MA degree show, September 2012
At work on "the big red ball of connection", which will contain the names of everyone I've known during my life - or at least those I can remember - along with the names of visitors to the show who write their names in my book.
“Making a Disintegration: Little by Little, Day by Day”
Practice, diary, memory, journey; sameness and variation; attending and forgetting; the ubiquitous quotidian
Originally called “The journey to the studio”, the stitched scroll was intended to be a way to get into studio mood, an easing-in. The scroll uses colour-catchers, which have done their job in the washing machine. I soak them in ink and add them to the growing scroll one by one. The newspaper used is also having a second life, a second purpose – the Saturday or Sunday paper is randomly cut into strips. The threads that I use once belonged to the mothers of several of my friends, and have been passed on so that they finally get used.
This work, with its deep, unseen history and memory, allows me to think of the future and live in the present.
Originally called “The journey to the studio”, the stitched scroll was intended to be a way to get into studio mood, an easing-in. The scroll uses colour-catchers, which have done their job in the washing machine. I soak them in ink and add them to the growing scroll one by one. The newspaper used is also having a second life, a second purpose – the Saturday or Sunday paper is randomly cut into strips. The threads that I use once belonged to the mothers of several of my friends, and have been passed on so that they finally get used.
This work, with its deep, unseen history and memory, allows me to think of the future and live in the present.
“Making a Disintegration: Memory’s Minefield”
Wrapping up words, thoughts, objects, memories – is it keeping them safe, or hiding them from others, or just a way of forgetting?
I started this series by cutting words from the newspaper to wrap into balls, one opaque (containing long words and phrases) and one clear (containing short words); these are in the centre of the photo. This led to wrapping of a variety of items - tacks, nails, buttons, herbs, sticks, tubes - resulting in objects that recall states of mind or aspects of personality, especially when held in the hand: their weight can be surprising.
The continuity of the thread plays against the separateness of the objects. Though it holds them close to each other, it’s not weaving them together.
I started this series by cutting words from the newspaper to wrap into balls, one opaque (containing long words and phrases) and one clear (containing short words); these are in the centre of the photo. This led to wrapping of a variety of items - tacks, nails, buttons, herbs, sticks, tubes - resulting in objects that recall states of mind or aspects of personality, especially when held in the hand: their weight can be surprising.
The continuity of the thread plays against the separateness of the objects. Though it holds them close to each other, it’s not weaving them together.
Red Thread of Connection
During the show I made the "big red memory ball" - containing the names of everyone I could remember who I used to know, and who might remember me. Layers were pretty much chronological: family and childhood, school days, university (various ones), jobs in the various places I have lived ... then "the London years" ... and finally the names of some 300 visitors to the show who signed my book.
The ball can be seen in its early stages at the right of the photo above.
It now weighs 420 grams (just short of a pound); unfortunately I don't have any idea of how many names are in it in total.
The ball can be seen in its early stages at the right of the photo above.
It now weighs 420 grams (just short of a pound); unfortunately I don't have any idea of how many names are in it in total.
“Making a Disintegration: The Little Library of Endless Forgetting”
A repository of poems fragmented by imperfect recall, unmemorable journeys tracked moment by moment, dreams of escape, memories of home baking, bouts of selfish absorption, unfinished lists gone missing, inaccessible texts, pointless analysis, and recurring insomnia
The collection of books includes resolved work from various projects (sonnets; journey lines; baking-from-memory; dictionary pages; insomnia diaries; "seepage"; brainstorms) as well as the books - now wrapped shut - that supplied text or visual material for some of the projects.
The collection of books includes resolved work from various projects (sonnets; journey lines; baking-from-memory; dictionary pages; insomnia diaries; "seepage"; brainstorms) as well as the books - now wrapped shut - that supplied text or visual material for some of the projects.
“Making a Disintegration: Lost in the Blue Distance”
imagining – remembering – supposing – forgetting – imagining
The four concertina books consist of handwritten excerpts, on both sides of tracing paper, from Rebecca Solnit's "A Field Guide to Getting Lost", which has four chapters, on different topics, entitled "The Blue Distance". A quote from the chapter is typed onto the final page of the individual book; though carefully done, the handwriting is scarcely legible due to the see-through paper. From each quote I have chosen a title for the book:
Pure Darkness that Goes Unseen
The Journey between Near and Far
Something is Always Far Away
Landscape of Memory and Desire
LED lights provide a blue glow.
