Metalwork might be a bit of a challenge this year. That doesn’t have to be bad though, right? Having spent all last semester in woodwork, I assumed the skills would be pretty transferable. But theres now an even greater fear that I’m going to lose a finger. Heavier machines, sharper materials, being entrusted with hot metal…
However, the look is pretty sweet. So, lets see what we can do.
I have ideas. Lots of ideas. Well… three ideas. Which is lots of ideas! This should be reassuring. But I’m a worrier.
It’s hard to ‘just get things done’ when you’re panicking about the result. Is it easier to not try, and therefore not fail?
I’m intending to try metalwork this year, however it’s off to a slow start. Apparantly I’m too little to work the metal cutting machine, and my clothes are too ‘flattering’ to weld in. So, plan of action? Three McDonalds meals a day and denim overalls. Or perhaps I could just wear old clothes and ask for a bit of assistance. It was a rare occasion today where I felt that my gender was holding me back. I felt like such a ‘girl’ in that metal workshop. It’s stupid really, I was in woodwork all last year and coped pretty well. Metal is probably more complex, but I’m going to try.
I’m thinking a lot about multiples this semester. My starting point in metalwork is to make a variety of cube like structures. Progressing from there, I’m hoping to play about with light, I did a bit of wiring last year but I’d like to make it more of a feature. This is a pretty vague explanation of what I’m thinking.
It’s disappointing not to have any pictures of progress yet. Tomorrow will be my day.
I like French contemporary artist Christian Boltanski. From what I’ve read, our thoughts on art go hand in hand. Boltanksi admits that when you’re an artist, ideas of creation sometimes just don’t come, you can sit for days feeling unproductive with no drive or spark.
“You must wait and hope – there’s nothing else you can do. And when you have an idea, you can do it in 10 minutes.”
A lot of manual work, building and making, is time-consuming, but often the idea itself and the initial sketches can happen in a very short space of time. Sometimes this is reassuring because on those dwindling hours of having nothing to work on, you know that something could inspire you at any minute. Something small. Ideas come from the tiniest things. A lot of time in art school is spent sitting at my desk, idly scribbling nonsense words. Time to ‘do nothing’ is so important in the thought process. Boltanski reiterates,
“Sometimes in two minutes, you realise what you must do for the nest two years. Sometimes its in the studio but other times its walking in the street or reading a magazine. Its a good life, being an artist, because you do what you want.”
I always find comfort when I read interviews with him. The way he openly admits to artist block and even commends it is refreshing. Its easy to feel lazy when theres no ideas.
Aside from his attitude and views on art, I like Boltanski because his work is beautiful. He takes heavy subjects, the fragility of life, memory and loss, and works them with such a subtle flair, often even with humour. The image bellow of No Man’s Land shows a giant pile of used clothes and a large crane scattering the clothes into separate clusters. A good example of Boltanski’s subtle handling, the piece does not scream his intention, but allows the viewer to draw their own conclusion. A child would look in wonder at the giant crane, an old widow might see the clothes and think of remnants left behind by the dead. A young adult like myself might be intimidated by the scale of the piece. When I see this, it hits me how small I am, how many people have come and gone before me, and the traces they leave behind. I’d love to see this piece up close, to let it fully affect me.
So there’s a little bit about why I like Christian Boltanski.
It’s good to get out. Christmas holidays always tend to drag on a bit towards the end. Having finished my Christmas temp. job and not having a set project for going back, the last couple of days have been a bit bland.
So I took a trip to Loch Lomond today. The weather is still frightful of course, the loch had risen right up to the banks, but that wasn’t gonna’ stop the trek. There were a few other people taking walks, adorned in anoraks and hiking boots. I received a couple of amused looks at my patent leather boots, beret, and faux fur coat. But I bet I was warmer than they were.
It’s nice up there. A nice place to breath. Clean air, inspiring scenery and water on your face always provides a good wake up.
The trees are getting totally drowned in this weather. It was strange to see after having visited the same place in the summer, when the water was flat-calm and plants thriving.
I like taking photos. I always use it as a means of recording, in my artwork. I’ve never given it real time to study what camera I should be using, or what settings are best for what scene. I just like to snap-happy and thats enough for me right now. Maybe it will be something I look into in the future.
I’m not making resolutions this year. Last year I wanted to learn something. I learned many things actually, basic skills such as how to make a circular box and avoid drilling a hole into your left thumbnail, and then some more abstract lessons, lessons that the natural progression of a year provides.
