Psychoanalysis

DO I want to go in that direction, like some people have been mentioning, or am I more interested in the idea of people (whose intelligence and talents and interests may be more scientific or musical or something else other than visual art) as visual artists? There may be some overlap.

Richard Hamilton: "The Late Works," And Not Being Unnecessarily Complicated

I saw this today. I like that the work may not necessarily have been over-thought during its making and that you do not need to over-analyse it to find it interesting ("interesting" meaning exactly that, and not just "aesthetically pleasing").

I want to make work that does not rely on being unnecessarily complicated. I don't want complicated secret meanings that will never really make a difference to the work unless they are spelled out (either in the work or outside of it). I think a couple of the ideas I was having before could lend themselves well to this. I liked the idea of giving "non-artists" gallery space to "use" or "exploit" or "waste" or do whatever else they felt like with as much or as little effort or thought as they wanted (because: is gallery space "important" and is anyone's "art" really "less important"? and what would they choose to do? it could be interesting). However I think I'm going to get someone to think of something for me to create. It can be something important to them or a random doodle or something crude, anything, and I'll immortalise it in stone or oil paint or something like that. I was going to carve something, but I think seeing the Richard Hamilton stuff today has given me the idea of merging laborious oil painting with contrasting elements.

Santiago Montoya

I was at the Halcyon Gallery and decided to see what Montoya's work seemed to be about without looking for any background information.

I like work that is about humans, but without necessarily having humans in it, and I think that that is what this work was.

I feel like the work questions money's power over people and emphasises its repetitiveness, using it as a medium in a way that forces us to see it as exactly what it is physically. You pay attention to its form and aesthetic qualities and question why it represents so much more than what it is. Montoya surrounds a large stack of sheets of cotton paper by bold, iconic images made of currency, and this emphasises how much difference there is between what money is, physically, and what it means to us once numbers and landmarks and portraits of 'important' people have been printed on it.

I think this work is another example of clean, elegant, uncomplicated solutions.

Patricia Piccinini

The other day I was at one of the Haunch of Venison galleries and saw some of Patricia Piccinini's work. While it was not that relevant to my interests, it was definitely a good example of work that makes its points in a clean and simple way. Its intentions and effects are clear, and its execution is uncomplicated.

Just with colours and textures, and without complicated text and imagery, the work speaks volumes. It speaks about humans even where faces or any other recogniseable humanoid body parts are completely omitted. It raises questions about our disgust towards the way we are physically - our bodies' functions and form. It seems to question why we react a certain way to what should be seen as natural, and how strong that reaction is or is not.

While there does not appear to be a visual connection, her works which are more mechanical work together with her works that look more organic. How can something which looks so natural and human disgust us so much, and how can we find something endearing when it's clearly made of metal and rubber and makes no attempt to disguise that fact?

Exhibition Crit

I had a seminar and missed part of the crit, so my work was not spoken about, and in a way I think I am glad. As it was, so much was said that I felt applied to my work. I think I attempt to say too much in my work. I think I always have. I'm influenced by artists like Taryn Simon whose work tends to speak to us about fairly specific things, but I'm realising that there's a simplicity to work like hers - a simplicity that my work is missing. She might be photographing a large group of orphans, and that photograph may say a lot about society and people, but this is not achieved by piles of symbolism and captions and drama. The photographs show us complex emotion in an uncomplicated way. Michael Landy's 'Break Down' said so much about material objects and what they mean. It spoke about more than just consumerism or the way we live, but this was all achieved by a very simple action. The act of destroying all his possessions may have been dramatic, but it was a clean, simple idea. And the thought and discussion that came out of that was immense. The work itself was not what was doing the wondering and rambling.

Smile

from the webcomic, "A Softer World"

Telling people that they should smile because they're pretty when they smile or some shit is surprisingly common. Not only that:

- it is even more patronising

- it is just as insensitive

- it assumes that everyone aims to be pretty

- it assumes that whatever they are feeling is more trivial than appearance

- it reduces sentient humans to decorative objects

Obviously I would never get mad at someone who had good intentions, I just mean that I would choose HONESTY over the appearance of happiness. You can be honest about how you personally feel, without bringing other people down. In fact, it's actually even possible to cheer people up who feel just as bad as you without putting on a fake smile. Being honest about not being a steaming bowl of perkiness does not have to have negative consequences.

I have a sort of collage thing and a video relating to this (I already mentioned the video as I've already mentioned this).

Crudeness

Jake and Dinos Chapman's "Little Death Machine (Castrated)" (1993) - This month, I saw this in person for the first time.

