Blog

  • David Shrigley – “I think that making art is a very basic human need”

    David Shrigley – “I think that making art is a very basic human need”

    I have
    followed David Shrigley for decades and have many of his books. His comic, mad
    and vulnerable work speaks to me on a personal level. His commitment to his
    conversation with self, and sharing that in the hope that it’s useful to
    others, is inspiring,

    I
    accidentally discovered one of his books in Waterstones. That’s how I found
    him,

    His view is
    that making art is a basic human need and I agree. Whatever we do creatively,
    it can heal our mind, body and soul. It also registers our existence and
    connects us with everyone who has tried to do so before us.

    His work
    deals with big issues in a light-hearted way and this approach is something
    that I really connect with. Making talking about the impossible, possible. To
    the benefit of myself and others.

    When he left
    art school, he didn’t have the means to do anything other than drawing. So
    that’s what he did, and it resonated with his audience. I like that approach,
    working within the limitations of certain media to push yourself creatively.  

    In truth, I
    absolutely fell in love with him as an artist when I saw his collaboration with
    Chris Shepherd, “Who I Am and What I Want”.

    His bizarre and humorous pieces almost always include text, with the letters often written in his own handwriting. His use of text enhances his work, and his recognizable penmanship give his work a clear identity and brand.

  • Curatorship project: reviews and reflections

    Curatorship project: reviews and reflections

    I found this
    experience informative. It felt like such a privilege and responsibility to be
    in the care of another artist’s work. To be the caretaker of their creative
    process and voice. My opening reflection will echo my last statement; dynamic
    between curator and artist is all. 

    I was drawn
    to curate the work of Carolann Parr, a young female artist from Nottingham. She
    is an extremely kind and thoughtful individual and her joy for connection with
    others is mirrored by her desire to create in community and collaboration. Her
    sweet and gentle nature meant that she wasn’t proactive or demanding in our
    discussions about her work. This dynamic required a sensitive reply on my part,
    and a gentleness too, if her voice was to come through in the plans for her
    theoretical show. It occurs to me that this throws up opportunity and
    challenge, just as the opposite dynamic would. Curating a very strong-minded
    artist would be a completely different experience altogether.

    I have spent
    much time since we met almost 2 years ago now, talking about her work and her
    process, and this helped me feel a sense of competence and confidence in
    representing her curatorially. 

    Parr is a
    multidisciplinary artist whose work explores relationship, connection and identity,
    especially through natural systems. Her fascination and delight in the natural
    world, plant folk lore, and the magic that both these enshrine, is loud in what
    she creates.










    The innocent
    and nostalgic tones in her work are captivating and invite us to see the world,
    and therefore ourselves, in a pure light. These qualities are a refreshing
    contrast to the current tone of psyche, which is full of existential dilemma
    and threat. In this way, experiencing an exhibition of Parr’s work could
    provide a sort of spiritual medicine to her audience.
     


    I wanted to
    think out of the box, literally, with regards to where and how to show her
    work. In my opinion, the intricacy, connectivity and wildness of gardens makes
    them an ideal space to create and exhibit. And a natural background feels like
    a perfect match for Parr’s whimsical and nature centric work. Bearing all this
    in mind, I brainstormed some options for venue, as well as for the creation of
    new work. and how it would be displayed.

    I knew that
    her upcoming project focused on medicinal and poisonous plants and so the
    ‘Plants That Kill’ area of Kew Gardens immediately came to mind. Likewise, the
    Eden Project in Cornwall, with its architectural bowl and strong history of art
    exhibition felt equally possible. St Ann’s Allotments (STAA) is one of the
    oldest and largest allotments in Europe with many beautiful community spaces
    embedded across its site. And Wollaton Hall, another local site rich with
    biodiversity, which is home to Camellia House, a grade II listed cast iron
    glasshouse, one of the earliest and largest built in Europe.


    I consulted
    with her over the course of an hour, explaining my ideas and asking her for
    feedback. She was happy with all my suggestions, but the venue she most
    resonated with was Wollaton Hall. Her strong personal and creative connections
    with the venue became clear as she spoke enthusiastically about Camellia House
    specifically. The surrounding parkland is home to a riot wildlife and has
    grassland, wetland and woodland habitats. The site also has a Lake, a volunteer
    led Botanical Gardens, Walled Garden and many formal gardens too. Considering
    its heritage, biodiversity, high footfall and Parr’s enthusiasm for the space,
    we agreed that there was no better venue for her first solo exhibition. 