But this year is just about survival. Get on with it. Keep breathing and don’t complain. Get it bloody done. Perhaps even make some noise while doing it. Take a train if you need to. Ask questions and work on answers.
So, to initiate this, tomorrow I will begin to look for my artists placement. Infact, I might as well look tonight. Get. Things. Done.
I’ll end with this photo taken on my iPhone on a train from Edinburgh arriving into Dundee. Its blurry and unrecognisable as the Tay. But I like it.
2011 had its ups and downs, as all years do, but was still a little bit amazing. I always get quite sad at new year, I’m not a fan of change and the future scares me frankly. So all I can say is “bring on 2012″ and hope for the best.
This year is dissertation year, start of degree show plans, figuring out what I want to do with my life… This is a little bit much for my head to take right now, so lets take it one step at a time. A new project to get into shall suffice for now. I got good grades for my work this past semester, but I want better. So I’ll get better.
My feedback seemed mostly positive. They advised me to look at some examples of architecture and try to incorporate old with new, rather than just ‘old’. I’ll have to think about that one. My wardrobe project in particular was met with enthusiasm from the tutors. However, I was told that if I’d made one change, I would have got a whole grade better. Which sucks to hear but at the same time, I kind of already knew this, I just didn’t have the guts to go ahead and make that change. The opinion was that if my piece had simply been an empty wardrobe on a bed of berries it would have said so much more. I was too scared to do this. I tried to highlight the point I was trying to make by putting empty jars inside my once-empty wardrobe, to comment on empty space. But they’re right, I should have left it alone. Need to take more risks and get some confidence.
Some more boxes anyone?
I’ve had to go into uni before 9am every morning to switch on the little lights inside each capsule. Nothing like rolling out of bed at 8 in the morning and pounding down Perth Road to ‘Yellow Submarine’. It’s good, cause it gets me up early so I can spend today doing Undiscovered Landscape work… and watching The Big Bang Theory…
Number 4 was fun to make. It includes a piece of driftwood, some curled up leaves and three boxes of spent matches. Again this comments on the passage of time with the objects inside all having been used or changed over time. I sat in the studio and burned through the first box of matches, but they kicked me out to do the second and third, apparantly it caused some paranoia amongst tutors. In fairness, I am very clumsy, so there was probably a good chance of me setting the building alight.
It was a lot more difficult than I’d assumed, installing shelves and making things balance and hang in all of the capsules. Circles have proved to be relatively awkward shapes to work with.
Its actually a miracle that everything in Capsule 5 is secured and staying together. Theres hidden metal rods, masking tape, double sided tape and an extensive amount of glue. The spools are from a used typewriter ribbon. I threaded through a new ribbon of paper, with my own scribbled signature written continuosly throughout. This was a comment habit, rhythm and memory. Our hands instictively scrawl a signature without thinking about the words, it becomes its own image, a label.
Continuing the idea of text as image, and writing certain things out of habit, I have continued the use of ‘filler text’ this semester. This is text that is used in typing-excercises, usually nonsense but it always amuses me that it becomes rhythm and sticks in peoples heads. I also find that what is nonsense text in the context of a typing manual, becomes apparantly signifficant when used in an artwork. When seen within this box, one might read it with the fluidity of a poem, considering the meaning, when really the original intention was nothing to do with a narrative.
Another aspect of the uniformity between capsules is the little golden plaque on the door of each. The plaque shows a hyroglyphic symbol corresponding to the number of each box. This encourages the collaberation and layering of knowledge and multiple subject matter, that was seen in the old encyclopedias. The numbers provide another aspect of this and also emphasises the idea of documentation and presentation.
I kind of think of the final presentation of this piece as an installation with little assemblages throughout. The desk, the suitcases and the drawer are important aspects of this piece just as the capsules are.
Theres so much in this project. Little details, some that aren’t even seen. Scraps, images and tokens, that have been given signifficance. Hopefully the viewer can observe and appreciate this, constructing their own relationships from it and enjoying the aesthetics overall. You tell me…
So the studio module deadline has been met. I find myself a little bit lost and not knowing what to do with myself. The expansive module deadline is pending but we’re not allowed in the studio this week and I therefore seem to have achieved absolutely nothing today. Perhaps I’ll blog about what I have achieved this semester, to provoke a bit of self- motivation.
Some detail on Capsules One, Two and Three.
Capsule One was the last to be filled, and one of the most frustrating. When you can see the end so close, patience starts to wear thin.
The contents of Capsule One include a hanging envelope containing an old pair of ‘Pince-nez’ spectacles, and on the right, eight envelopes each with a title but containing a blank page. This is meant to comment on the fading memory of events. We can remember an event happened, we know its title and perhaps its date, but in time the images and details of that occasion deteriorate.The content becomes unclear.