As I've stated before, there's a lot I don't like about the Chapman brothers. However, there are some things I like a lot. I like the idea of using skill and intelligence for something "immature" or "crude" or just fun. We have that choice. Immaturity and crudeness is fun, and I don't like the assumption that it always comes with simply not knowing any better. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with crude humour, and I like the idea that we can use our intellect to create something that is not intellectual. This machine is an example of technical skill used to create something violent and obscene, and I think it makes a good point: if the creation of objects like that is a waste of intellect, WHY? Is there a J. S. Mill-type snob in the sky judging us on how we use our minds and time, and what we get amusement from? Personally I do not think so. 

Coming off the topic of crudeness, here is another example of intelligence being meshed with silliness. - http://xkcd.com/441/ (shown below)

(from the webcomic "xkcd" - www.xkcd.com)

Continuing From That Idea...

When I give people my sketchbook to draw in, they sometimes seem conscious that they might 'ruin' something or damage the other work. Sometimes it's like they, as non-art students, are more careful about my drawings than the other non-art students' drawings. Sometimes they're just being careful because they don't want to ruin someone's sketchbook. That seems fair, although personally I don't ever worry that a friend will manage to 'ruin' my work. I think it's sort of the opposite. I'm not too careful about my sketchbooks until a friend draws in them. Then all of a sudden they have to be kept either with me or at home at all times... they become sentimental. So sometimes they see more value in my work, possibly because I may have spent some time or effort on it, but generally I see more value in their work because I'm interested in them as humans and I see them as intelligent, fascinating beings and I couldn't care less whether they "can" or "can't" draw, or how much time or thought they did or didn't spend on the drawing. Sometimes the quick, effortless things are the things I find most valuable as I feel that they came naturally, and thus they say more about the person.

I should maybe eat so that I can think straight and type less gibberishly. Never mind.

So essentially I don't think my drawings matter any more than theirs. That seems obvious when I put it that way, but I mean that even if I put a lot of time and effort into something, I still don't find it more worth the paper it's on than a friend's crayon doodle. I want to know what they'd draw if I gave them something I spent time on, and told them to draw over it. I think I also want to take some things I put effort into and put them with people's crayon doodles, or shred or destroy them in the same way, or mix them together.

I think something I want to do is get some instructions for an art piece from a "non-artist." I want to follow those instructions and treat them as important, and put effort and care into whatever it is. So maybe I'll get someone to tell me something to draw, or something to carve into stone. Just a random, quick idea from a person who doesn't consider themselves an artist, to treat with as much care as an idea I carefully thought out.

What Would People Write...

...If I gave them each a piece of paper and told them to write (or draw) anything they wanted, and told them I'd put them up in a public space (the exhibition) without seeing it beforehand, no matter how offensive/strange/stupid/questionable/personal/embarrassing it was?

Cynicism

I think cynicism is something which shows up in stuff I make sometimes, and that is possibly something which contrasts with the childlike aspects. But I think the cynicism tends to be in response to fake cheeriness, which is a very adult thing. Also, I was a very cynical child, and I tended to see through adult phoniness (when I was little, a priest asked my mum why I was so rude to him... her exact words: "because she can smell a phony from afar).

Exhibition Planning

I think my work needs to be shown as an installation. It can be a tiny, cramped installation if space is too limited, but I really feel like what I've created are pieces of a whole. I feel like I'm building a little world of childlike honesty - uncensored views of the world, insane happiness, hysterical sadness, bluntness, and things which are sugar-coated but not disguised. Some of the work aims to approach sad or disturbing aspects of life with childlike honesty, and other pieces of work attack patronising views or phony happiness, for example by parodying them. I think the link is that the work is to do with uncensored thoughts and freedom to feel (even though I find the word "feelings" completely repulsive).

Hysterical Laugh-Sobbing

I think humour and sadness mix well, and I have just realised that that is important to my work. There is sometimes an extremely ridiculous side to human emotion, and I think it feels beautiful and refreshing and crazy to find the humour in your own sadness.

Hysterical laugh-sobbing... I know for a fact I'm not the only one.

Mood Questionnaires And Similar Things

Mood questionnaires and charts and things that people sometimes make you fill out ("How do you feel today?" etc.) are always really vague, oversimplified or patronising. I wonder what they would be like if they were SPECIFIC and GENUINE, and acknowledged that humans and their lives can be complex. I am going to try making one of these.

Raymond Pettibon's "No Title (Do I Bother)"

I saw this at Sadie Coles HQ.

