University of Dundee

Blog 5: Art to Art

Wow, it appears that I am actually keeping to the scheduled blog contents outlined in entry one. 

Seemingly, also I am on track for the multi-tasking extravaganza that awaits me as I move into my degree show space; Upper Foyer Gallery, Duncan of Jordanstone College.  I am revving up for installation next week by slowing down; this is a crucial stage in the A-Team plan and to prevent it from all going BA Baracas (when on plane, otherwise goldie looking chains are ok), I have to be head-space ready.

I am ensuring this by finally spending some quality time with my Blobs and Skaletrix– the final stages of their animation. Finally…for me this is like scuba diving whilst eating pistachio ice cream; really good, but a bit tricky. 

It’s tricky because I can’t quite take a big deep breath just yet; but I can see in sight the one big massive knot into which I’ll soon be able to tie the tiny remaining lose ends.  Lose ends being factors like; co-ordinating the woodwork, electric guys and exhibitions assistant all in the same place to put a shlef up safely.  This is to avoid Momart style fire massacres that could destroy the sponsored plasma and consume my blobs before I do. 

Actually, Last Train to Artscentral could be good. But then, would I feel guilt from the knowledge that I could always have given the blobs, worth a million, to charity instead?

Do you want to see the Tech Pagoda that I’ve almost finished constructing? Here it is, a few bits and pieces left to attach and putting the a-v in place.  I recycled the wood that formed an interactive structure at Scrap, Intermedia 2005. For me, such re-use and exposure opens up the possibility for exchange; those familiar with my work will have already experienced a part of the material’s history.

I call it Tech Pagoda because it’s inspired by my travels to China and Thailand, I was struck by these awesome organic/man-made temples that supposedly offer connectiona to a higher state of being. Tech Pagoda will house three of my six video art pieces. I can’t wait for the SoniC Visual to collide into BooM.

Function over form, but it’s best to have a bit of both; Jade Gooding.  I rest my case.

Hi Blog,  

I’ve had a lovely day in the sun on Sun (no, Scotland is not constantly in a state of eclipse) and I am treating myself to a roast; in oven. I went for a stroll on Law Hill today (once volcano, lush views of the river Tay) Unfortunately, The Law caught fire due to dastardly kids. Luckily, there was an old war veteran to distract me from the fumes with tales of bayonets and small Chinese children on the end of them.  

So, art-wise I am in my degree show space now.  Before I go into details (next entry) I just wanted to introduce my wooden sculptures; known as Wooden Skaletrix.  I started to assemble and construct these last summer.  Initially, I intended them to be simple hardboard stretchers to be painted on in the style of Base One and 2.  (See image below, Blog 1.) However, having exhibited The Opium Room exhibition, 2004, two particular site-specific installations influenced their development. 

Odd Rite Out, entailed mimicking and extending the patterning on the gallery floor with my clay Buddha incense burners and wax coated wooden chopstick like figures; a comment on absurd spirituality.  Meanwhile, SinOpsis was a wooden structure revealing the advance of mighty China into the west and our perception of Eastern myths and identity.  The central wooden structure was hollow at its core, it splintered into a myriad of wall paintings and small post-it collage doodles that opened up endless viewing possibilities. 

So, in terms of Wooden Skaletrix, I see these as an extension of these ideas.  Immediately, once in the workshop, I did not want to stop at a flat canvas.  I call them Skaletrix because of the simple notion of freedom a child has when constructing in his fantasy land, without constraint and imbued with wonder- pieces of plastic could lead to a whole new inhabitable dimension.   Wooden Skaletrix have grown in this way, becoming 3-d objects that have odd, redundant attachments, some with plaster bodies, and collage tinted with day-glo glory.

The technique behind Wooden Skaletrix reflects this idea of assemblage, they are between the aesthetics and implementation of factory automation.  The streamlined, functional, engineered, efficiency of factory product, Skaletrix is blocked by my hob-nobbled creative individual touch, much in the spirit of West or Fischli and Weiss.   

Here is some background info on my wooden sculptures, still in transition of becoming.