    Exhibiting
    in a green space creates a unique opportunity to exhibit in relationship with
    landscape, and so I suggested to Parr that she would exhibit some existing work
    as well as generate new work in collaboration with the space and its
    stakeholders; staff, visitors and the nature there.

    I wanted to weave her desire to create
    collaboratively into the exhibition too, and so I developed ideas around her
    working with members of the local community on site to create work that related
    to the space; ideally with a conclusion of generating a legacy sculpture or
    land art piece.

    Pattern
    creation and mandala are a common motif, and this aspect of Parr’s work lends
    itself perfectly to surface pattern design.

    I suggested
    that she generate some ceramic tiles, featuring plants connected to the history
    of the space, to be permanently installed in the kitchens situated in the
    basement of the Hall, which are open to the public for educational tours. This feels
    like

    I also
    suggested that a large print of her watercolour piece of a deer skull be
    exhibited in the building or the grounds because of its relationship with the
    herd of deer that have called the parklands their home for centuries now. It
    would be fantastic it if could be projected large scale onto the side of one of
    the site buildings during their light night or open-air cinema events.

    For a third
    aspect of Parr’s exhibition, to be shown in Camellia House, I suggested that we
    would negotiate a type of residential, where she would connect with the space,
    people who work there and who visit, creating work in response to the landscape
    and its populations. I suggested that this would include a range of
    printmaking, ceramics, painting and photography; these being the four main
    disciplines that she works in. I suggested that this could feed into public
    workshops and talks, fulfilling her desire to make collaboratively.

    The fourth
    suggestion of mine for her exhibition was that an element of the work that she
    created in response to the site could be a land art installation; either temporary
    or permanent. I suggested several notable artists that she could draw inspiration
    from, Andy Goldsworthy, Richard Long and Christo and Jean Claude.

     



    Reflections:

    I was happy
    to do my project on Parr, I have strong knowledge about her work and an
    established interpersonal relationship with her. Both these things made it easy
    for me to make curatorship suggestions and decisions on her behalf. This was
    easy in a way because of Parr’s diminutive and passive nature. However, if I
    had lacked that information about her and her work already, I think it would
    have been a challenge to adequately represent her because of these same qualities.
    I personally would prefer someone who was a bit more forthright about their
    work and how it would be best curated, but that’s just a personal choice. The
    reality of being a curator is that you are going to work with a huge range of personalities,
    and so being flexible in this regard is essential.

    I am happy
    with my venue choice. It is highly relevant to Parr as a space. And giving her
    the opportunity to partner work in her local area would build her professional
    network and hopefully enable her career.

    I think that
    I approached the project in an unusual way, blending curatorial ideas for
    existing work with the suggestion that Parr make new work in response to the
    venue. I stand by this choice because making work in relationship with the
    natural landscape it will be shown in adds an extra dimension and appeal. Context of artwork can either amplify or detract from it’s power, and so careful consideration of venue by a curator is pivotal to an exhibitions success.

    The
    suggestion of her surface pattern design being included in the kitchens feels
    sound and I am happy with this idea. It’s a cohesive way to embed her work in a
    historic setting and marries contemporary art with a historical site.

    There is a
    reclamation quality to someone from Parr’s background being exhibited in such a
    space. Historically, working class people like Parr would have only had access to
    the grounds in a servile capacity. And so, it is poetic that her artwork would
    be exhibited in the very kitchens that she could have worked in a century ago.

    In an era
    where existential crisis looms large, there is an avant-garde aspect to the naïve
    and romantic qualities in her work. Such art being displayed in a public space
    would act like a kind of spiritual balm to her audience and I think there is
    huge merit in this.

    While I
    suggested that Parr make work publicly and in collaboration with the public,
    her lack of confidence may prove a barrier to this or make all together
    impossible. I was trying to fulfil something that she often speaks a desire for;
    public and collaborative making. But there must be a realism about this and on
    reflection, maybe this was an over ambitious suggestion of mine.

    I had positive
    feedback about my presentation. People reflected that I spoke with confidence,
    enthusiasm and clarity. I have my education and my professional background to
    thank for this and I am fully aware of what a useful attribute it is to have.

    This same
    experience also gave me a good lens on the different needs of the venue and the
    artist. Honouring both sets of needs is going to be key to organising a
    successful exhibition.

