Blog 33

Here are some images of my Solo Show at An Tobar Arts Centre on the Isle of Mull which is running until the end of December 2012.

Installation Shot

Installation Shot

Installation Shot

Pierced White Paper - Detail

Installation Shot

Pierced Black Paper - Detail

Installation Shot

Photographer: Shannon Tofts

Blog 32

I am into the third week of my solo show at An Tobar Arts Centre on the Isle of Mull and it is only now that I feel ready to write again and express myself verbally. The week setting up the show was quite traumatic in an emotional sense, something quite personal, the culmination of a project which I have been studying all of this year. The art I have been making is no longer private but out in the public domain. This week I feel calm again and on a new level. I have ventured back into my studio and am writing this whilst in there.

The installation in the gallery looks stunning and the beyond what I had expected it to do. By opening up the 10 meter roll of paper you can see all the tiny marks I have made on it over this last year with islands of pigment and trails of holes, minuscule marks and all over pattern. It looks quite painterly, someone had remarked a bit like a Rothko painting, and I never could have planned what has appeared before me, consciously, knowingly.

It is hard to photograph what the naked eye can see to something through the digital lens and yesterday a professional photograph came to visit me at the gallery to take photographs for my portfolio - results to follow in due course.

I go into the gallery a couple of times a week to carry on piercing the paper and I intend to finish the work right to the very end of the roll during the time of the exhibition. I want to provide creative transparency with what I do for the viewer, by making in public. It is performative, staged, yet real, a visual conversation about what is an artist's studio and what is a gallery; what is private and what can be public, and what I do as one representative of the art world.

I am fascinated by the response of the viewer. Some people are unsure whether they can come into the space or not, and if I am there I deliberately make eye contact and smile, inviting them in silently, and then carry on working. Some come in, some don't; Some ask questions (sometimes loads) and some don't speak at all.

The film I have made with Stephen Hurrel supports the paper work in the room providing context, stimulation and thought to what I do and who I am. It runs with a mixture of sound, visual imagery and silence, and not all at the same time. A couple of people were caught fiddling with the projector because they thought the film wasn't playing properly. I found this quite amusing. My art is quite new for some of the audience.

A gentlemen came in yesterday and said how my work was helping him to think about his work. Not an artist, he was realising as he contemplated my work, the importance of process in his job and not the end result. We are too often a results orientated culture. Later on he came to find me again and said 'I feel relaxed now'. It is a pleasure knowing that I have helped somebody with something in their own world through my art. I question the role of the artist in society and I got one answer yesterday.

I am re - engaging with the work now it is in the gallery space and had quite an intense day with the photographer photographing me. I worked and he clicked away. He could tell when I was getting tired as the rhythmic sound of my piercing faltered. I am looking forward to Stephen, the film maker, coming back and studying this further. Not only have we made a film to show during the exhibition, Stephen is creating  another film that documents the whole process from start to finish, a recording of the whole project. We are at the third stage of this piece - the gallery.

I am trying not to indulge in too much other artwork at the moment, wanting to concentrate on this show as my priority. Rebecca Gordon, who has written an essay to accompany the show, has described my practice perfectly and helped me to understand with more clarity what I do. There are some new threads forming, creative thoughts on what I should do next and I look forward to taking further what she has written.

The show is still young and it will interesting to see how the next few weeks develop, with more responses from the viewer, the completion of the film and the continuation and finishing of the artwork within the gallery space. A lot could still happen.

Photographer: Shannon Tofts

Blog 31

These last five weeks I have been in the studio blackening my roll of paper for my solo show which starts the beginning of November at An Tobar Arts Centre on the Isle of Mull. The blackening process is going well though I am finding it hard going at times, very different to the previous piercing process, and very dirty. It is a very gestural act, energetic in the physical sense, not only about the roll of paper but also the space as a whole now.

I am using black pigment powder which I brush onto the paper, pushing it through the pierced holes, layers at a time. It's light and powdery and gets everywhere, and I mean everywhere. I’m constantly sweeping up the powdery 'dust' not only to re-use it but also to try and keep the space reasonably clean. I have a sweeping up ritual as I finish working in the space. What’s that all about? It makes me think of Mierle Laderman Ukeles ‘Maintenance Art’ 1973 and the pictures of her sweeping the floor and Janine Antoni ‘Loving Care’ 1992 when she soaked her hair in hair dye and mopped the floor with it.

I find the dusty studio atmosphere quite oppressive, but not depressive. I thought this process would free me up more, but I actually feel more restricted because I cannot move freely around the house at the moment as I come out the studio covered in black.

I think the emotions are perhaps, more accentuated. I have a more outward love/hate relationship with my work. I am just starting to realize how many holes I will have pierced for the last year (about a million) and am having to take on board what I have done. This realisation has brought a sense of discomfort on a very personal level, the fact that I have sat there and created all these holes. But this is the beauty of making art, and it isn’t always easy, and shouldn’t always be comfortable for either the maker or the viewer.

