University Campus Suffolk

Then there was the lecture and tutorial with Fred Mann. This was extremely helpful; not only did he go into great detail about gallery systems and how to make an artwork marketable, but he also gave me a good deal of advice regarding my own working process.

The thing he picked up on was my current lack of regulation when it comes to collecting. He said that I need a set of rules and a structure to follow in order for me to narrow it all down. By finding a specific method of editing that’s personal to me, I can use a set of guidelines that will then instruct the work. Then once I have established a system that controls the collections, the predetermined process will hopefully help define the artwork. He also highlighted the significance of titles – something that I already know has potential to enhance the conceptual aspects of a work; this is something that I am keen to explore and utilise within future work.

The last piece of advice he gave me was regarding the visuals of an installation- he tried to stress the importance of a sleek, almost minimalistic aesthetic – I need to think carefully about every single object in the collection- does it really need to be there- how would the artwork fare if it was taken out? These are the questions I need to be asking throughout this on-going process, for if an installation is cluttered, unordered and haphazard it will be viewed as a purposeful decision – it will affect how the piece is read conceptually.

One of the artists he suggested for me to look at was Ceal Floyer. The Lisson Gallery sums up her working process- “Floyer’s clarity of thought and the elegantly concise presentation of her ideas resonate through all areas of her practice. The deceptive simplicity of the work is informed by Floyer’s particular sense of humour and an awareness of the absurd. Through subtle interventions with everyday objects such as rubbish bags filled with air, cash register receipts or a Tammy Wynette song, Floyer uses double-takes and shifting points of view to force the viewer to renegotiate their perception of the world.” So I can relate to this, it seems to me her work (like mine) revolves around association and context; through altering the object’s context and our perception of those objects she is able to communicate her own personal connection with the everyday world. Her simplicity and clear artistic viewpoint is why I think Fred wanted me to look at her work. Her process is well-defined, she has a relationship with the objects she chooses and is sure about the reasons for wanting to use them. I personally love the seemingly uncomplicated process behind the Helix pieces- she has a very simple rule when extracting items from the world around her- if the object fits within the circular structure of the drawing template it is subsequently used within the artwork, the items are then connected due to their physical characteristics.

So much has happened within the last couple of days. We had a lecture by Martin Parr on Wednesday and then had a seminar and tutorials with Fred Mann (of Fred Gallery, London) on Thursday last week.

Firstly, Martin Parr’s talk helped me to clarify something critical within my own working practice; he touched upon something I have been wondering about for a while, which is this intriguing yet elusive issue of multiples and repetition. It is obvious from his work that he is also interested in visual multiplicity, and he is also an obsessive collector.

His prolific photographic career has spanned many years and his work, amongst other things, highlights the irony and humour of British culture. I am really interested in this element of accessibility- everyone, not just ‘arty’ people can appreciate his work- they can familarize with it- see themselves within it. The majority of his work consists of compiling images (his own and other people’s) into photographic books. Interestingly enough, he compares the physical process of taking photos to that of collecting. “By applying some order to our chaotic world, and assembling things into categories and ultimately into a book or show, I can make a more coherent statement about my relationship to the world.” Parr (2008, p:3 Objects). It was only last week that I decided to explore in more depth the medium of photography. It is a cheap, accessible way of collecting a large number of everyday images – objects but in a 2D format. So I am able to achieve this element of repetition without having to spend a great deal of time and money on a large number of associated objects.

One piece of work that particularly stood out for me was Parking Spaces. This compilation of photographs depicts some of the last car parking spaces in 41 different countries. Like Jitish Kallat’s shirt pockets, each image is full of narrative and intrigue, and when put together in the context of a book, one next to another, the viewer (or reader) has the pleasure of comparing them and seeing them as a whole; this all results in a collective story full of variation and visual curiosity. When answering a question on how to distinguish a rubbish photo from a good one, he mentions the significance of a repeated image within a conceptual framework; “You can get away within a conceptual project with weaker photographs whereby if you take them on their own they’re not very good, but if you put ten of them together they make sense, like the parking spaces for example.” But the question still echoes in my mind – why? Why does it make sense if there are 10 images as opposed to just one?

