For today, after experiencing some drift myself, I’m putting this here as a placemarker. If you’ve followed the blog you’ll have an idea of what I mean by that as the work I’ve been doing is psychogeographical.
I’m struggling to articulate the work and its underlying theories without establishing a road map and this situationist approach seems to be the most appropriate for now. I’ll post my thoughts when I know what they are.
The image is from McDonough, T 2004, Guy Debord and the Situationist International: Texts and Documents, MIT Press, Cambridge. which is sitting on my desk as I write.
When I’m not in the shop building I’m generally either working on the computer or painting/drawing at home. ‘Snow Lines’ has occupied a good amount of this time in the last few weeks, particularly given that my slightly sprained ankle has meant that I couldn’t run. Running is an excellent way to empty your head.
I’ve thought about the poem on and off for a few years and for some reason it has come to the fore now. I don’t imagine why that might be, I’ll let the work that arises reveal its motivation or not. I imagined the ‘character’ of the poem as the space inside a cave, just on the snow line, injured in some way, perhaps falling into and out of existence as the temperature changes. I know, or think I know, that for Berryman Henry is the wounded creature contemplating his abandonment and feeling sorry for himself. I’d rather think of it as a literal piece for my purposes.
Drawing April 2019 – 28
I began a drawing before I started to build the large sculpture, and I assembled a scrapbook in which I laid out the poem to play around with found materials. The drawing is based on a curled up creature, protecting itself. In this case a pangolin, I’ve seen a lot of news about pangolins lately. Apparently their scales are made of the same material as rhinoceros horn. I also found a hedgehog in the garden a week or two ago, during the day, curled up and obviously not well. The hedgehog hospital told me to put it under a bush and leave it. I buried it the next day. I’m wondering whether the drawing attracted the hedgehog or vice versa. I’m not really.
The Yorkshire Sculpture International takes place in June 2019 in four venues and across two cities, Leeds and Wakefield. Each of the venues is interpreting a ‘provocation’ by Phyllida Barlow – “sculpture is the most anthropological of the artforms”. At the Aesthetica Future Now symposium – 7th and 8th March 2019 – Jane Bhoyroo, Producer of YSI, delivered a session in which she referred to the Hepworth Wakefield concentrating on ‘Material Literacy’ in their interpretation.
At the symposium I had a portfolio review with Bhoyroo in which I showed photographs of some of my sculptures – the Ptolemy’s Garden series [link to gallery, put a picture in!] – that are made from used or waste materials. In this case an old bathroom floor and a randomly torn and re-purposed set of drawings. During this review I was confronted with the need to explain the gestation of the sculpture, which inevitably led to talking about the materials they are constructed from. In this case the connection between the source of the material and the finished work is quite clear, they are built, in part, from flooring removed from the bathroom which is broken and used to represent views of the garden. The cat, Ptolemy, is present as part of the material, as are myself and my wife, having walked on and interacted with the flooring and also as a memory alluded to in the representation.
Ptolemy’s Garden 1
It strikes me that there are a series of questions asked consciously or unconsciously when contemplating a sculpture, does it represent, how does it occupy space, what does it feel like, does it have a front view, should you be inside it or more distant from it? Does it want you to touch it, and do you want to touch it? Does it confront or invite? Should these questions be asked and perhaps answered before any sense of meaning is addressed, or is meaning inevitably a precursor to, or at least concurrent with the approach to the object? Essentially the language we use parses from Pestalozzi’s schools through Elizabeth Mayo’s Lessons on Objects to the Bauhaus courses of Moholy-Nagy. We are asked to learn the formal elements of art through experiential encounters with materials and through analysis of these encounters develop a language to describe them.
I continually question myself about these resonances in the things I make. Whilst they are obviously necessary in the making of the object are they at all significant in the understanding of the object for the audience? Is too much explanation an attempt to cover a weakness in the work and/or does it add to the viewers appreciation of it? Given that the work is addressing a memory that is specifically mine, does revealing this disavow a more personal response, a different evocation, from a viewer?
Three Graces Hexthorpe 2012
Ann-Sophie Lehmann quotes Moholy Nagy in her2017 essay inBauhaus Zeitschrift – ‘Material Literacy’
“Everyone is equipped by nature to receive and to assimilate sensory experiences. Everyone is sensitive to tones and colours, everyone has a sure ‘touch’ and space reactions, and so on. This means that everyone by nature is able to participate in all the pleasures of sensory experience, that any healthy man can become a musician, painter, sculptor, or architect, just as when he speaks, he is ‘a speaker.’ That is, he can give form to his reactions in any material.”
she goes on to state that ‘this quote summarizes the core of László Moholy Nagy’s seminal book Von Material zu Architektur. Published in 1929 in the Bauhaus series and translated with revisions into English as The New Vision a couple of years later .Lehmann, A. 2017. Material Literacy. Bauhaus Zeitschrift . Nr 9 (“Substance”), pp. 20-27
She suggests there is ‘…a collective urge to grasp— intellectually and physically—the substances of which this world and the things within it are made. This urge is channelled into a call for material literacy, a term that denotes a broad sensitivity to materials and their diverse meanings. Lehmann (2017)
Starting with this need to think and to feel the things the world is made of, sculpture should thus be designed to be touched intellectually and physically, rendering it at least transient if not ephemeral. [There is an aside here about curating ‘experiences’ rather than exhibitions and the development of “relational aesthetics”i in driving cultural experiences.]
Lehmann discusses the tangibility of materials bent to a purpose through the design process in line with Moholy-Nagy’s Bauhaus course which ‘created a unifying experience through the exploration of materials. The interaction with a wide variety of materials— wood, glass, metal, wool, paper, etc.—enabled students indeed to ‘form experience in any material’ and resulted in countless Materialstudien (material studies), only a couple of which survived.’ She goes on to state that ‘Moholy-Nagy’s manifesto-like style reads like a blueprint for contemporary discourses on sustainability and their inherent intentions to change the world for the better. This ideal (prone to abduction by commercial interests) often resurfaces when materials are at stake. Materials, of course, are always at stake, because everything in and around us is material.’ Lehmann (2017)
Three Sculptures 2004
My inarticulacy around making is apparent and it has taken me a couple of weeks to write this vague and erratic text, but this lack in and of itself reflects the way that I make things. Thoughts piled over thoughts, things read and interpreted, understood or misunderstood, reflection, rejection and grudging acceptance delivered through attempts to control media, to overcome perceived limitations it has and then to backtrack and accept the way the material asserts itself despite my efforts to control it. I appreciate the practice that suggests you develop understanding of the material, learn to work with it and build something in concert with it, but I find myself consistently engaged in a battle with all sorts of forces that eventually ends in an exhausted acquiescence.
Young , A. 2013. Material Wisdom. Cabinet. (50),pp. 16-18
Lehmann, A. (2016). Cube of Wood. Material Literacy for Art History..
i“Relational aesthetics” is a term coined by curator Nicolas Bourriaud for the exhibition “Traffic,” held at the CAPC musée d’art contemporain de Bordeaux in 1996. It refers to installations and interactive events designed to facilitate community among participants (both artists and viewers). Rather than producing objects for individual aesthetic contemplation, Relational artists attempt to produce new human relationships through collective experiences. Artspace editors. 2016. What Is Relational Aesthetics? Here’s How Hanging Out, Eating Dinner, and Feeling Awkward Became Art. [Online]. [10 March 2019]. Available from: https://www.artspace.com/magazine/art_101/what-is-relational-aesthetics