went about a Pollock like process of randomly splattering it with coloured-paint and sand mixed with PVA. The process took a couple of days, as the top needed to dry prior to applying further paint. It was then on a Friday afternoon, without any previous plan, that I decided to walk with my ball outside.

I feel the real ‘art’ in this venture, was working with the act of ‘not knowing’ and the fact that it was a completely ‘directionless’ activity. Once I had taken the ball out of the art building, I decided to follow impulses as to what direction to go in. At this point I was not aware that working in this way would take me into the middle of Ipswich town centre. At 57 years of age, if anyone had asked me to do this I would probably have declined, but by following an immediate impulse it seemed fairly easy, with little or no resistance from the mind. I considered this as an act of ‘spontaneous and unpremeditated art’, and even an act of unrehearsed ‘performance art’.

It was only after ‘my walk’, that a new tutor discussed an artist called Michelangelo Pistoletto with me and told me to check out his own ‘newspaper balls’. In 1966-1967, Pistoletto had himself walked through the streets of Turin in Italy with a very large sphere made from of compressed newspaper, involving the community and public with his walk. This walk was also re-created prior to a retrospective of his work, in Philadelphia in 2010. Pistoletto is viewed as a major contributor to the pop, minimalist and conceptual art movements (spiralq.wordpress.com, 2010).

Another area of art-theory / art-history, that I came in contact with after doing my walk and through discussing it with a tutor, was the idea of the derive (a French term for drifting). This was a concept created and practised by the Situationists and explained in Harrison and Wood (1992). They state that,

In a derive one or more persons during a certain period drop their usual motives for movement and action, their relations, their work and leisure activities, and let themselves be drawn by the attractions of the terrain and the encounters they find there. (Harrison and Wood, 1992, pp.696-697)

 The derive is only a very small element of the situationists complex philosophy and collection of ideas. Their movement developed after Surrealism declined around 1957 and they were considered a revolutionary way to deal with and live in the modern city (Harrison and Wood, 1992, pp.696-697). In some ways though, my unplanned and directionless meander with a large ball through the town of Ipswich, could possibly be seen in relation to the derive.

It was only after finishing my dissertation on Louise Bourgeois, that I realised how much she used the sphere and spherical / near spherical objects, along with circular symbolism in her work. I was genuinely astonished, as I had started making large papier-mache balls without giving the area much consideration. I think I had personally recognised the joy I had experienced throughout my life coming into contact with spherical-objects and in some way, I wanted to work with that sense of childish pleasure. I had also felt at a point of ‘creative block’ when I started making them as a stop-gap idea, thinking that they might help move me onto another proper project. It was only when a technician commented on my ‘balls’, that I saw that they may be interpreted as being rude and it jolted me to remember Louise Bourgeois’ work that had influenced my dissertation subject choice. This piece was called ‘Fillette'(1968) and is a creation by Bourgeois that resembles not only the male penis and testicles, but on closer inspection, also elements of the female sexual anatomy. I considered taking my own balls in this direction and it may well still be one in which they go, although at present I am purely seeing the influence of Bourgeois’ work in terms of shape and form.

In wanting to create large spherical objects, I felt at a loss as to how to do this in an economical way. It seemed that large hard-balls would be difficult to make, especially if on a budget and financially squeezed. I considered my options to overcome any obstacles. Options I considered, were plaster/cement finished balls and glass-fibre balls. Both these options felt unacceptable as the plaster/cement options would render them too heavy and breakable, and glass-fibre would be expensive and also very toxic to work with. Due to these considerations, I decided to go with a far less technical choice – of working with large beach balls covered in PVA and papier-mache. The process was quite time consuming, but once layers were built up with PVA, the resulting balls were quite durable.

This project opened itself up to me in many ways. The process of making these balls has led to me having to question what psychological and artistic theories are driving this project. Making large balls is pretty surreal and abstract, but the actual process of making them has been a major part of the journey. Psychologically, they have demanded that I step back from time-constraints. It takes about about 35-40 minutes to cover one ball with a single layer of PVA and paper and it takes 8-10 layers to give a fairly solid and hard finish. To deal with this I have had to psychologically become one with the process and enter into what seems like a meditative state.