Just before Christmas I attempted to combine all of these thoughts mentioned in the last post, within an artwork about personal heritage and ‘bloodlines’. It was actually more of an experiment with how objects can be displayed within a space, but at the same time was also a chance for me to communicate a very personal, autobiographical narrative. The artwork represents my family and where I come from. I wanted to create a piece that started from the beginning- my biological make-up so to speak. The maternal and paternal sides of my family are very dissimilar in their heritage. My father comes from a farming background, he is one of seven and my grandfather at one stage worked the land solely with the use of horsepower. In contrast to this, my grandmother, on my mother’s side comes from a more sophisticated family that had staff within their London household when she was a child. I am proud of this divergent personal history- I am proud that two very different, opposing social classes are combined within my blood. I am the person I am due to this historical social juxtaposition.

I thought long and hard about the objects I wanted to use to represent these two contrasting aspects of my family. The easy decision was the tree, I know it is a very literal representation but I needed an obvious, easily understandable foundation from which the objects could be better appreciated and interpreted. Due to the fact that the tree is a widely recognised symbolic representation of a family structure, the objects had a better chance of being understood within this context. It all reverts back to this issue of association- (something that arises frequently within my work).

Anyway, in attempt to try to communicate what I wanted from this piece, I needed two differing types of objects that would be fairly equal in size and weight (for I did not want the material to differ to such an extent that it would be unbalanced in anyway). The items needed to be appreciated not only for their visual qualities but their underlying, semiotic values too. The viewer should be able to look further into what is being displayed- they should be able to grasp a more complex story from the otherwise simplistic array of objects. Having said this, the visuals are also important to me- I wanted something that would be delicate but strong, catch the light and look aesthetically interesting when hanging from the white branches. Cornelia Parker and her installations are a great inspiration to me– although we are discouraged from thinking about an installation’s aesthetics alone, I can’t help but be drawn to the visual qualities of Parker’s work, (along with many other aspects of it too). She marries together a unique, complex artistic strategy with a beauty and visual intensity, which results in an overall thought-provoking yet simple artwork. I could only hope to strive towards such a flawless fusion within my own work.

So after a great deal of consideration, I made the decision to use a collection of silver plated cutlery and original, antique horse brasses. They seemed, to me, completely apt in their portrayal of class and history, but also seemed to resonate with me for personal reasons too. The very idea of silver service brings to mind the upper hierarchy of British culture; the grand dinner parties, the wealth and the exclusive traditions. And then there is the aesthetic elegance of each individual knife or beautifully ornate fork. This is only highlighted further when it’s visually compared to the sturdy, more crude horse brasses. The brasses symbolise the hard, physical labour of the working, classes and farming culture. They are unsophisticated, roughly made, yet decorative pieces of metal that once embellished the harnesses of heavy horses that worked the land so many years ago. Both types of objects hanging within the context of the artwork represent two very different aspects of British history, but through combining them within this framework, they become reflective of me and where I come from- my own personal story.

I have not settled on a title for this piece yet. One part of my process which I need to take my time on is thinking about the right titles to use. Sometimes they are really clever and hit the nail on the head and really add another dimension to the work, but in order for them to do so – I need to think about them carefully for a while.

So bringing together autobiographical content with the process of collecting, organising and displaying objects is my current challenge. I need to find the balance between the two major elements of ‘concept’ and ‘process’.

SELECTION

In order for me to represent a sense of autobiography, do I use existing collections of objects that surround me on a daily basis, or do I intentionally seek out otherwise irrelevant items that resonate with me for particular reasons? Obviously I can do both, but this issue of selection seems to be a re-occurring obstacle which requires further thought and experimentation. At this stage, it seems like it would be a boringly literal form of self-portrayal, if I was to simply display an array of personal effects within an installation or ‘gallery’ like space. Although this would definitely be self-referential, I feel that it would be somewhat lacking in process. Could the objects be appreciated for more than just my ownership of them?

Yes, I am already surrounded by existing collections of objects that would communicate a sense of identity, for example; knickers, teacups, feathers that I found interesting on walks with the dog, photos, letters, coins and foreign currency I collected as a child, old birthday cards, jewellery, etc. Admittedly, all these things would convey a sense of personality, time, memory and possibly more, because they belong to me. But, could the limited process of simply taking an object, or collection of objects out of a personal context and placing them within an artistic one, allow the viewer to appreciate more than just ownership and belonging? Is it too literal or obvious?

