Paint Box

Friday 25 March 2011

Case Study

With the MA has come a serious lack of confidence in my decisions. So I was sure that I was going to research Chantal Joffe during my tutorial, however am now leaning towards Paula Rego...here are my pros and cons for both.

Thursday 17 March 2011

Balance

Today I visited the Museum of the History of Science and the Ashmolean with K. Was thinking about what Caroline said in her video lecture about the nature of collections, buildings and curation affecting the viewer's encounter with the work or artifacts.
MHS was the original holder of the Ashmolean's collection, but in 1924 the collection of Lewis Evans was given to the University and the Museum begin to take on its role as a Museum of the History of Science as it stands today. Being there in an educational sense, it was really interesting to see how this resource could be used to stimulate a project, or in fact be used as an opportunity for recording, and looking at symbolism. Chris described MHS as having four key points of interest, that it referenced a different time, how the artifacts were crafted, a sense of discovery and attention to detail. There have been some contemporary artists who have worked with and within the space, reflecting on the history of science. There was something magical about this first room, the glass cabinets housing curiosities and treasures from another time. I was particularly taken by the spherical glass containers and a radium home kit - perhaps made more resonant because of the tragic Japan nuclear disaster...the glass conjured lots of ideas - reflection, alchemy, magic, orbs, bubbles and Susan Hiller's painting grenades. The Al-Mizan exhibition was full of golden treasures including the golden compass like, 'cosmic calculators' - astrolabes. Al-Mizan means balance, in a metaphysical sense. This made me think about balance in my own practice; use of colour to achieve a sense of balance, the process of painting being cathartic, the balancing act of work and play. I'm not going to write here about this exhibition, or about what we focused on at the Ashmolean later in the day. However, there were many things which made me consider a different element to my practice; in a sense reengaging with these types of museums as an artist not an educator. The process of looking at objects - not painting or photographs - and drawing, was something which I didn't realise I missed. I plan to go back to both places and spend longer looking and recording, trying to achieve some stillness in my mind to capture that sense of discovery and magic. The geometric Islamic designs, comprising of triangles (consciousness), squares (elements) and hexagons (heaven/perfection) reminded me of something which came up just before this course began. What can be known? What is worth knowing? and what can be done with the knowledge once it is discovered? A sense of balance in consciousness, the knower, the known and the knowing. All I know is that I need to know more...

Tuesday 1 March 2011

Susan Hiller

Tate Britain, Monday 23rd February 2011

The exhibition began with Hiller examining the British fascination with bad weather, a series of carefully documented postcards of seaside resorts with seeming tidal waves. These are ‘dedicated to an unknown artist’ as the ubiquitous postcard author is never credited for their work passed the point of making. The artist has documented the linguistic; ‘another card for your collection’ creating a commentary reference between sender and receiver, and visual traits, through a series of crosses, as if to map out the common trends and desirable features of the chosen postcards. Displayed in wooden frames on stone walls, the pieces seem ordered and sterile, far removed from the original experience of being splashed by a wave on holiday. On the left hand wall there was also a flipbook to encourage the viewer to revisit the images in a hands on experience, as well as a copy of the condensed notes to leaf though. Although this made the work easier to physical access, it further distanced it from its origin.
My favourite pieces from the exhibition were the ‘Recycled Works’; a series of cut up former paintings on canvas which had been sewed together to make sculptural blocks. Each was stencilled with the date and dimensions of the original piece. These were displayed in a glass, suspended cabinet but had a really tactile quality to them. From looking I could imagine the smell of the oil seeping into the canvas, and the weight of the pieces loaded with paint. This is something that I could really explore in my own work, as often I ‘destroy’ work which I can’t store, or which is passed the point of no return. I have realised that this is predominantly because I value the clean, white ground of the canvas, so when I try to rework or prime over already used surfaces used I can never recreate that ‘virgin’ state. The works were labelled with a numbered map on the wall so as not to intrude on the pieces. Another recycled piece ‘Big Blue’ (1976) caught my attention; sheets of oil on canvas bound into a book, again showing a trace of what was, but not in its full form. The book also included a slide – what had been recorded wasn’t clear but it may have been the painting in full, before it was broken down into pages. 


http://www.susanhiller.org/Info/artworks/artworks-RecycledWorks.html

Overall there was a lack of colour in Hiller’s retrospective, bleakness, a Memento Mori nod, a trace of something. Even her paintings were hidden inside panels. She rigorously documented her work, through a log, photograph or sculptural piece, preserving her product and process but not in their original form. This reminded me of Sophie Calle. A colour focused piece, ‘Magic Lantern’ explored viewer response to circles, waxing and waning like a coloured moon. Their absence created a trace, an optical illusion where my eyes wanted there to be shape where there wasn’t. Figures moving in front of the projector cast a shadow over these images, forcing an interaction with the piece.


‘Witness’ (2000) was surreal; tiny speakers hanging from long wires in a seemingly order less arrangement, with whispered messages coming from them. On arriving at the centre, it became clear that they were arranged in diagonal lines from a central point, which defined routes to leave the piece. It was physically engaging and intriguing to hear those voices, in many languages, retelling their stories. I would like to do that through the eyes of my portraits, somehow capturing the viewer, as though sharing a secret.


I will take away from this show a sense of the importance of documentation, the value of recording process and preserving product, regardless of its form, something for the learning log. Also to take on a sense of being playful, but purposeful and experimental with materials, developing ideas further than the product by giving it a before and after.