Experimental work, changing context of work by altering its environment...

More artist references...

Wunderkammers

'The precursors of the modern museum. Wunderkammer comes from the German for 'Cabinet of Curiosities'. Over the years people would find odd, strange & fantastic items & assemble these inside usually a glass fronted wooden cabinet. '

Amy Leonard creates these assemblages inside large glass apothecary jars and domes, which appear to harbour stories and little worlds of kitch.

Yet another box....

I wanted to try to construct a box from some different materials. I have been using simple cardboard boxes which I've layered with newspaper in a papier mache style, but this time I had a go at nailing some wood together to create this rough organic box shape. I tried to incorporate some natural materials and objects within this box so it had some sort of theme, but also hints of nostalgia via old photographs etc. I think I'm starting to develop abit of understanding of composition...well I'd like to think I am. I know for my assesment I should have an idea of how my work would be dispalayed in a gallery environment. Cornell diplays his art against a plain background, on a wall, generally at eye level, which I think is probably my best option. I have however been considering buying some old fashioned wallpaper to line the walls with, but it'd have to be pretty simple and not overly distracting. I have already started looking around for something suitable, but have found nothing of relevance yet. I also have an old fashioned table cloth that I will arrange my boxes and possibly just display my boxes on a table of some sort...not entirely sure yet.

(Cornells style of presentation)

I've also been trying to create a narrative to accompany my boxes. I've been writing notes for many of the objects in my boxes, explaining where they came from, what they mean to me, and why I have kept hold of them. After making these notes I came to the conclusion that there is something interesting about letting the viewer make connections between the objects in the boxes themselves. As if giving them the tools and characters to create their own stories, or to simply piece together a memory.

I have discoverd a junk shop in Liverpool, which sells bits and bobs that are perfect for my box asemlages. The objects I bought had an air of nostalagia, and I felt as though I was buying other peoples memories. I bought a series of slides, radomly picking them from a box relying on luck to provide me with interesting photos.
I decided to incorporate them with my personal photos of my grandma which you can see here <-.

...I continued experimenting making boxes.

I wanted to make something that would induce curiosity, and encourage the viewer to peer inside. This box simply has a round window cut into it. I further disguised what was in the box by using wool which I threaded across the space inside the box.

On a side note, I am becoming increasingly aware that I should be writing more about the Biennial. Alot of the stuff I've seen is completely irrelevant to my work, but interesting none the less. A piece that I'm pretty sure I'll always remember is a piece by Sachiko Abe at A Foundation, entitled 'Cut Papers'. This piece does exactly what it says on the tin. The artist sits high above in a white dress, in an expansive room snipping at paper which cascades down to the floor. A tall cone of paper towers down in the centre of the room, and is the result of some seven years of paper cutting. The scissors she uses are slightly amplified but the space is otherwise silent so people instinctively fall quiet.

Whilst I was in this space, a large group of school children entered and caused quite alot of noise. Sachiko put one finger to her lips, and stopped cutting paper until a quietness fell once more. I felt small, and inferior to this woman whom I had never met, nor knew anything about. Maybe it was due to her being physically so high above us spectators, or the fact she seemed so composed and sure of herself and her actions that I felt perhaps just me being there, I was polluting this pure crisp environment

Also in this space is a small room with a series of intricate drawings which I can't begin to imagine the work that has gone into creating them. These drawings, and the action of cutting paper are supposedly a form of therapy for the artist, to keep her mind occupied and distract her from reality. I can understand how creating such work would induce a meditative state, and although this work could be seen as self indulgent, the results are aesthetically beautiful. There is also a ‘white room’ in which strands of paper hang from above. This room has a magical quality in its simplicity.

Text from the A Foundation website…


'In Cut Papers Abe invites the audience to experience an intimate space in which the constant snipping of scissor blades is the only measure of time passing. At A Foundation Liverpool Abe will perform for the duration of the Biennial but be warned Abe says. “My work is neither beautiful nor meditational.” Rather it is an aesthetic paradox that locates the artist at the center of a field of reciprocal subjectivity, she is an object of the gaze that returns the subject to themselves by activating a feedback loop. Cut Papers is a series of works that create a surplus of meaning within an apparently simple aesthetic economy. It is this scenic space of perception and production that is the focus of the work.'

Things Organized Neatly . I stumbled upon this blog which I felt related to the kind of stuff I've been looking at recently.

http://thingsorganizedneatly.tumblr.com

I also came across a chinese contemporary artist, Hong Hao and his work entitled 'My Things'. He collects all the ephemera and trinkets from his life and documents them via photography.This voyeuristic work makes you question, if you were to disappear today what would be the material left in your wake...

I had a go at using my stuff, arranged on a blank background, and then edited the photos to increase contrast etc.

I'm not particularly happy with these photos, they dont really say alot, or have any particular impact. Maybe if id used hundreds of objects on a larger scale, it might have looked more impressive but, you live and learn...

We sat together the mountain and I, till only the mountain remained...


http://www.andyholdenartist.com/





Leggate Theatre Artist


Andy Houlden- 'Three Short Walks in Time'

This piece really stood out for me as it was unlike anything I have experienced before. It is set in a small theatre environment, in which the audience are seated in a horse-shoe formation, looking down towards the artist and an accompanying orchestra. The music that this small orchestra played was soothing, and quite beautiful, and was, to begin with, accompanied by a series of photographs.

Next the artist did a performance piece which involved a toy which marbles would be dropped into repetitively, which created a clunking sound. I got the impression that the artist wanted the marbles to drop in time with the music, but I didn't think it was quite to the beat. This really frustrated me and I found myself willing the marbles to drop on time, focusing on the rhythm intently, becoming increasing agitated. After watching this performance, I discussed my frustration with my friends, who didn't seem to have noticed that it wasn't quite in time. Maybe I was being overly picky but this slight clash of rhythm made the beautiful music irritating...

This same thing happened whilst the artist repeated the statement 'we sat together, the mountain and I, till only the mountain remained'. I focused on the artist concentrating on the conductor, waiting for his queue, on occasion he would miss the queue, and I felt uncomfortable watching him try to find the rhythm again. The statement itself was really quite profound. During the rendition, when not consumed by keeping a rhythm in my head, I could imagine a snowy mountain, with a man sitting huddled at the top, waiting to die. The phrase 'till only the mountain remained' suggests that the mountain will last eternally, but mortality will take hold of all of us human beings and links to themes of existentialism and time.