Dismaland

There's not an awful lot for me to remark about Dismaland apart from a few select artworks because it didn't make me think all that much. Perhaps because of all the media hype and 'spoiler' images I had seen prior to going, or perhaps because I already find amusement parks pretty dismal, or perhaps because contemporary art and pop culture is already so saturated with political satire and societal disillusionment that it didn't shock me, dismay me or even change my opinions on things. I laughed a few times: at the sassy 'No Smiling' security, at David Shrigley's 'Topple the Anvil - with ping pong balls' game (I'm down with any work to do with futility) and at an animation of high diving giraffes by Nicolas Devaux, but there were no moments of wonder, no questions lingering in mind when i left (except perhaps why not).

I did like this gothic, anatomical crockery by Israeli artist Ronit Baranga, which was displayed in a 'freak show' themed tipi alongside a taxidermy unicorn by Damien Hirst. I enjoyed the uncanny and absurd, and kind of comical sense of the set up. Turning something pristine and crafted into something unsettling is really curious.

tbc

(First Attempts at) Pinhole Photography

I have been planning to try out pinhole photography for quite a while as it links to my investigations into vision and visual devices. My original idea was to 'take' / make pinhole photos through old glasses or contact lenses so it would be like seeing through my eye - I think in a tutorial we discussed how the photos would almost certainly not come out well but they would be interesting anyway. In some ways it is more productive when things don't go to plan because unexpected results inspire more ideas. So far I have been slow to act on attempting pinhole photography because I didn't know how to do it - what equipment I would need etc but, after asking around and watching a lot of YouTube tutorials I manged to collect enough information to give it a go. (Not to mention spending £40 on materials).

I found this website and YouTube video particularly helpful:

Justin Quinnell - Pinhole Photography

Tin Can Pinhole Camera

I spent the morning transforming our utility room into a dark room, meticulously taping over minute gaps in the boards I positioned over the windows and amassing knitwear to soak up the light creeping under the door (I do makeshift best). I searched the house, the attic and outside sheds for the right size/volume plastic storage boxes to use as trays, in which to put the darkroom chemicals, To summarise, it took me a LONG time to set up, and I was very excited to see my first image emerge in the darkness. To begin with I directed the pinhole through my taleidoscope. Well, this happened....        .
(I don't have a photo of it, but that last full stop shows everything you need to know) The most minute, disappointing blurry blemish appeared in the middle of a 5''x7'' piece of photo paper. Not all that inspiring.

The next attempts were somewhat more of a success...

These images are taken through my taleidoscope, a plastic bottle, a striped plastic cup (above) and a homemade kaleidoscope with stripes of black tape over the end (below). I was a little too nervous about making images through glasses lenses or contact lenses because I didn't want to waste the photo paper without having a better understanding of how the lenses would change the light through the pinhole first, whether to put the lens in front or behind the aperture. I only made a tin can camera and I think the lenses might work better with a box, where (I presume) the paper would be flat and collecting less information from all angles. Investigations need to be done...

I'm particularly pleased with this last image (and its negative) and it was incredibly exciting to watch it develop. I didn't really anticipate what the image would look like when I was setting it up so it was a really wonderful moment to see this very striking pattern emerging - high contrast patterns like stripes always appeal to me most of all. Actually.... Its strange that although this work is so vastly different in medium and intentions to the sculptures I used to make (e.g. the paper or cardboard or sellotape structures), there are still some noticeable, perhaps just coincidental, continuities. Looking at the shapes above, they still have a strong sense of being cellular and repetitive - the sections multiply as the sellotape cells once did, stretching and growing with a feeling of the infinite towards the edges of the image.

Converse to the clarity of the lines, I also really like the ambiguity and the obscurity of viewing an image that is usually and indispensably connected to an object, and therefore a context. Although confusing and mesmerising, kaleidoscpe images make sense when they are viewed through a kaleidoscope - the process is accepted as part of the experience of viewing them. When the image is viewed alone in this way, it becomes more mysterious. Perhaps this could link with my recent ideas about how vision is linked culturally and historically with knowledge....to see is to know. As I have read in Simon Ings' 'The Science of Vision', how we visually perceive the world is reliant on context and the relationship between colours. Another strand of inquiry could be how removing the object and leaving the image is similar to how I began to remove the object from the plinths that I presented at the last assessment - leaving it to the caption and the viewer's imagination to make the work...I suppose this, really, is how all photographic works function.

My aim now is to try making more pinhole images, involving lenses and trying to link the images more directly and more personally to my interests in vision.

Home Made Taleidoscope (playing around with)

Some quick things I did with the taleidoscope I constructed for my pinhole photos. Not really thinking into these at all, just had the idea that it would be cool to wrap my fingers round into the object.

Dirty Contact Lenses

I feel like an awful lot of my practice is just this... me looking at things and thinking...and looking, and thinking. I always stumble across videos or photos of things like this on my phone or camera that I once felt compelled to document. This is the closest I get to a sketchbook (I should probably upload them all somewhere to show that I'm actually doing things...).

This video is of an old contact lens of mine; photos didn't seem to capture the light changing as it went through the dirty plastic. I'd love to try and photograph this properly with a macro lens to show up all the details...I might try and borrow one off somebody.