Spider

I found a dead spider on my bedroom floor. In the low, table-lamped light I only just made out its bent, broken legs against the carpet, its body the same colour marl. I crouched down over it, watching for a while. I noted the fine hairs on its seven legs and, a few inches away, on its severed eighth. As I watched, I thought I saw it move. Its fragile body was trembling. A few minutes passed as I crouched, transfixed by these slightest of movements, and wondering at each flinch whether it would be the last. Still mistrusting of my sight, I moved my face closer and observed how its limbs were heaving, the movement far more apparent.

 And then it blew away across the carpet. And I understood that it was my breath that had made that dead spider move. For a few minutes it had been living a false life through mine.

Blue Marlble - Converging Time

Drawing Out the Floorboards - Videos

I have become more accustomed to filming the processes I do as well as documenting the result. I think this process is particularly intriguing to watch as the under-floor dirt is gradually revealed. Some people have commented that it is oddly satisfying and mesmerising to watch the latex snap out from between the boards, and dust fly up from the cracks. I think this might have potential to become a work in itself, although I don't know how 'me' I would be if it was; I think it would be about something else, perhaps more about the abject than the subtleties of an environment.

BAMS - The Bronze Stage

 

 

The main think that struck me about the casting process was how bright the molten bronze was. I've never see anything so bright, it was other worldly.The video doesn't quite capture the colour, a beautiful blazing, fluorescent orange - liquid fire.

 

 

Saatchi and Serpentine - January 4th 2015



Visiting the Saatchi Gallery has become routine when visiting London each holiday. The thought is that it always has a broad scope of contemporary artists, unlike other galleries which often have exhibitions of one or two artists at a time. However, similar to my experience of the 'Walk On' exhibition in Plymouth in October, I found it really hard to engage with a lot of the works in the Saatchi because of the setting. Especially since the tutor's exhibition at Enys House, I have become increasingly disillusioned with the white cube gallery set up, which now seems sterile and uninspiring. On my last visit to Tate St Ives, I found it to be more of an art museum than a gallery, preserving artworks from the 20th Century, instead of challenging and exploring the current art scene. Although I think the Saatchi is more contemporary in this respect, the works drawn from modern attitudes and culture, I found the display just as 'tepid'. I also had the feeling that the people in the gallery were not especially interested in the art, passing by the works quickly with little time for a thought about them. Ultimately, although one of the most prestigious contemporary galleries in London, I found myself thinking 'I wouldn't want my work in here - not at all'.

 

The concept of popular art galleries such as the Saatchi is troubling for me. On one hand, doesn't exposure mean success? The more people who know you and see your work, the more renowned you are, the more money you make and the more ambitious future works can be. I think artists often do strive for fame or recognition, and this can be deemed as a reasonable measure of success in this field; but after my recent visits to galleries I have thought that I would value the intensity, and significance of people's engagement with my work as success, over how many people view it. Thus I really wouldn't want my work in a place where people go to appear fashionable, or where artworks are crammed in together and overpowered by each other, or presented in a way that is not right for the piece. I would want people to stop and look, and feel and consider what the work is saying and their response to it.

 

Perhaps my work is inherently unsuitable for the white cube, and vice versa, because it needs the history of places and the world around us. I found the Enys House environment so inspiring because the works called upon elements of the architecture and were fitting to the space. In modern galleries however, the work always seems autonomous and removed from everyday life, rejecting natural connotations with the ordinary world. Even installations seem as if they can be copied and pasted to other environments instead of being intrinsically entwined (physically or with their meaning) with the space in which they are displayed.

 

 

 

 

Dirt and the Doorstep

Idea Book

I have added an 'Idea Book' to my method of practice this term. Over the holiday I found that I had loads of small, initial ideas that I knew I would forget if I didn't log them somewhere. I considered storing them on here, on my journal, but I wanted to be able to do sketches alongside them if necessary, as well as mind maps and bullet points as I think the ideas through. Having them in one designated place will also make it easier to browse through them in the future if I am after any ideas.

I'm not entirely sure why this 'Idea Book' is not just a normal sketch book. I seem to have been put off the idea of a sketch book from A Levels, I find them too false, and I waste time making them neat and presentable instead of using them in a way that is productive and useful for my practice.

Perhaps it would be a good idea to share some of the ideas on my journal in order to develop my thoughts about them. One such idea, that I noted down was about the 'doorstep', which I will explain in another post as it relates to the 'Dirt' book I have been reading.

Google Image Search

I was recently told about Google image search, where you can upload an image and search the internet for the original source or similar match. I don't think I'm unique in finding this to be enormous fun, but I also think it could be interesting as a way of 'generating inspiration'. I quite like the idea of relying on arbitrary computer code to expand on ideas. I tried entering a few of my own photographs with some curious results.

 

 

The idea of something being 'visually similar' but in no other way related is fascinating. I'm not sure whether it is possible for humans to think in this way. For example, if I were brainstorming things related to a work, it would include similar concepts, perhaps objects made from the same material or connected to a particular word. In this image search however, it is all about the composition of colours. Although the objects within the generated images are very random, their visual connections might make for some unusual references that might take my work in a different direction. It is also almost as if someone else is looking at my work and suggesting what it reminds them of, as people do in crits and conversations. I might resolve to use this method of unpicking an image from time to time.



 

I had the idea to try out a Blue Marlble image of the colour of my house, thinking that I would be able to find other objects that project this exact same colour. I was really surprised to find that almost none of the images were the same colour blue, and were even colours that couldn't be called blue. Perhaps instead they express some of the subtle texture of the external rendering.