There is a joy of working with a sphere, smoothing it off, turning it….. Part of the journey for me has been purely in the process of their creation. When making them, I couldn’t help thinking about Jackson Pollock’s work. Although Pollock’s journey of ‘process’ was the applying of paint in his own individual way to canvas; in the making of these balls, I could feel what I imagined was a similar process. It appeared easy to move into an altered-state; there was no real need to think too much about the making, as it became intuitive. As I write this blog, I even wonder why I need to do anything else to these pieces once they are covered in paper…. in some ways they are a perfect expression (at least to me), of the whole meditative process of ‘making’. I am reminded of Louise Bourgeois’ famous statement that “Art is a guarantee of sanity” (Kohon, 2016, p.35). Certainly as far as I am personally concerned, the making of art and especially the making of my spheres has been a process that has fostered a sense of meditation and relaxation.

Perhaps there is a risk in the danger of taking these spherical structures onto a further stage in their development. I am aware that in doing so there is a risk of ‘failure’. Whilst these structures are in the process of being made, I have a great excuse for not creating pieces of ‘failed art’, specifically because they are not finished. Finishing a piece of art seems to carry a risk of judgement by others (and myself). This seems especially true in this case, where I am thinking of them contributing to a final piece for my degree. Bayles and Orland, discuss the perils of art-making in their book ‘Art and Fear’ (1993). Part of my own problem in creating art is that I feel like a fraud and not a ‘real’ artist’. Bayles and Orland discuss this aspect of art-making and state,

“The fear that you’re only pretending to do art is the (readily predictable) consequence of doubting your own artistic credentials. After all. You know better than anyone else the accidental nature of much that appears in your art…” (Bayles and Orland, p.24, 1993).

This was my first experience of having a piece of work in a proper exhibition, which was held at the High Street / Museum exhibition-space in Ipswich. I learned quite a lot through this experience, as I had to put my work in a deep freeze for a number of weeks prior to it going up. As the space is next to the museum and run by museum staff, they have to be completely sure that organic artwork does not bring in bugs etc. that can be harmful to the other old and valuable exhibits on the museum site. This was quite a technical learning curve, but understandable and it gave me quite an insight into certain gallery procedures.

The work itself was a combination of beach finds (interesting branches and stones) along with various found fabrics and string etc. I consider the work to be an example of a cross fertilisation of ‘Land Art’ and ‘Outsider Art’, but in this case, brought indoors and into the gallery space, (although it had been standing outside prior to the exhibition).

I am drawn to creating objects and installations that have a ritualistic / shamanic quality and am particularly drawn to making art whereby I (as the maker) can undergo a perceptual shift when I make it. I guess that such a ‘perceptual shift’ is common for artists, but it is a personal area that I am exploring for myself. In Buddhist meditation practice there are various terms to describe ‘absorption states’, or jhana (in Pali) / dhyana (in sanskrit). I find that in my art-making, I can move into highly concentrated states of awareness that I find difficult to access otherwise. When making ritualistic type pieces, this process seems to be amplified, as if I am getting in touch with quite deep (and perhaps primitive) parts of my psyche. I also find that in this altered state, I no longer have to ‘think’ about what I am doing and am instead able to work from a predominantly ‘feeling’ and ‘intuitive’ place, where ‘thinking’ appears more of an interference. In this psychological space, it feels as if the ‘making’ is coming from the unconscious. In the introduction to her book ‘Dancing with the Unconscious’, Danielle Knafo states that,

 The artistic process does not lend itself to linear descriptions. The inspired artist relies on the covert and spontaneous activities of the unconscious, never quite sure of, exactly, what she is doing or what she will do next. (Knafo, 2012, xxi)