Base 1 and Two, Gloss and acrylic on hardboard. Base 1:  110x110cm Base Two: 112x82cm, 12/2004

Base 1 and Two form a diptych most explicitly dealing with my rupture with flat canvas surface and its limits in a Murray/Dunham sculptural/cartoon horror revolt.  Both canvases, biomorphic in shape, have morphed one from other. Dimension and canvas limits are treated with opposing techniques; Base 1 oozes primordial chemistry, paint is visceral, glossy, so good you want to lick it.

Base Two’s language is a mobile dream, the luscious colour spectrum encircles order; linear progression of a-b-z-s logic.  Space is given utmost importance; logical formatting and sculptural doodles tightly process gender and multiplicity.  Social and political aggression is denigrated beneath the surface, but one can sense chaotic id vibrating beneath candy artifice.

Wooden Skaletrix

Part of an ongoing series; Wooden Skaletrix are the genderless complements of the plaster blobs; hybrid forms that have morphed from the molecules of scrap around us, attempting to complete their half-baked journey into almost something. 

Work in progress; these naked structures are raw, both in the choice of materials- mdf, hardboard, wood filler- cheap, accessible, and conducive to exposing their making process.  Some will have plaster growths protruding from their sides, or found neon cabling, or other such objects embedded into or extending from them.  Their biomorphic history will be mapped onto them through hints of collaged doodles, (pencil, pen, gloss). 

Falling short of useful, assertive identity they sit at differing heights, levels and dimensions, taunting the viewer to adjust their own physical position to fathom their puzzling characteristics.  They goad possible ingenious function, yet ultimately reside in useless states of being; a modern day reinterpretation of urinal aesthetic.

I hope this is slowly beginning to give you some understanding of what my art is about.  Let me know when you find out. Blog soon.

Welcome to special edition No. 4 point blog

THE JAY YUNG BLOG BLOB APPEAL

Hello. Can you help me please? I fear for the future of my blobs. It’s a very real, serious matter; innocent blobs sentenced to homelessness and death.

I have created a family of blob creatures. When you look at them, they are temporarily playing freeze frame with you. Turn away and they become animated lives again, with their own characteristics, they shuffle around and converse with each other. They want you to love them, that’s why they exude colours that make you want to eat them, but then they are ugly as hell since they won’t submit to magazine beauty. They can’t help how they look, it’s because they are made of and mimic everything around them- from plant cells to comic-strip rabbits.

They have been developing since June 2005, and are reaching the final stage of their evolution. However, they will only enjoy one single degree show week to live as fully formed identities. That’s why I am appealing for your help. Following the closing of the degree show here at DOJ, 27th May, they will not have a home. In such circumstances, they are threatened with instant execution. Through adopting a blob or providing an exhibiting space or storage facilities, you will be giving sculpture a chance.

Here is some information on the blobs history and what you will gain:

It really began with Banana. (See image from Blog Entry 1)

Banana. Plaster, clay, cavity filler, cotton, Filmo clay 153x42x35cm

Whilst teaching English in China, Banana was directly inspired by a pupil’s insult of my being “yellow on the outside and white on the inside”… inferring my Britishness… Plaster, clay and unconventional cavity filler define signs and signifiers that marginalise and incarcerate. The solid, dominating rectangular is too established to shift, within its boundaries stereotypes are drawn and culture is former. But binary division reveals incomplete identity through protruding stalagmite-like forms, pushed to the surface by the primordial filler. Order is disturbed, yet physical centre of Banana remains almost empty. Absence blocks completeness from uniting China-Hong Kong-England. This is the paradox of dystopian mind/body, self/society; impetus to uphold logic is as strong as will to abolish.

Plaster Blobs

These intriguing, awkward forms sit within their surroundings and attach themselves to each other like mute alien pets. Their virgin white plaster surface is etched away, embellished with delicious dripping, rainbow gloss and a schizoid flux of doodles, fabric and neon attachments. Embedded, the media constitutes their distinctive personalities; physical remnants of each blob’s history and memory.

They challenge the linear, morphing in and out like bodily waste. We cannot help but associate each with a function; perhaps of figures reclining, or plant cells interacting. Though cumbersome in their mass and weight hinders, they hint at a secret animated life that can be regrouped, modified or exchanged. In their grotesquely pleasurable biomorphic world, each flirts desire/absence and begs for dialogue with the viewer.

Please contact [email protected] if you can help reach out and save blob lives. Your interest and generosity is greatly appreciated.

