Dissertation Ideas

As I love learning and researching, I'm really quite excited about the first part of the dissertation (everything but the writing part). I've had an idea in mind for a while, that seems to have become even more relevant to my work at the moment. I'm really curious to start a genuine investigation of titles, and the information that artists choose to accompany and supplement their work. I have become increasingly puzzled by titles, and the decisions behind the names that artists choose and whether this is important to experiencing the work or otherwise. Similar to musicians and groups naming their songs, is naming a work most often a summary of what the work is about? A straightforward matter of whattheme of motif or thought occurs most potently in the piece, or do artists use titles in a more ambiguous way to allow personal interpretations. I would like to learn about the history of titling artworks - it seems as if artworks and paintings have always have always been given names - but was this always by the artist or by other people through convenience.

I plan to look at Cornelia Parker's use of titles (and research whether anyone else uses titles in the same way) as they are very much a part of the work itself. Perhaps, through looking at many different artist and accumulating a survey of artists and titles I can start to catergorise the ways in which titles are used or decided upon.

I am a little concerned that this is too broad a topic to attempt. In order to work out how artists use titles I would need to thoroughly investigate and understand an awful lot of works. In my tutorial with Andy Webster, he also expressed concern that there might not be much written on the topic, which would make it a lot harder.

Andy suggested tat I attempt a less conventional format for my dissertation instead of a standard critical essay. He thought that a catalogue might work well with the themes I am looking at 0 perhaps presenting different exhibition catalogues (that I have written) as a way of exploring how writing accompanies artworks, perhaps even devising entirely different explanations to artworks.

'Royal Cornwall Polytechnic Society'

This work came from an idea I began developing at the end of first year, when I dissected the bristles of a dustpan brush belonging to my student house. The brush was really old and looked like it had been used many years before we started living there, so to me it was a tangible connection to the history of the space. I had wanted to make a proper work out of this idea, and thought it might work well at the Poly as it is an historic building with an interesting and mysterious past. Using a dustpan brush to convey this seemed like a thought provoking and unconventional way to comment on the space and make people think about dust and cleaning in a different way. Lining the bristles up on perspex sheets to be displayed in the windows was a quick and intuitive decision, that I thought would be subtle and minimal as well as practical.

 

Although I have reflected on the positive aspects of making a work quickly without much experimentation (in my Time/Piece and Dust from a Doctor's Waiting Room posts) there were a few errors and glitches that were a result of not giving myself enough time to produce the piece and not gaining a familiarity with the materials. For example, I had never worked with perspex before and made the mistake of using fixative to secure the bristles, which distorted the clarity of the plastic and made it  murky. When I installed the two Perspex sheets in front of the windows I also discovered that they were slightly different colours (oh, Trago...) - I might have swapped them had I had more time to prepare.

 

Taking the brush apart and lying out the bristles was like an archaeological or forensic process, where they could be studied and their differences noted. It also took about three days solidly working to complete, allowing me the repetitive, meditative task that I had been missing all term. Physically making and putting effort into the work was more satisfying than presenting the found objects in my other exhibition piece, although I was happy with both. 

 

 

 

As with 'Time/Piece' it was vital that the title and materials be displayed alongside the work where the viewer would definitely read it. Whilst I were setting up a lot of people mistook the bristles for scratches on the surface of the Perspex, which of course is not the artwork at all. The title and list of materials would remedy this and invite people to look closer and see for themselves. I suppose another way of doing this would have been to exhibit the bald brush along with the bristles and allow people to make the connection for themselves - a substitute for a title.

 

One last reflection is on the way I chose to display the bristles with such subtlety that the entire piece could have been completely overlooked. Indeed, I had several comments from people that they "almost didn't see" the work and that it was only the title that made them look up and notice it. Far from offended by this, I think it is very fitting with my intended themes and ideas that some people should walk past and others, who are perhaps more observant and open to their environment, should be rewarded. This reminds me to some extent of the attitude of Susan Collis' artworks, which could be very easily missed. Although on the other hand, Collis' everyday objects impregnated with precious materials, are displayed in galleries, where the mundane is approached with suspicion and interrogation. In a building like the Poly, I think very subtle artworks involving everyday objects could be easily ignored altogether. 

Dust from a Doctor's Waiting Room



I have really enjoyed the process of making my works for Schism, as I allowed ideas to reveal themselves through chance encounters and spontaneous thoughts instead of relying on extensive experimentation and formal research. I feel it has been a real progression from my usual way of working and has taken my practice in a new direction. I recognise this more improvised method from the way I approach my Instagram account (which probably has more of an impact and relevance to my practice than I tend to acknowledge), to which I post photos of everyday encounters I have as they happen, and aim to show other people how I perceive these things, often with an unexpected beauty or significance. In a way, working spontaneously like this is more honest and far more personal. The objects I picked are from everyday life so anyone could access them or even present them as a work, but I have framed them in a manner particular to my interests and to my way of thinking about the world.