This line of enquiry makes me think of Tracey Emin’s My Bed, (an artwork I referenced in my dissertation). As far as the viewer is concerned, Emin did not physically change the objects in anyway- the main element of alteration occurred within the bed’s context. Each thing (the vodka bottle, the skin coloured tights, the packets of contraceptive, etc.) collectively portray an autobiographical content, you cannot deny the object’s authenticity, but the point of interest is that other narratives and underlying emotions can be read from the piece; human fragility and weakness, private actions and secret thoughts; the viewer can appreciate more than the simple fact that they belong to her. We as observers can notice things in ourselves, moments from our own lives that can be remembered as a result of looking at this intimate scene.

In trying to relate this to my own working practice, I laid out some of the collections mentioned above- (the coins, and knickers). In attempt to stay true to the idea of multiplicity and repetition, I feel that the collections just aren’t extensive enough to have any real impact; I think they would only work if the amount was at least quadrupled. Then there is the issue of how to display the objects- I am sure I can make a more successful installation that consisted of such items if they were presented in an interesting way. Even though the tutors keep stressing that I shouldn’t be thinking of the degree show or any ‘end pieces’, I can’t help but want to experiment with how the collections are presented- isn’t this what the medium of installation is all about- working within a space?- Using the dynamics of a space together with its chosen contents to communicate a concept? How can I move forward with my installations if I do not investigate this issue of presentation and display?

Having said that- my first blog was on the 9^th– it’s now the 15^thFebruary! Time just slips away and before you know it a whole week has gone by and the blog still awaits its next post!

So, I think I should begin by briefly summarising my journey up until this point, and then hopefully I will be in a more advantageous position to clarify my current thought processes and ideas.

Ever since I was young, I have been increasingly interested in objects and collecting things for their various literal, aesthetic or semiotic qualities. I find myself specifically drawn to the repeated object or an assemblage of things that collectively communicate a concept. The first installation I ever attempted in 2008 consisted of a whole room of red onions suspended from the ceiling- even this early on in the course I knew I wanted to experiment with multiples. Although I am certain about continuing with the use of a repeated object or image, I am yet to wholly understand exactly why I am attracted to this element of multiplicity.

Jitish Kallat’s photographic installation The Cry of the Glandcomes to mind. When at The Haunch of Venison back in 2009 I remember being particularly captivated by the wall of 108 colourful images. Each photograph theoretically displays the same thing- ‘a shirt pocket’- but the large number of differing visual complexities-(the shirt fabric- plain, striped, patterned, the pocket size, its varying contents, etc.) mean that the personal narrative of each image shines through. So, I wonder… is it the intricacies displayed within the work’s variation that interests me? Or is it the possibility of reading into each image and seeing a multitude of lives and personalities? As well as both of these contributing factors, the appeal (for me) lies within the work’s visual diversity- collectively there are so many elements to appreciate within the ordinary margins of a single everyday image. All of this variety results in a multi-layered aesthetic- the viewer’s eyes skip from picture to picture in a kind of ‘spot the difference’ type motion- there is something in this process I would like to adopt within my own working practice.

Another weird example of a repetitive series of images that taps into this elusive element of interest for me is the Heinz Baked Beans advert on TV at the moment. Random I know, but the way it emphasizes the contrast between people’s personalities through the diversity of each fridge scene is genius! The 30 second clip successfully depicts each individual, personal narrative and I love the fact that the beans and the everyday context of the fridge act as sort of a common denominator throughout.

In attempt to relate this back to my own working practice, through deliberately adhering to an autobiographical approach within my artwork I’m trying to using collections of objects (or archives of text and photographs) to portray elements of my own personality, opinions or ideas. It is apparent that from the very beginning most of my work has been self-referential, it is only now that I am consciously working with it in mind.

One day late last year, I was aimlessly rummaging through my handbag and began to notice the amount of old, disregarded receipts that were inside. I started to pull them out, and after smoothing the crumpled surface I studied the text. I become aware of the amount of information displayed on each little ephemeral, flimsy piece of paper- the location of where I spent my money, the item bought, how much it was, the time and the date- even the type of payment used. As I removed more and more, a story developed before my eyes- a map of where I’d been and when. I was surprised at how many I found- some dated back to 2009- perhaps stored away in a safe place because the item bought was a gift or something I intended to take back. After lining the receipts on the wall in the studio, I stepped back and noticed that in front of me was a documented time line; a snippet of my consumer propelled life.

Heinz Beanz ‘Fridge Pack’ TV Advert, 2010