Comic-y art is interesting because it can be so dramatic despite being a cartoon, and create a world that is complex and real in its own way. It's intriguing how work that is completely flat can have so much depth and mystery.

Laura Keeble's "I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing!"

I saw this at the John Moores Painting Prize 2012 and I like it a lot. I like working with found objects, and I like the contrast between the delicate work and the trash it is painted on. The title seems to be a reference to an advertising campaign of Coca-Cola's which was fairly annoying and unrealistically perky and cheery, and of course had nothing to do with the product and was an instance of a giant corporation attempting to seem cute and friendly. This piece creates a visual of all that being stomped on.

I seem to be building up a theme of attacking false perkiness with cynicism. Maybe there's too much fake smiling going on, or maybe I'm devolving into Holden Caulfield. It's like I'm eleven again.

Contrast and Stuff 2

Borgore - Guided Relaxation Dub

Because CONTRAST AND STUFF.

Contrast and Stuff

Something I use a lot in my work is contrast. Sometimes it reminds me a bit of the Chapman brothers. I try to stay away from this, as I find their ideas cheap, easy and formulaic. Their work tends to seem a bit like: 1. pick something cute/childlike/innocent/classic/traditional, 2. pick something grotesque/crude/offensive, 3. mash them together.

Then again, sometimes I think I read too much into it, and it's all just a unique way of showcasing technical skill (which they definitely seem to have). I could also not be reading far enough into it. There could be some sort of subtle, intriguing idea behind each of their works that they just aren't explaining.

This is where I must abruptly start thinking in bullet points.

A thing I like:

'Hold My Hand' by Kimya Dawson

"it sucks when for a little kid living means lying

and the only place you feel safe is pretending you're flying
and you'd rather be caught dead than be caught crying
will you hold my hand?

abuse and neglect are highly contagious so
i called that social worker up and i said "hey lady you're outrageous"
she said "smarty-pants, you want a gold star?" i said
"no i wanna bash your head in with a crowbar, but
the cycle of violence has to end somewhere"

come and take a swim with me
we'll wait underwater patiently
for the output of endorphins as we're swallowed by the sea
will you hold my hand?
will you hold my hand?
will you hold my hand?"

Because:

- This song brings childlike innocence and harsh realities together.

- I find it interesting how it sounds naive, but in a way is the opposite of that; if you deal with awful, damaging things and come out of it still childlike and innocent, you have to have been tough in some way.

Liverpool Biennial 2012

I will say something about this soon.

Strangers Telling You To Smile, and Similar Stupid Crap

At the end of last year, some twee little print-outs started appearing on the walls of the Camberwell/Chelsea/Wimbledon Progression Centre. They were preaching something about how we should all smile because it tricks our brains into thinking we're happy and blah blah blah... we've all heard it before. I don't know where they came from. They could have been part of someone's work, or they could have been an idea of a staff member (the type who's also into "team building exercises" and probably at one point has used the phrase "cool beans"). I wasn't really curious, and I also wasn't that irritated by them, no matter how I sound right now. However, I do find the whole business of "advice" of that sort really patronising. Stuff about how many more muscles it takes to frown than to smile (completely ignoring the fact that using more muscles is generally considered a positive thing)... or when strangers tell you to smile, presumably because they've mistaken your normal face for an angry one or something like that (and since when did it become socially acceptable to give orders to random strangers? Whether it's to "smile" or to "roll over," it's not okay)... it's a shame that crap like this has to be the face of positivity. Being happy is a VERY GOOD THING, but thoughtless "advice" does not solve anyone's problems. "Turn that frown upside down!" may have worked for someone at some point, but now it's just cliched and meaningless, and throwing it at people at random points is likely to have a bad effect. Generic, overused advice is sort of like a crowbar in a way. Crowbars were designed for a specific purpose, but people just hit things with them. All advice becomes shitty advice when you use it thoughtlessly. Please don't put up posters telling everyone to smile as if you've assumed that no one has any real problems. And please don't tell strangers to smile as if their current mood is just a mistake and they have no reason to be that way. (And please don't assume people are unhappy based on nothing.)

To sum up! Silly advice. Crowbars. I have made a short video based on this.

Sincerity and Children

Children's programmes can be very twee and insincere. They're overly censored, artificially bright and happy, and just seem completely the opposite of honest. They are an adult's dishonest views on childlike things - adults pretending to like silly songs and simple crafts.

Children are often very sincere. While I am absolutely not one of those people who glorifies childlike innocence and thinks everything they do is special, I have to say that children are usually the most sincere people (when I was little I liked to glare at priests while they tried to shake my hand, while my mum did not share this... hobby). They will say what they mean and not see a reason to hide how they feel.

