Dating back to 2012, the three posts that first set out my thinking behind the Spheres (I've left out most of the images here; to view those, click on the dates in the blog Archive list):
17 August 2012 (An Initial Glimpse ...)...into some of the things I've been working on these past few months:
straddling ceramics and sculpture, i.e. using the techniques used in ceramics to make sculpture
exploring Fragility:
Before firing, with the end of the final coil still intact
Post firing, with the end of the final coil broken
Working with very fragile spherical forms, which will - and do - incur some damage during the making and firing, to reflect my inquiry into the subject of the fragility of life. The plan at the moment is to make a large number of these of various sizes, to form an installation ultimately. Each sphere represents a life and is made up of one continuous coil (usually in ceramics the coils in hand-built forms are cut to size and the individual coils are then superimposed, forming a stack rather than a spiral). The coil spirals in repetitive circles/cycles - expansion and contraction - reflecting the cycle of life; and the breakages reflecting the fragility of life.
I really enjoy the meditative nature of this work and am beginning to perceive this as a key element in what I do.I joined a ceramics studio for a few months this spring/summer (hence, in the previous post, the images from the Ceramics Department at the V&A, which I visited on several occasions during that time) to explore the techniques used by ceramicists - and indulge my love of clay - with a view to using these in my sculpture work.
Very early on I began to want to leave the making process visible, not smoothing the coils out but showing how the object is made.
The first four spheres have test-fired well so I now feel the time is right to continue the process. I have grouped the four spheres together and the plan is to make several more and make an installation. All the spheres will be either white or black or a combination of the two. They will be of varying sizes.
My primary concern is to let the material and the process speak and for me to be simply there as an aid:
- making the process visible. I use the coiling technique which is a technique used in ceramics, but ceramicists tend to smooth out the coils; I want the process to remain visible. The spheres are made up of one continuous coil spiralling upwards - again, normally ceramicists use a process of cutting the coils to size and then placing one coil on top of another: cut to size, place, cut to size, place, and so on. I want this spiralling of one coil to remain visible too;
- inviting imperfections - cracks, uneven textures, small fractures, etc. - to reflect 'fragility', but more importantly to leave visible the way in which the type of clay I'm using behaves;
- the sphere, the spiral, expansion and contraction, growth and decay, all of which are universal.
These spheres are originally inspired by my consciousness of the fragility of life. These thoughts coalesced with my discovering and enjoying the delicacy of this new clay I was using, a delicacy that infers fragility.
I initially intended to make this 'theme' a prominent element in the presentation of this piece (this is what I have tended to do in the past), but it occurred to me as I woke this morning that this would make the presence of me as the artist too manifest. The spheres must speak for themselves; the viewer must be allowed to/invited to connect with these spheres in their own individual way. So I shall keep the 'philosophizing' to myself (unless otherwise invited, of course!). Making these spheres is a deeply meditative process though, a process I very much enjoy, so the thinking is very much an integral part of the work.
My plans for exhibiting this piece are beginning to come together. I have always taken delight in the way objects/sculptures that are grouped together function very differently from one object/sculpture on its own. These - very quiet, peaceful - spheres speak so much louder when they're grouped together.
As I have said before, I intend to make a large installation with these and then show them in a way that sits more comfortably with how I feel art should be shown: the prime motive being not the usual commercial one but endeavouring to bring something new, a new exhibition experience to the viewer. I'm also examining the feasibility of the concept of not having these spheres for sale in the usual way, but inviting viewers to take one away as a memory of their experience of the show - the experience being what I want to stay with people rather than the buying of an object/a commodity. This would be one of the spheres that speaks to them most, with which they find a particular connection.
The idea that a connection is then created between these people, invisible, existing at a non-physical level. This could be taken further, with some of these people coming together after a year or so to share with each other the 'further life' of their sphere - how they, friends, family have enjoyed it, incidents around it, etc. - and they could bring friends and family who might also like to have one of the spheres. (This would mean I would have been making more in the meantime.) And so the connection continues to grow in depth and in scope, and another kind of sculpture would be beginning to be created, one that functions at a human/social level.
I also like the idea that the spheres themselves are building a life of their own, separate from me directly. This, of course, is the case with all art objects, indeed with all objects, with everything physical on the planet: nothing remains exactly as it is, everything is constantly evolving; we're just not always conscious of that fact.
3 August 2012 ('These Associations' by Tino Seghal) I came away from the Tate that day totally uplifted by the energy that pulsated between the people there, the joy of human interaction. As an artist mostly working in isolation, I find the materials Seghal uses, i.e. people and time, hugely appealing. What better materials to use? Universal; archetypal.
Having said that, in relation to my own work, I haven't come from a dance background - Seghal studied both Dance and Political Economy - so my form of expression is very much grounded in the 'making'. I enjoy the physical making process, the building, the shaping ... (and the writing about). I just need to find a way to reconcile this desire to make with this other yearning, not to add to all that 'stuff' that's being produced nowadays.And, 23 August 2014 (Something Beautiful Happened This Morning) also refers to the Spheres.
