Talk to me! (1)

While I unravel a piece that hasn’t worked out and of which only the title remains (Keeping seven sisters warm – hope to return to it in winter) I ponder questions posed by an an art professional I hold in high esteem: "What is your gift to the audience? What would you want to happen to them?" It’s something I haven’t much thought about before – I do not commune with an imaginary viewer while I crochet away, but try to make work that pleases and challenges me first of all, hoping it will ultimately be able to stand up for itself in the world. My art practice is mostly a solipsistic pursuit – after all I make my work on the living room floor and direct contact and conversations with other artists are still rare. So what better place than talking here, with you?
The first thing I would say is that I want my art to move. My work is not about big statements, even if its underlying theme, exploring notions of otherness, is an important one. I hope to affect the skip of a heart-beat, a jolt, a pierce, a sudden mini mind-stumble, when at second glance the viewer realises things are not as simple as they seem. And in that little side-step a different form of engagement might be possible, a drawing close, a connection. Maybe to people’s childhood memories, to how they felt when they were small. Maybe to other instances of vulnerability, of uncertainty - or of judgement. And when they try to imagine what kind of body might inhabit one of my outfits maybe they'd ask themselves questions about perfect and imperfect bodies, about what we phantasise and project when faced with the mystery of otherness, in ourselves, in those we know, in those we don’t know.
More to think about: abjection, the psyche, form, medium, beauty, but too tired just now. What's on your mind?

One and one walked hand in hand

I'm thinking about art and narrative, story-telling. Had been crocheting this little duo for weeks, and suddenly a poem flew into my head when a friend took me to the sea-side. Don't see them as one meaning the other - look at them side by side!

Materials: crocheted from wool/acrylic mixture and cotton
Dimensions: outfit 1: 48 cm x 57 cm, outfit 2: 38 cm x 44 cm

Away

One and one walked hand in hand
an apple to share, a rag doll to tend
and much too much to say

of leering elders, God on their tongues
while fingers fondled, shadows clung.
Away, they walked, away.

They'd heard of the sea, the end of the land
followed a murmur, or was it a scent
or colours they'd never seen?

And the apple was eaten, the rag doll dropped
but no-one was beaten and the sea never stopped
to promise its clear embrace.

On and on they went. Not a word was spoken
'till one said 'I' and the other 'yes?'
and the spell was finally broken.

They tore words off their tongues no child should know
told of places where nothing but silence grows
and weariness, worn like a hole-riddled skin.

Did they walk in circles? Was the sea near?
Their steps were steady, breath fast with fear
of the elders' all-seeing eyes.

They slept in forests, slept in fields
on cool dark earth, its scent so sweet
and moon's milky light wove a blanket.

Finally, there, a salty smell
the sound of waves, soon pebbles and shells -
a lightness lapped at their hearts.

And the sun warmed their skin, but did not touch
the wind kissed their faces, but not too much
and two remembered their names.

Read a review!

by Chris Osburn in whitehot magazine of contemporary art.

The show is over

but still resonates in many ways, illuminating these rather tired days. As per usual I didn't sell but I learned a lot from all the processes leading up to the exhibition. And from trying to answer fairly challenging interview questions, which made me think deeper and harder about my work and its temporary encounter of and entanglement with Tom Butler's and Aly Helyer's. The sensitively considered curation by Rosalind Davis and Jane Boyer came as a revelation too - in the clever groupings of pieces and the ensuing conversations between them the show positively pulsed with life. Connections were made across media between painted things and real ones (we all have an obsession with hair), textures, patterns and colours, openings and orifices… With our shared interest in the unconscious, in the refutation of the borders between the imaginary and the real, it sometimes seemed like the work came from one brain and three pairs of hands. I saw my work in a new light - it sat very well with paintings and drawings, and its materiality, its thingness shone. The audience seemed to engage strongly. Feedback was very good. One day I'll sell. At a good price. In the meantime I'm crocheting away, plotting new pieces and wishing for an abundance of hands or at least a pair that is never tired.

PS. Eye-rhyme, a video I shot 1998, and which I hadn't watched for years, was selected for the exhibition too, which was rather wonderful as it allowed me to reconnect with work made before I fell ill. A good piece, even if I say so myself. It made complete sense to have it there - I could discern the continuity in terms of subjectivity and sensibility pervading all my work. What a delight.