I am not sure where I'm going with this.

Tracey Emin has that childlike sincerity, I think. She can be vulgar, but I think it's more vulgar when people pretend not to be. We are not children, so to pretend to be as innocent as children would be lying. Tracey Emin puts things very simply in her work and in what she says. She deals with mature topics in a blunt, childlike way, and the raw, real emotion she conveys is moving and genuine.

(Tracey Emin, "Self Presovasion," 2005)

I think if children's TV presenters were actually just big children like they pretend to be, they'd be a lot more open and blunt. I'd love to hear a Teletubbie (sp?) whine about menstrual cramps.

Making Other People Draw Things

I have started collecting drawings from other people in an attempt to assemble something a bit like a collection of people's thoughts. The first time I asked people to draw things for me (they were given captions such as, "draw someone who makes you happy"), I felt that the drawings were a little too mature and sophisticated. I wanted some of the drawings to ask personal, awkward or sinister questions whilst prodding at their inner children. I felt like it would be less genuine if I actually stated that the drawings were intended to be a bit childlike, so I tried again, setting the tone by enforcing the use of crayons, stating that the drawings had to take around twenty seconds each, and mixing in simple, literal requests such as, "draw an apple." This, along with choosing people who did not consider themselves artistically inclined, yielded results a lot closer to what I was looking for.

I am also interested in found objects, and have been playing with the definition of "scrap paper." Are some things too important to be "scrap paper"? What happens when I am deliberately thoughtless with what I use as "scrap paper"? Is it an immature and cheap way of attempting to get a reaction if I destroy a Bible in the process of creating my work, or is it just... recycling? I think I want to destroy a passport next.

What I Am Thinking About In My Work Currently

- contrasting the childlike with a lack of naivete
- how childlike honesty/sincerity is applied to issues that are not 'childlike'
- things that are harmless but are considered inappropriate for children

Studio Work So Far

During summer, I filled two sketchbooks with an array of ridiculous things, some disgusting and immature, some vaguely sweet, and some from friends. I feel much more attached to and inspired by this work than a lot of my other work. I had banned myself from gallery visits, having completely overdone that whole business during my foundation course. I feel like this gave me a chance to let my own interests and passions speak louder, so these two books are a very clear and honest indication of what inspires me. I think I am going to expand this body of work, and from that I will draw connections to other work. I will avoid overloading myself with research and letting the research dictate what I do. I plan to make every effort to keep the sense of freedom that I felt in creating my silly, crayon-filled books.

Essentially:

- I need to find my own interests, THEN research things (as opposed to picking the most interesting parts out of a huge mass of research)

- avoiding attempts to be skillful or intelligent helps me to realise what I am actually, honestly interested in (and this should be the starting point; the other things can come back in afterwards)

- feeling free when I create work is important

- I would like my work to be as honest and genuine as a maths student's doodle of a penis

"Cultural Orienteering" Task

I have lived in London my whole life, but the city still feels new. It continues to amaze and confuse me how you can get off the tube in one place, find yourself in the middle of a sea of suits and coffee, walk for just a couple of minutes more and find that your surroundings have completely transformed into a haven for pseudo-bohemians, with every shop attempting to look like a quirky, family-run business. You then walk in an arbitrarily chosen direction for approximately thirty seconds and suddenly the second-hand shops are full of clothes which are not so much "pre-loved" as "pre-urinated on," and the graffiti is about as inspiring as the foam spilling out of the mouth of the woman claiming that her baby (which she has presumably left somewhere) has gone blue in the face and instead of, say, calling an ambulance, what she needs is to feed it baby formula (which you must fund) right this second, whether the thing is still conscious or not. What I mean to say is that being set a task that involves exploring a part of London still counts as "exploring," as it is so varied. Luckily it is varied enough that I didn't encounter similar Mother-of-the-Year-types while carrying out this task.

The first stop was Borough Market, which is probably a place that it would be easy to be cynical about if it weren't so pleasant. The surrounding area has an artsy feel, being dotted with quirky shop fronts which preserve historical-looking architectural details under coats of gaudy paint, somehow in a vaguely charming way. Matching this, the market is filled with food chains sneakily disguised as small businesses. Their customers (who are mostly either wearing flannel shirts or suits, with no in-between) probably notice that the stalls' signs are just printed to look like they were hand-drawn in chalk as opposed to actually having been hand-drawn, but they don't seem to care. A comfortable, quirky atmosphere has been created, and people looking for lunch are not necessarily going to be that fussed how "genuine" the whole experience is. The quirky feel and multitude of things to see help to make up for the fact that all these people are going to have to eat standing up or walking around. The market is covered, but not indoors, mainly relying on the warm, family feel to distract from the British weather. Faux-vintage signs stating, "We are a smoke-free market," and sign-posts with hands indicating where to queue give instructions more gently than the usual bold red signs.