Blob blog blobby blog. Bloggy bog.

Bogster, blogster, blooog, bloogy bloggy blobbin bloogoid

Hello

Watched a really good Ang Lee film Sat night, The Ice Storm. It was like constantly watching the plastic bag bit in American Beauty for the first time, and it never gets stuck in a tree. Beautiful and balanced through its disturbance, yes.

Yesterday though, I also felt like I was being haunted by my art. It was bizarre but true.

For thirty seconds, everywhere I looked, I kept seeing references to rubbish; bins, litter, street cleaners… like The Usual Suspects crux where the detective pieces all the evidence together. Instead for me, I was feeling the intense need to record information. These symptoms have also manifested themselves before; having to retrace steps my steps to a piece of rubbish in the street and picking it up when passers by have passed by. I recycle crap in both a Duchampian found objects aesthetic sense and also to social-politically empower detritus; oh, the waste of others and its potent alchemy. This has been exemplified in Speed Dated, using footage of street cleaning vans, or Scrap, the installation was made of found objects, and of course, my plaster blobs; embedding broken stuff.

If it wasn’t for the art, I’d be worried about how special I am becoming. Time for a lazy break?

Sunday was spent in the slumbersome lullaby serenity of Velvet Underground and Nico’s Sunday Morning, I didn’t particularly feel like doing anything art/course related, so I didn’t. I listened to the latest Bleep/Warp records a friend has sent me; luckily my Sheffield friends are doing stuff that makes my brain tingle. In fact, their audio life has impacted my art. I chose to write my dissertation, entitled Pop Has Eaten Itself, on the sonification of the gallery space. From the Warp/Lex empire to Stoke’s recent Northern Soul organ recitals, The Vegetable Orchestra’s rootified Kraftwerk renditions to Cage and Marclay I quite enjoyed writing the X trillion word flow expected of us.

I guess an important value is to let my subject, materials and process forge themselves around something I am instinctively passionate about. Otherwise it’s like dancing to garage/rnb in a soulless club; you’re all disjointed and being dictated to by the crap DJ, not losing yourself in it.

From Aphex to Chris Clark, I first began to incorporate audio into my practice for my French Fancies video performance. Straight away though, I felt that I wanted to edit, delete and rehash what was already richly reproduced audio. Then there was the question of copyright, putting my friends through the rigmarole of paperwork hell was not something I wanted to inflict, especially since I tend to appropriate across the label. Consequently, I have turned to creating my own- it’s satisfying. I guess despite my hardcore allegiance to scratch culture following You Know Who’s death and mouse replacing paintbrush etc, a few of my arty molecules still urge me to embrace Hegelian wholeness, invert into abstraction and transcend as art genius.

For instance, Tom sent me Prefuse 73’s latest Security Screenings. Where were the new sonic vibrations? It felt like just a regurgitation of Vocal Studies… and One Word…; I feel a bit cheated. (Battles and Jimmy Edgar on the other hand- bliss.) But then, today, as artists, can we expect to be original? As nth generation pirates, our swag bags are already full of pillaged goods. (I knew Johhny Depp had to come into it somewhere)

I can’t help it though, I really don’t like art that looks/feels /is an outright compendium of all our contemporary extended painting art stars. You shouldn’t want it too much the wrong way and become it rather than taking from it, right? Maybe if you come to the degree show you will discount my installation as a load of rubbish. Hmm, that would be good. Hopefully, and moreso, it will engage you. I don’t think of my art as a question of liking, more of experiencing and triggering a possible learning.

Either way, I hope I never stop getting influenced all from directions. I also hope I won’t end up cutting my ear off or turning to Buckfast. Luckily we have Cove Park and endless private views to disguise regular artist Outsiderness.

Show me your open mind and I’ll show you my blobs. Here they are, in early stages of progress. I’ll tell you all about them next time round.

Dear blog, what a difference six days can make. You know something’s awry when you’re connecting with the philosophical strapline of a bank advert (?) “because it’s good to be normal again”. (Or something to that effect) For the first time since practising my art, I experienced that which I’d only ever witnessed in current Morriseyness of fellow students: art crash and burn. Let us call it CRAP, (Creative Rupture of Arty Practice). I was hit by CRAP rapidly; in all honesty, I did not see it coming.