I have been spending time trying to work out my relationship with the black pigment powder. Anish Kapoor uses pigment for how it reacts with light, playing tricks on your eyes and perception. Yves Klein mixed pigment with a solution to make paint, and he liked the pigment for it’s powderiness and independence. When I saw the word ‘independence’, I knew that’s why I like the pigment as it is, no additions. It’s a free spirit, gets everywhere, and I think the work at the moment, the process, is about the ‘powderyness’ and also the ‘blackness’ of the pigment, and monochrome colour (white and black), light, dust, dirt... I’m having to be, and trying to be ‘non’ precious about the work now, it seems the right thing to do.

This is the largest piece of work I have made to date and it is hard to assess the artwork as a whole because of it’s size (10m long), but there are some good glimpses of clusters of pigment, little islands, across the paper. I have a sense of how it will look when complete and I have to trust that the work will look 'right' for the show even though I can't see it in full until it is hung in the gallery space. That is the delight, risk, challenge and belief that both myself and the gallery have to take in order for new works and ideas to be realized, otherwise, no one would try anything new. I will complete the roll of paper in the gallery, piercing and blackening during the show, finishing the last of the 10m roll during the exhibition, and share what I do with the visitor.

Around the studio are subtle, and not so subtle, layers of black pigment dust and I’m starting to think how does dust lay, how does dust work, dust as a word, as a subject, as a material.

Rebecca Gordon of Glasgow University is writing about me and my practice and I have received the first draft of an essay from her which will be published for the show. We have met in person in the studio and spoken at length and Rebecca has captured exactly what I do and my thinking behind it, along with adding her own slant providing me with new thoughts and ways to think about going forward. For me, her essay is a critique and has provided me a springboard to assess my current stage and where to take my work further next. It is very exciting. Seeing my work described by someone else has helped me to think in a new and revised way, perhaps with more clarity, more maturity. Sometimes you are so involved with your work and it’s only from afar, and / or through time, that it all makes sense. I had the content but couldn’t decipher it in a simple, uncomplicated way.

I have been having meetings with the Visual Arts Officer and Gallery Technician at the arts centre to discuss the installation of the show, how the work is going to be displayed and if any new equipment etc. needs ordering. Adverts, invites and posters have all been approved and are at the printing stage.

Artist Stephen Hurrel is making the films for my show and he is coming over to the studio to film the next stage of making. We will continue filming my process during the show.

Not long to go now. Four weeks.

Blog 30

This last month I have had a number of visitors to my studio. It is great to share my work with others though I am a little apprehensive taking them into my private space.

We looked at some of my paper folding ideas and discussed my desire to present paper works that are unframed. It was decided that I am not a frame girl! My work is about the process, and the finished piece is a record of that process. It was observed that I seem to disregard my finished pieces once they are completed, becoming unattached to them, they no longer seem as precious. To frame my work would be to kind of lock it up and raise it on the wrong kind of pedestal. The death of the work.

I mentioned last time that I need to find other ways of working that doesn't involve piercing paper with a needle as it is making my arm and hands ache. Running along side my 10m pierced paper piece for my solo show I have been thinking about my journey from the last two years. There is definitely a project to be created from this.

I have on my wall a series of line drawings of personal maps of our trip and I've got out some drawings that I had started in 2008 of imaginary maps and wonder if this might be the way to go forward. These 2008 ink drawings were created when only I knew that in the future I was going to go travelling. They are imagined places, much fuller in the creative sense, more fluid in their making. Perhaps drawing like this, the real trip that we took will come out in unexpected ways.

I'm still testing the paper folding idea and trying to find innovative ways to present my maps and drawings without necessarily framing them.

Yesterday I went into the studio to make work without any pre conceived ideas or intent, 'just' making.

I was folding paper into three, like you would a letter, and could envisage an imaginary drawing or pictorial message inside, a code. The more you fold a piece of paper, the more creases appear within the folded framework. I love those creases, the natural pull of the paper.

I started to slash paper with a single cut, horizontally, vertically, one, two, three. They are like Lucio Fontana's 'Spatial Concept' paintings of the 1960's, where the artist would slash a painted canvas with one single cut from a blade. My paper cuts were very controlled, a mere momentary gesture in seconds, then over, quite satisfying. There may be violent connotations to the actions that I took, but I like the simplicity of the cut, and the opening produced in the paper by the cut.

On my desk I have a series of post-it notes, objectives for my art practice. They say:

PROCESS (as in my work is about process)

PAPER (as a material, source?, site?, surface)

"Think about paper as the work itself rather than as a ground"

DISPLAY (How could I display my work?)

And ways to hang or present work without framing

DECONSTRUCTION of the artwork (What happens to an artwork once it is made or 'disregarded'?)