Essentially, this particular work could be viewed through various theoretical lenses, but one I am drawn to is connected to the Freudian explanation of Eros and Thanatos. I can see that from this theoretical standpoint, my sculpture is mainly comprised of ‘dead’ material. Obviously, few art materials are alive, but the branches that I have used were very alive at one point, as parts of a living tree. In making the sculpture, I have attempted to give these component parts another ‘life’. I have also joined and tied them together so that they once again ‘stand’ as a ‘new being’. Perhaps as the artist, I am trying to be god like, creating new life (Eros) from ‘death’ (Thanatos), or perhaps it is even related to a fear of death. In ‘Art and Psychoanalysis’ Walsh (2015) discusses the tension between these two drives; Eros which she describes as ‘binding’ and Thanatos which she describes as ‘bordering on disintegration’ (Walsh, 2015, p.100). Walsh discusses the work of Eva Hesse (1936-1970) in these terms and I can completely relate to Hesse’s slightly paradoxical feelings of being ‘compelled’ to make sculpture, along with considering the works she made as being completely absurd (Walsh, 2015, p.100).

Year Five of my degree appeared to involve a lot of experimentation with the darker side of my psyche. It’s a strange affair, making art; sometimes I search for ideas and become dejected, feeling that the whole process is just a waste of time and then something happens and an image emerges out of nowhere. The idea for this work came to me late one afternoon just as the shops were about to close. I was in the studio and a visiting lecturer was being critical of a project I was participating in, which involved making large fabric mobiles (a little like dream-catchers). She commented that she felt I was wasting time making these objects and implied that they were clearly not ‘cutting edge conceptual art’. As it happened though, making these was part of my professional practice and I had agreed to make them for an event which I felt was a fair idea, given it was the professional practice side of this that was important. I suddenly had an internally angry moment and found myself wanting to carry on this conversation by making some work to sum up my frustration. I managed to get to QD (a local budget shop) within about five minutes of them closing and bought six packets of condoms. I then went back to the studio and my ‘Wet Dream Catcher’ began to take birth.

I felt that this was a particularly edgy piece of work, and it came from a place of anger. In terms of making work for therapeutic reasons, it certainly managed to assist me channel my frustration at the time. It is only with reflection now, that I am reminded of Louise Bourgeois’ Tangerine Skin sculptures that she discusses in the DVD, ‘The Spider, The Mistress and The Tangerine’ (2009). Bourgeois discusses how her father would peel a tangerine in such a way that the resulting peel would resemble a human figure with breasts and a pith-penis. He would also then make comments in front of family members and guests that this was his daughter Louise, although then saying, but it cannot be, as she has nothing between her legs. Later in life, Bourgeois recreated these sculptures / collages and when discussing them, would still exhibit extremely repressed and angry emotions.

Although my condom sculpture does not carry the baggage of such severe historical pain, humiliation and embarrassment; it was created out of feelings of hurt and anger, and from the comments that were made to me. I feel that the resulting artwork was worth it though, and it reminds me of work by Jake and Dinos Chapman (The Chapman Brothers). Their art is often considered as being in poor taste and is generally quite edgy and challenging. I believe that like numerous works by the Chapman Brother’s work, it is an example of ‘Abject Art’, which the Tate’s website describes as being,

“Artworks that explore themes that transgress and threaten our sense of cleanliness and propriety particularly referencing the body and bodily functions.” (www.tate.org.uk)

Referring once again to Louise Bourgeois, her piece called ‘Destruction of the Father (1974) was another work, (although this time a large installation), that dealt with her own anger and rage (at her father). In this sculpture, she re-enacts a fantasy she had at the family dining table, where she envisioned herself along with her siblings, pulling her father on to the dining table, murdering and devouring him. In the ‘Return of The Repressed’ (2012), Melanie Klein’s own theoretical view of ‘castration anxiety’ is discussed. Bourgeois’ fantasy to kill and eat her father is seen as the result of the equivalent act of castration, but in this instance, carried out by the female on the male (Bourgeois, L and Larratt-Smith P, 2012).

Reflecting on the anger I felt when I was criticised for my choice of sculptural subject matter in the sculpture room, I can now appreciate that in Kleinian terms, I felt unexpectedly ‘castrated’ by the visiting female tutor. Also, perhaps I have been conditioned to view the female gender in a ‘motherly’ and ‘caring’ role. In this instance I was not only castrated but rejected by ‘the mother figure’.