 

Having lost confidence and interest in my latex floor work, it was necessary to start again with a new work for the exhibition. My plans for a dust filled hourglass fell through due to the time constraints so I felt I should let the space or indeed, random encounters to dictate the way forward. I was strongly reminded of what Simon Fujiwara said in his lecture and seminar about taking research into the world and finding ideas in encounters outside of the studio. He described how artists often have a particular theme or idea or political message that they really want to make a work about, but struggle with research alone; this has resonated with me very strongly this term as I find ideas happen on the move and rarely in the studio when I am focusing too heavily on researching the topic in books.

 

I was walking home from uni one evening when I happened to look to my right and see a cleaner vacuuming the doctor's surgery waiting room....and then I knew what my exhibition piece was going to be! I have a strange relationship to 'fate', because I don't believe in predetermined paths, but quite often find myself in situations where it would be easy to believe where the chances are too slim to be coincidence. (I might list these encounters as research in themselves because they have taught me as much about the beauty and mystery of the Universe as any artwork). Anyway, it was very fortunate that I happened to look up at the very moment the cleaner was in view through the window because I would have had a very different work to display otherwise.

 

 

I had been thinking about using dust from the Poly because then it would have a direct relationship to the space, so the idea of dust from significant places was already in my mind as I passed the surgery. The idea of presenting dust from a doctor's surgery initially stood out to me because of the heightened 'phobia' of the material. Where dust is usually considered dirty, dust from the doctors would have double the implications, with added fears of viruses and bacteria from ill patients. My ideas about the piece developed over time and I thought of more and more additional layers of poetic associations. One that I really like is that it is from the waiting room - a place designated for the very purpose of spending time, which links to the sense of mortality that illness and being at the doctor's proposes. I was so very pleased that in the sample of dust I took, there was a white hair (visible in the photo) which speaks very clearly about aging and time's passing. Another point I considered was how Westover surgery is used by the people of Falmouth, and therefore the people that would be coming to the exhibition - perhaps some viewers were unwittingly seeing pieces of themselves in the petri dish. During my crit I realised that this was literally the case, as you can make out your reflection when looking down into the dish's plastic surface.

 

The process of obtaining the dust from the doctor's surgery was a lengthy, awkward but ultimately successful one. (One that I'd rather not relive on here, however good an anecdote it is.) I think it has taught me a bit about the role of artists - art can often be a wonderful excuse to stir up people's routines, not only in the galleries but in real life. As well as just getting the staff at the doctor's talking, I hope it also made a few of think (about the dust). It is easy to forget what an art 'bubble' I am in, and also that the edge of it is nearer than I anticipate - the course has taught me such a different way of thinking that it is difficult to relate to people who have not had the same 'education' and to understand why my ideas might be truly unconventional in their eyes.



Installation Room - Photographing Latex

I have been keen to get an installation room for a while in order to photographs some works properly in a blank space for my website. The collaborative latex work 'Common Ground (43 Hours)', which I made with Ed has been puzzling me for a while, regarding how to document it. We decided that the latex itself was not the work and was itself the documentation of the liquid latex inhibiting people from using the space normally; however, I still wanted to have some photographs of the latex presented clearly so that it would be clearly shown on my website. 

 

Firstly, I laid it on the floor, and quite liked how the curve interacted with the right angle of the installation room walls. I also immediately saw how the work was changed by being in a new space - the artificial light and white walls makes the work eerie and charges it with

unfamiliar connotations of the uncanny. Perhaps this was more a feeling that I had at the time as I always find the installation room a little sinister and unnerving, but I'm sure there are hints of it that come across in the photos. For some reason, the colour of the latex on the floor makes me think of the dark, leathered skin of bog bodies.

 

Time/Piece

My first work for the Schism Exhibition is a selection of curated objects that link together with a common theme of describing time. They all came about through random encounters or momentary ideas that are largely unrelated to things I have formally been researching this term. The idea for a work began with 'Dust from a Doctor's Waiting Room' (see previous post), and the other two came soon after as I had been thinking about objects that I find interesting and meaningful. I have often thought that my contact lenses have a lot of potential for an artwork as there is so much importance to what they do and how they affect my relationship with the world around me. I suppose the piece touches on themes of space and environment as well as time and its passing - the dust describing a place, and the contact lenses allowing a clarity to experience and understand the surroundings.

 

Although this way of working, and this medium of curating objects is very new to me, it felt comfortable and instinctive. I was confident in the idea from the start, which stood in contrast to my floundering with the latex and hourglass ideas. As I only had two weeks to make an exhibition work, when I thought of these ideas I knew it was important to follow them instead of making a piece that would follow on from my research but that I would not be entirely satisfied with. This has reminded me again how I do much better and work more effectively with an exhibition or particular event in mind; but this is cohesive with my views about art and life being strongly linked. I don't (generally) create work that can be hung on any wall or is suitable for every space, and instead make works that lend themselves to the space or the history or the mood in which it is to be experienced. I think work is largely much more effective when it is purposeful and considered, with a relationship to its surroundings.