I feel cluttered again, and today I re-arranged my space, moved stuff around, put artwork in different places, next to different things, or on it's own, trying to find a context to the different pieces, relationships. This is all part of the making process.

As well as creating artwork I've just finished The Wild Places by Robert Macfarlane, a writer who takes a series of trips out into the British wilderness. I think I've decided that the fantasy of going out into the wilderness is stronger than the reality of actually doing it, though I have asked my partner to take a night walk with me sometime to see what that is like.

The book seemed too romantic to start with but actually became very informative, full of facts relating to my own interests about maps, journeys, literature, history. The author reminds us of our place in the world.

I've started the first chapter of a book by Rebecca Solnit called A Field Guide to Getting Lost. In it she describes our desire to get lost sometimes, mentally and physically, and the need to loose ourselves. What with A Book of Silence by Sara Maitland, which I read a while back and love, you can see a theme running here.

It is just on ten weeks before my solo show starts at An Tobar on the Isle of Mull and I'm almost at the stage of finishing piercing my 10m roll of paper before it will be taken into the gallery to finish off during the show. I've pierced at least 8m worth, well on my way to over a millions holes. The next stage will be to blacken the paper with thick black pastel. This is a completely different process, messy, much more gestural and physical, rubbing the pastel right into the paper and pushing it through the holes onto the other side. I've got to find another space to do this in, because it will be dusty and dirty work compared to what I normally do.

Some filming of my pierced work and me has been done and it is at the editing stage. It is most strange to see and hear myself on the screen. There will be more filming over the next two months as well as when the exhibition is on. A writer has now been commissioned to write an essay about me and my work and this will be available at the launch of the show. Show dates have been confirmed and the exhibition is from the 9th November - 31st December.

Blog 29

These last few weeks I have been spending a lot more time in the studio making. It has been an absolute pleasure and I find myself wanting to be in there more and more. Now has become a period for reflection, a time to take stock, and to recap on what I have been doing. There has been lots of making with paper, detritus and post-it notes, ephemera, which you can't necessarily collate during the making process and only now do I feel ready to link it in some kind of order.

The end of June I went on an artist's book making course which was brilliant, something I have wanted to do for a long while but never been in the right place at the right time to do it. The artist leading the workshop was Sarah Morpeth and you can view her work at www.sarahmorpeth.com Whilst I may not necessarily want to make books per se, I very much like the idea behind paper folding and the subsequent subject of books, literature, text, language etc. Sculptural and architectural interludes. This course has directed me forward in my paper folding exercises that I started back in May.

Time is moving forward has I head toward my solo show in November and December this year and piercing my large roll of paper has begun again in ernest. I have set deadlines for what I need to achieve at each stage of preparation for the show. It has been a period of intense piercing both with the large roll of paper and other paper folding, new ideas.

Here's a snippet of what I have been thinking about whilst I work:

Why do I pin?
What am I doing?
What am I trying to say?
What are the folds?
Silent pinning
Musical pinning
Mending
What am I mending?
Opposite of mending?
Something to pick up and put down
Something physical and practical (to do)
Changing the structure
Chore
Burden
Release
Dusty
Guilt


Whilst these words suggest my physiological state, there are formal decisions to be made prior to the piercing of the paper and during the process of making.

Here are some extracts from my notes:

Different folds?
Straight or random holes?
Mass or 1 hole?
A box - No? Becomes a container
Size of hole in relation to size of paper
Layering
Structure
Fold
Balance
Weight
Relationship of fold line to hole
Different size holes?
Cluster (s)
Which way the holes showing (front or back)?
Which way pin - horizontal or vertical?
Spacing of holes in paper
Light and shadow


One thing that I am beginning to take on board and realize is that my work physically takes a long time to make. It is about challenging, and excepting that. The large roll of pierced paper will be the biggest artwork that I have ever made to date. This is a new experience for me. It is slow work. Enduring, but slow.

My right arm, hand and elbow are beginning to ache with all the piercing that I am doing and I need to take care that this doesn't become a problem, particularly long term. I need to think about alternate ways of making that take care of my limbs in between.

Some images of works in progress:

I like the contrast between smooth and rough, flat and bent, where the paper curls, changing the shape and form of the whole

I like where the holes buff up against the fold lines. There are pressure points, even more emphasized where two lines meet. The flatness of the paper has been interrupted by the fold lines and distorted even more with the addition of the holes. 

There are so many variations to be tried with this work, a series. I would like to submit paper artworks to exhibitions but without framing them, and I'm not sure how to go about this? I like the idea of 'giving' a piece of paper to somebody (hopefully in exchange for money!), but without 'packaging' the work up in a frame or box for example. The paper is the work. I love the idea of a piece of paper which sits in a space, or hangs from a ceiling, but how do you hang a piece of paper on a wall with minimal visual attachments? Scale can be important too, from the large, to the very small.