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.
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