 

 

Time/Piece

 

(Curated Objects)

 

2015

 

Indeed, I debated a lot over how the pieces might be presented and made sure I had a space in the Poly in mind before making the decision. I thought one of the windowsills would work best as they are clean horizontal surfaces with a lot of light to make out the detail. I researched display methods, thinking back to my tutorial where we discussed methods of framing work with museum/historical connotations, and I wanted to set the work up as being found objects or relics. (I suppose found objects in contemporary art are the relics of modern day society, the only difference is time...does this make using museum display methods too obvious then?). I considered a display case but thought this would interfere with viewing the work clearly - it was important that people would lean in and look closer to see the lettering and the condition of the lenses and the white hair in the petri dish.

 

I also considered displaying the contact lenses in a jewellery box (a black velvet one, which earrings or cufflinks are usually presented in), thinking that it would convey how important and valuable the lenses are to me, far more valuable than jewellery. However, as I thought about this more it began to be problematic - the lenses left in the air would be unusable and destroyed, so it would be a conflicting message. Furthermore, I thought this approach might be a little too prescriptive and insensitive - or alternatively that it would encourage too many irrelevant connotations of rings and proposals.

  

 

In situations where I am faced with a lot of decisions I find the best way to decide is to simply imagine the best outcome - in my mind this was the low black platforms of uniform size which I decided would look clean, refined and minimal. The size of the platforms was dictated by the objects, and by what I thought would be proportionate to the space.

 

It was the curators' decision not to put titles and names alongside the work, but I felt very strongly that the title and accompanying words describing the materials were very much a part of the work. So many people come past as I was setting up asking what the objects were - isn't it curious that, had they encountered the objects in everyday scenarios they would have known or understood what they were, but in an art setting they were suspicious, either mistrusting of their own judgement or anticipating something out of the ordinary. I knew it was very important to have the titles of the work next to it or the meaning would be entirely lost.

 

I decided to print these on acetate and positioned it on the wall of the window alcove. During the show I observed how many people simply did not see the accompanying text in that position, so moved it to a more central place just behind the square platforms. This has taught me how it is difficult to anticipate how people are going to experience the work, and some adjustment is often necessary.

 

 

 

The History of Ideas

 

(library slip from ‘Ideas - A General Introduction To Pure Phenomenology’ by Edmund Husserl)

 

 

Six Months of Sight

 

(gas-permeable contact lenses belonging to the artist)

 

 

Dust from a Doctor’s Waiting Room

 

(petri dish, dust removed from a Henry Hoover belonging to Westover Surgery)

 

I received some really positive and thought-provoking feedback at the private view and in the group and PASS crits. I always really enjoy hearing people's opinions on my work, and it often brings up interpretations that I have never thought of and am happy to accept. I was really surprised at how perceptive some of the first years were - some of them really understood it and said things that made me like the work as if it were made by another artist, as if it were an unfamiliar work that I was encountering for myself. I wish I taken notes throughout the crits to log the opinions, I must remember to do that in future as I have forgotten many of the specific comments. 

 

I had a lot of people say that they liked how subtle it was, in its meaning and appearance, and also that it is quite different from previous work that I have done. Another thing that was said was that it is a very 'complete' work - I wasn't entirely sure whether this was a good thing or whether it implies that the work gives too much away. I tried to see how visitors to the exhibition viewed the work - how long they would spend with it and whether they looked like they it was making them think. A lot of people did spend a fair amount of time with it, looking at the text and then the work, leaning in closer to look at the details etc. which indicates that it interrupted their routine and their lives for a short while, and maybe even changed their perspectives a little (I wish!). 



Curatorial Committee (before the show)

I really wanted to be on the curatorial committee tis year -even after seeing how stressful everyone found it in first year. I have become more and more interested in curating,, and also thought it would be very useful for the future to know how to put on shows and acquire some experience.

Everyone is reasonably relaxed on the committee, so it hasn't been too stressful and the first show looks like it will come together fairly smoothly. I think the trickiest thing we have encountered is what logo and graphics to use, as there are so many different opinions and we all appear to have very different tastes. The answer to this has been to  use lots of different ideas, but it concerns me that this might dilute the impact slightly.

I really enjoy social media, and think I have a fairly good understanding of it, so put myself forward to manage the Twitter, Tumblr and Facebook event pages. So far it is going well, I am enjoying taking photos, documenting and spreading the word in creative ways. I really wanted to get the word 'SCHISM' out there and thought the video I put together, where people on other courses were involved, quite effectively started to get people interested. I really appreciated what Jesse was saying about getting the word into people's subconscious, by not always saying what 'Schism' is and just letting a logo or the word creep gradually into people's awareness.