Capsule Two is my favourite and the one I had in my head from day one. It incorporates hanging baby teeth, shelves holding1940s pennies and shells washed up on the beach, still intact with both sides able to close. Creeped out yet? The teeth seem to have provoked some surprise.
I think this is a good example of the nature of assemblage. I’m not just ‘shoving things in boxes’. This is a process where composition must be considered as well as colour and placement of shape and form. Just like painting or photography, it is simply another medium to create an image and a reaction.
Capsule Three allowed me to continue the use of bones, as well as layered acetates, and typewriter text. Each box has a border of a page from ‘the Book of Knowledge’ in it. The boxes were originally motivated by the jumble of subject matter found in those old encyclopedias I acquitred back in Summer.
The small glass contains some preserved, pressed fuchsias. They are so fragile. Everytime I dropped one and tried to pick it up it would just tear in my hands. The old bones, small glass and dried fuchsias continue this representation of the fragility of memory.
As well as each having the border of encyclopedia pages, each is also uniform in the addition of a small light at the top of each capsule. This is to strengthen the concept of these being display cases, they are lit to present the objects more formally. I like the uniformity of the exterior of these boxes, and the consistencies throughout. They are tied together as a series, thus the random objects used have been associated together to create a new context. Hurrah.
Deadlines are approaching. Sometimes the panic becomes a background thing and all thats felt is a drive to finish. It’ll get done, because it has to. This past week I’ve probably done the work I’d normally do in 3 weeks. I’ve been up before 9 every morning and have been staying in uni til around 7. And it feels good. The capsules themselves took a while to make so its good to get onto more resolved work.
This was basically my blank canvas at the start of last week. It was a little bit daunting, the prospect of having to actually do something creative with these perfect circles I’d made. I was feeling a little precious about ruining them, which isn’t a feeling I often get in my artwork. I usually enjoy the ‘happy accidents’ and the unpredictability of experimentation. I managed to overcome the fear anyway.
Inside each box is a variety of typed text, assorted found objects, and histological images. Quite the mix. The objects range from some shells and an old boot picked up on Musselburgh beach last Winter, to some spent matches of my Grandpas, refound in our garage over summer. This variety links back to the mix of articles found in those old encyclopoaedias I read over summer, and also to the patchwork way our minds work. I like the way memory works, keeping fragments of events and giving seemingly unimportant things signifficance. I think the theme of memory and this idea of remnants of things lost, creeps up a lot in my work.
The histological images are courtesy of my friend Scott and his uni studies. I like that to me they’re pretty and look like planets but theres this whole other importance and relevance to human life that lingers. It seems to work with the layering of theme and different aspects of knowledge I’ve got throughout this project.
One of my six in-progress capsules. Still a bit rough in terms of finish but I’ve got the objects installed and the lighting pretty much sorted, so its on its way.
Bring on assessment, I guess.
It’s good to take a little detour sometimes. This week I’ve been taking some timeouts between projects to get experimental. Basically this is me just finding a bit of recreation between tasks. It does tie in with the Undiscovered Landscape though. The essence of it? I’ve been squishing berries.
Having admitted to myself that I really don’t want to use leaves and typically outdoorsy materials, its a bit contradictory that I’m now using berries. But their bright colour seem to separate them from the typical. The red and the way they ooze kind of reminds me of those gross mushrooms I saw on the field trip we took at the start of this module.
Originally I wanted to make strings of these beads and hang them in the small space in my wardrobe to echo the vertical lines of tall forest trees tightly packed. But that didn’t look great. So I took them out and stood all over them.
Which was therapeutic in a way, destroying an artwork that didn’t work, and thereby making another piece. Having spent a few hours threading them together and not being happy with the result, it felt surprisingly good to destroy them.
This berry tangent was really just something to do inbetween things. It’s good to sit and think and sometimes its good to sit, think and do. Ideas come when theres a focus, even if the focus is on something seemingly unrelated.
I think I might incorporate berries on the floor in my Landscape project. Its satisfying to squish them and would incorporate the idea of making an imprint on surroundings. Instead of having things in my wardrobe I think I’ll keep it mostly empty to maintain the solitude of a small space. I have an idea to place my wardrobe within another small space within the studio. This comments on comfort in small spaces (I like to sit in my wardrobe, yeah I’m weird). Perhaps I could create a kind of chaos outwith the wardrobe to highlight the space within. I’m not very sure but I feel I’m getting there.