More than extra-ordinary

This show is beautifully put together - Rosalind Davis and Jane Boyer have earned their gilded curator's caps. They have created an ancestral portrait gallery where the boundaries between three artists' work are temporarily suspended. The space seems homely and expansive. Everything breathes. Lean in for whispered conversations and you'll find your lips moving to the pulse of your own well-kept secrets. A fresh wind will sweep dark corners.
Or do you enter with breath held, anxious to find yourself growing beak and feathers or an extra limb? Maybe the content of head and heart will sprout from your scalp like Medusa's serpent hair? Try to turn your back and go: part of yourself will stay behind, in a tiny image where a furry, blurry fleece will spread across your face, and in time, your neck and chest and up from downdowndown. The eye will see - it never sleeps. Best to take time to dance with the three-legged girl (is that you, sweetheart?) or sail away a while in the black boat of father's shoes.

Excellent exibition, even if I say so myself. Exhausted. Exhilarated. In exile again. Or is it home?

Image borrowed from Chantelle Purcell's interview with the artists. Read it!

Go see:
Extra-Ordinary at Core Gallery
Alyson Helyer, Marion Michell and Tom Butler
Curated by Jane Boyer and Rosalind Davis

23rd April-7th May, Friday - Sunday 12-6 or by appointment_
South London Art Map late night opening, 29th April 6.30-8.30pm

Core Gallery, Cor Blimey Arts
C101 Faircharm Trading Estate
8-12 Creekside
Deptford
London SE8 3DX
0208 692 2783

Extra-Ordinary

Alyson Helyer, Marion Michell and Tom Butler
Curated by Jane Boyer and Rosalind Davis

Preview 22nd April 6.30pm-8.30pm
23rd April-7th May, Friday - Sunday 12-6 or by appointment_
South London Art Map late night opening, 29th April 6.30-8.30pm

From the press-release:
"Tom Butler, Alyson Helyer and Marion Michell create a disjointed world of macabre coexistence that holds humour, ambiguity, intensity and contradiction.
Originally selected from over 250 artists from the Core Gallery 2010 Open Submission competition by Matt Roberts, Kate Jones and Graham Crowley as part of the Deptford X festival.
Each artist explores identity and the psyche, the real and the unreal, showing us places, where, if we look, we may feel discomfort, anxiety and self-consciousness. The anguish of memory resurfaces as a physical representation via paint, crochet, paper sculptures, altered photographs and drawing.
The works inter-connect through the subversion of media, explorations of the potency of hair, domesticity, family and deformity creating a world of memento mori that contradictorily holds vitality; it is a vitality which draws strength and force from ‘the other’. But there is a symbolic death in these works; the death of mortification, the death of being other, the death of being bound, isolated and invisible, the death of assimilation (at any cost)."
Core Gallery, Cor Blimey Arts, C101 Faircharm Trading Estate, 8-12 Creekside, London SE8 3DX

We were wicked, we were wild

This is one of two works I showed at 48 Hours. It was an interesting little show, with photographers and painters and a video-artist. My pieces breathed from the walls amidst lots of rectangles. Originally I thought of 'them' more like Hänsel and Gretel-figures, lost, abandoned children, but when I was considering titles I decided to go for a different angle, steer away from anxiety and abjection towards something more open. 'We were wicked, we were wild' adds another dimension, I hope. Different, yes, vulnerable, yes, but maybe I'm tentatively feeling my way towards the freedom that lies in difference. There's strength in numbers too.
I also like them laid out, and am getting more interested in folding. Actually I'm crocheting a piece now just so I can fold it.



Materials: two viscose embroidery threads and one woollen one
Dimensions: 19 x 29.5 cm and 18.5 x 31 cm

Great news this morning: The Arthouse have had their Arts Council grant renewed! I can't think of an arts organisation that deserves it more. The Arthouse is singular in the comprehensive support and encouragement it offers to artists of all physical abilities. It is a great facilitator - no labels are applied to the artist - the first focus is always the art. The well-thought out package: tailor-made building (I've never been in a building before where access has been considered on such a level - brilliant!), flat, studios, exhibitions, courses, communication, networking, and utterly committed staff - is one of a kind. Congratulations, dear Arthouse - wished there were more of you everywhere!