The White Cube, Bermondsey both fits with the artistic nature of the area while ensuring that it contrasts dramatically with the surrounding galleries. The clinical and futuristic decor boasts both its funds and size, and the wide corridors and white walls establish a sterile but peaceful breathing space which creates a separation between this gallery and the more cluttered surroundings. The gallery seems to embrace the industrial appearance of the building, aiming to look both cold and powerful. The environment feels controlled, but the sheer amount of breathing space prevents a tense feeling, so people wander around the artworks slowly and quietly, and do not disturb the peace.

Getting to the Drawing Room involves going through a car park and ringing a doorbell, but like many smaller galleries which require guests to be buzzed in, there is a friendly greeter to balance out the unwelcoming nature of the building and ensure that people know that guests are expected and welcomed. The building also has an industrial appearance, but unlike in the White Cube's case, this has been countered and balanced rather than embraced. There is a more humble feeling, both to the building itself and the way its industrial appearance has been toned down and disguised instead of being used as "cutting-edge" style inspiration. There is less of a meticulous attention to detail. While the White Cube either highlights or completely hides functional aspects of its building, the Drawing Room simply makes them less noticeable. For example, the pipes and brickwork are painted white as opposed to either being completely hidden or emphasised in a purposeful and creative way. Either from lack of funds or simply not feeling the need, the Drawing Room is simply about the art and not the building.

Jerwood Space is another gallery whose location seems to stem from practical factors such as cost. It is not as hidden away as the Drawing Room; finding it requires a relatively straight-forward walk from Southwark tube station, but there is no dramatic lead-up to the entrance like there is to the Tate Modern, nor is there a large space seemingly dedicated to stopping and staring at the building, like there is in front of the White Cube, Bermondsey. It seems like Jerwood Space has been set up with casual viewers in mind, much more than other small galleries are. The cafe is not completely separated from the gallery space, so the relaxed, chatty atmosphere spills out into the whole area. The white walls are broken up by plants and glass doors. The place is warm and lively, not white and clinical. The walls are much more crowded with artwork than the walls of most other galleries, possibly from lack of space. This gives the feeling of the gallery being much less selective, which is not to say that it appears to favour quantity over quality. It feels like the viewer has more room to decide which works they prefer personally, instead of an all-powerful curator deciding on a select few "important" works as if this whole business is actually not subjective at all and there is a right and wrong which reveals itself only to experts. There seems to be no pretense in this gallery. It is not aiming for a particular style. A sensible, accessible building has been chosen and furnished to create an informal, social atmosphere, much like a cafe would be designed.

The Tate Modern sits comfortably near well-known landmarks, having become a landmark itself. The Millennium Bridge leads straight up to it, creating an immense build-up, in theory. This is possibly only true for tourists, of which there are many - dramatically more than in less well-known galleries, anyway. The Tate Modern is another converted industrial building, but apart from the curiously high ceilings the interior shows very few signs of having ever been anything but a gallery. There appears to have been sufficient funds to renovate the entire colossal thing. Differing from galleries such as Hauser & Wirth, the space is too large for people to feel silently judged by some sort of part-time gallery assistant in the corner, and the atmosphere is almost like that of a shopping centre. It is casual, less intimate and less controlled. People are comfortable talking, and taking a sneaky photograph is definitely possible.

(All photos on this entry are 'borrowed' - I hope that is okay.)

Blankets As Makeshift Hugs

I'm creating this blog for my Fine Art BA at Chelsea. I hope the evil internet forces don't somehow automatically post these things on my Facebook account or something horrifying like that.

I didn't really get into using the blog I was supposed to be keeping during my foundation year. It felt forced; trying to document an organic process using a glitchy, irritating website and a ton of sloppily cropped images just didn't come naturally to me. However, I am now slightly feeling that keeping some sort of commentary of my studio work and contextual research will probably benefit the long-winded side of me quite nicely. I'll attempt to stop wasting sketchbook space on repetitive rambles in illegible crayon writing.

I could possibly explain the title, but probably not. I think I've used it before for multiple things I didn't really use. It just seemed to fit the kind of work I'm making at the moment; I don't know if it's cute or just sad.