Having worked in a steadfast manner since day one of the course, I have always successfully juggled studio practice with external projects. For example, undertaking a uni exhibition (The Opium Room) in my second year, or being commissioned to film a documentary for Dundee City Council, 2005, or setting up a collaborative exhibition, Scrap, at Intermedia, Glasgow, 2005. I have always been resilient to CRAP. Until now, I thought that CRAP was essentially a scaremongering tactic like SARS or Pinnochio; I did not think the Big Bad Degree Show could get me. Unfortunately, I was wrong. I was forced to lie in bed doing nothing but eat chocolate and watch Urban Dance Idol at the weekend. It was dreadful. Luckily though, show only lasted half an hour. Also lucky, it only took me a day to beat the CRAP out.

When it hits you, art stress is uncanny, not like any other type of maladie. It is not even that I felt panicked about time or unfinished work; I feel in control of this. It’s more like serious exhaustion, perhaps akin to being the poltergeist when it comes out of the TV; all pale and stretched.

Since CRAP, I have mostly been taking it easy since it really would be a shame to die for art. I have also been suffering from a bad back from jumping up and down on a trampoline and lifting heavy goods. Twisted siatica aside, (like someone mercilessly jabbing at your nerves with a rusty palette knife), if I could give any advice it would be to speak to fellow students. Everyone is going through the same, just at different levels. (Also, don’t jump on trampoline without first bending knees and pulling object close to chest).

So, I have mentally and physically defeated the CRAP and am back on form. Moreover, I am very glad it was not bird flu.

Ok, back to the art before a big bout of SH:ITE hits me. Stylistic Hindrance: Inverted Towards Enlightenment (period only)Here is my PRACTICE BREAKDOWN (oh, the irony)

Degree Show:

My space will be a multimedia installation incorporating animation, video alongside a hybrid interaction of wooden-plaster structures and drawings. I will also curate three sonic visual performances on the opening evening only, 19th May, including Derek Lodge (recent Word Processor show at DCA) and a Greek David Lynch fiddle player. I have recently completed all six of my video pieces, which is fantastic since I am extremely happy with how the each piece has transpired. They have also taught me more about my only process, which can’t be a bad thing. I think they stand strongly both as individual pieces, and I can envisage that the dialogue between them once together on site will hopefully create the intended sonic visual schismic. Hurrah.

Videos

One aspect of my practice involves using my body through video performance as an expression of the conceptual process. This may be through jumping up and down on a trampoline in a forest for six hours, (Trampoline, 2006) or digging into cement with a child’s shovel(Diggin U, 2006) or even masticating and spitting out cakes. (French Fancies, 2004.) This direct physicality is then transformed through my fascination with the editing process, which I feel is an extension of my painting and collaging techniques; a compulsion to arrange and animate objects within three-dimensional space. Besides the visual editing, I also place great emphasis on audio since my technique brings along with it the discourse of the DJ and VJ’s appropriation across genres, and ability to evoke fragmented sonic realities.

Video Perfomance- examples

Trampoline

Inspired by our obsession with spiritual practices and self-help literature, Trampoline confronts our perseverance of life’s grind in hope of being rewarded with jouissance.

The real time action suddenly freezes into perfect still or hyper-speed of the fall. This is representative of those treasured surprise occurrences that intercept life with elated joy and direct the viewer with meaning to live and watch on. It attempts to unlock our subconscious memory by engendering the strange surreal; it is here fixed meaning may be effaced and multiplitious identity reigns.

Rapunzel

A cross-cultural interpretation of the child Ladybird classic, my version is enshrouded in dark humour, eradicating romantic ideas of “happy ever after”. True to my distinct interdisciplinary style, sophisticated layering, editing and splicing of outmoded stop frame animation is combined with documentary interviewing techniques to blur the confines of the video-art genre. I challenge anyone who claims video editing isn’t as highly skilled or time consuming as oil painting.

Fruit Loops

Using found rotten fruit, four shorts; Apple Pile Grow, Accumulation, Midsommer Schism and Tray Play ; each focuses on the nature-tech interface and hints at cultural identity in the context of urgent ecological breakdown.

That’s all folks, the plaster blobs are calling me.