    I also had
    positive feedback about the way that I had spoken about Parr’s work; folks admired
    the ways that I uplifted and supported her as a person and an artist. I feel
    strongly about the value of behaving this way within my creative community. We
    should strive to lift one another up. It’s also just good professional practise
    to be a kind and consistent individual. People remember this, and this kind of
    conduct is the one most likely to yield you more opportunities in the future.
    At the very least, it will stop you being excluded.

    Overall, I
    really enjoyed this project. The whole experience made me reflect on my own
    work, on how I feel it would be best curated and how I would like to conduct
    myself as a partner of galleries and curators. I think it’s a complicated role,
    but one that yields beautiful learning opportunities and synergy.

     

  • Porcelain disaster

    Someone removed my piece from the casting bowl and the sides snapped off as they did.
    I have to remake the whole thing again.
    I poured new casts today.
    I refuse to be defeated.

  • Pattern cutting to make large scale sculptural pieces

    I have never made a sculpture, or a pattern for a sculpture, this big. The structure is approximately 2.5 meters high and 4.5 meters wide. 
    I was careful creating and cutting the pattern to make sure it is accurate, as there are so many vertical and horizontal lines that the eye will be drawn to any imperfections.
    I created two separate patterns, one that can be replicated for the two exterior column pieces and another for the three interior column pieces.
    I have just properly realised that I won’t really be able to see the sculpture properly until it’s inflated, and I am as intimidated by this aspect of the project as I am curious. 
    My fabric arrived after being delayed by some idiots at DHL. Most unwelcome. But after it got to me, I cut out the 10 pattern pieces ready for painting on. 

  • Palette experiments and decisions plus reflections on purple

    Clown letter palette for our fucking clown shoes leaders. 
    I am experimenting with colour combinations at the moment. I am pleased with how the stencils came out and I like the overspray and less tight elements of my testing. 
    I am going to experiment more with the process of applying the stencils, with a focus on overworking/ making it all much less tight, like Christopher Wool’s work. If I choose this approach, there many be an argument for just doing the lettering in block black.
    I will have a think and have a play and see.
    After more tests and reflection, I found myself in the sane space with the pallette choice as I’d found myself when refining the overall form of the piece. The inflatable construct of the installation brings more than enough ridicule to the piece already. So what else can the colour communicate.
    Initiallt I went back to bubblegum pink. Let’s be honest, it’s a creative base line and safe space for me. And for good reason.
    But just pink on its own felt flat and lost. So I went back to experimenting with new colours and new technique.
    I immediately fell in love with the combination of fluorescent pink as a top coat, slightly offset from a violet purple background in a translucent spray paint, which creates a subtle neon glow effect. 
    I feel resolved with this choice. Pink has become a part of my visual language as an artist. And the fluorescent quality adds a sense of hazard, hysteria and is just punk. Which all works.
    The offset grounds the pink and creates a visual effect akin to stereo. This adds power to the questions on each pillar, making them feel dynamic and alive, almost as if they are vibrating. I am pleased.
    Aside from these qualities, the subtle use of purple adds a message of political neutrality. It is truly politically neutral, and therefore universal, because it doesn’t appear on any countries flag. This is something that I have been striving for with this piece, offering a politically universal commentary on democracy and humanitarianism. A good friend of ours bought Annabelle a cool book about why purple doesn’t feature on flags a few years ago. Cheers Al.

    Just as interesting: from a scientific perspective, the color purple doesn’t actually exist in the visible light spectrum. It’s a color our brains create when they process a mix of red and blue light. This is because purple is a “non-spectral” color, meaning it’s not represented by a single wavelength of light like the colors in a rainbow. 

    It doesn’t exist. Just like a lot of things that we think should exist but clearly does not. Like healthy democracy.
    Neon fuchsia and aura violet it is. 
    Testing, testing. Always testing. Being open, not holding onto rigid ideas and responding as the work develops. Riding out the 2am panics. It’s worth it in the end.
  • Ice mold casting prep



    I am building a double layer box to pour my silicone ice mould into. The internal layer is made from gloss finish Perspex so it provides as frictionless surface as possible for the silicone mold to be slipped out of when set.
    The exterior box is made from off cuts of wood, and is there to provide a water tight seal while the silicone sets. Depending on my tests, I may also use the wooden exterior box to hold the mould in situ while it sets in the freezer.
    I cut all Perspex and wooden pieces using the laser cutter for as accurate a build as possible.
  • Laser cut stencils

    Really thrilled that I managed to fit cunt into the lettering organisation, not once, but twice!