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Sunday, 5 January 2014
Saturday, 4 January 2014
A Hanging Experiment
Assessing alternative ways of displaying the 'form-finding' pieces. Coming away from piercing the form - which I'm beginning to see as a violation - i.e. drilling a hole in it, and then fixing it (permanently) onto a base or plinth.
I'm increasingly interested in a more moveable, adaptable approach to present a piece, so, for instance, it could be suspended (as below), hung up on the wall (for the more two-dimensional pieces), or simply placed on an available surface or on a prepared, pre-determined surface. The piece isn't 'fixed' in any way, so can be moved around, displayed in different ways to suit the environment, the intention or the mood. With the potential of being ever-changing, always slightly different, if indeed that is what is desired.
I'm increasingly interested in a more moveable, adaptable approach to present a piece, so, for instance, it could be suspended (as below), hung up on the wall (for the more two-dimensional pieces), or simply placed on an available surface or on a prepared, pre-determined surface. The piece isn't 'fixed' in any way, so can be moved around, displayed in different ways to suit the environment, the intention or the mood. With the potential of being ever-changing, always slightly different, if indeed that is what is desired.
And the same for one my 'painted sculptures'; a less visible mode of suspension, giving a sense of it floating in mid air:
I'm still in no hurry to exhibit: it allows me to focus on developing work and re-evaluate how and where I want to show my work in the future. A new kiln, expected to arrive at the end of January, will also bring new progressions, developments and perspectives.
Thursday, 2 January 2014
An Example ...
... of where to act ... and when to stop - as per the first quote in the previous post, and, in the second quote, the cross-permeation of artist, material and process.
Also, an example of a different kind of process and outcome of 'the partnership between the artist and his/her material' referred to in the post dated 24 September 2013, entitled 'Form Finding - Continued', making full use of happenstance.
The outcome - or one of them - of a throwing session (throwing as in forming clay on a wheel, not actually hurling pots through the air, which no doubt would be fun and might also bring up some interesting things of course ...) that aimed to see how far I could 'steer' the clay to the point of collapse. What appeals to me and interests me in this piece, what I find very beautiful, is the sense of movement starting in the central spiral and culminating round the outer edge, a dynamic gesture that came about in a tiny window of time, a split second that occurred between the stage of simply a sloppy pot and over-fatigued clay. It is imbued with spontaneity, yet my decision to take it that far, to stop there, and to keep it was extremely measured.
Usually the aim when throwing a pot is to achieve a perfect (symmetrical) equilibrium, a static gesture, a stillness. All the other pieces went into the recycle bin; this one has a vivacious balance. It is also unique, in the sense that it is absolutely singular, unrepeatable:
Also, an example of a different kind of process and outcome of 'the partnership between the artist and his/her material' referred to in the post dated 24 September 2013, entitled 'Form Finding - Continued', making full use of happenstance.
The outcome - or one of them - of a throwing session (throwing as in forming clay on a wheel, not actually hurling pots through the air, which no doubt would be fun and might also bring up some interesting things of course ...) that aimed to see how far I could 'steer' the clay to the point of collapse. What appeals to me and interests me in this piece, what I find very beautiful, is the sense of movement starting in the central spiral and culminating round the outer edge, a dynamic gesture that came about in a tiny window of time, a split second that occurred between the stage of simply a sloppy pot and over-fatigued clay. It is imbued with spontaneity, yet my decision to take it that far, to stop there, and to keep it was extremely measured.
Usually the aim when throwing a pot is to achieve a perfect (symmetrical) equilibrium, a static gesture, a stillness. All the other pieces went into the recycle bin; this one has a vivacious balance. It is also unique, in the sense that it is absolutely singular, unrepeatable:
Two Quotes
Two quotes to see in the new year:
"One could say that any child could make a drawing like Twombly only in the sense that any fool with a hammer could fragment sculptures as Rodin did, or any house painter could spatter paint as well as Pollock. In none of these cases would it be true. In each case the art lies not so much in the finesse of the individual mark, but in the orchestration of a previously uncodified set of personal 'rules' about where to act and where not, how far to go and when to stop, in such a way as the cumulative courtship of seeming chaos defines an original, hybrid kind of order, which in turn illuminates a complex sense of human experience not voiced or left marginal in previous art." By Kirk Varnedoe, 1994, who wanted to defend Twombly's seemingly random marks and splashes of paint against the criticism that 'This is just scribbles - my kid could do it'.
"If a heavy stone happens to hit glass, the glass breaks. That happens as a matter of course. But if an artist's ability to act as a mediator is weak, there will be no more to see than a trivial physical accident. Then again, if the breakage conforms too closely to the intention of the artist, the result will be dull. It will also be devoid of interest if the mediation of the artist is haphazard. Something has to come out of the relationship of tension represented by the artist, the glass, and the stone. It is only when a fissure results from the cross-permeation of the three elements in this triangular relationship that, for the first time, the glass becomes an object of art." By Lee Ufan
"One could say that any child could make a drawing like Twombly only in the sense that any fool with a hammer could fragment sculptures as Rodin did, or any house painter could spatter paint as well as Pollock. In none of these cases would it be true. In each case the art lies not so much in the finesse of the individual mark, but in the orchestration of a previously uncodified set of personal 'rules' about where to act and where not, how far to go and when to stop, in such a way as the cumulative courtship of seeming chaos defines an original, hybrid kind of order, which in turn illuminates a complex sense of human experience not voiced or left marginal in previous art." By Kirk Varnedoe, 1994, who wanted to defend Twombly's seemingly random marks and splashes of paint against the criticism that 'This is just scribbles - my kid could do it'.
"If a heavy stone happens to hit glass, the glass breaks. That happens as a matter of course. But if an artist's ability to act as a mediator is weak, there will be no more to see than a trivial physical accident. Then again, if the breakage conforms too closely to the intention of the artist, the result will be dull. It will also be devoid of interest if the mediation of the artist is haphazard. Something has to come out of the relationship of tension represented by the artist, the glass, and the stone. It is only when a fissure results from the cross-permeation of the three elements in this triangular relationship that, for the first time, the glass becomes an object of art." By Lee Ufan
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