It’s been a long time since I’ve posted; It’s been a long time since I’ve focused on making work. My partner Bruce reminds me that the work I do as a teacher is part of my creative practice. There’s no doubt it’s been an especially stimulating semester (with courses on the monster and the face in representation), but I’m keen to start drawing again in earnest.
I intend to develop a text-based project that responds to Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel, Frankenstein. Rather than focusing on text as a form of explication or narrative I want the words I draw to shift and twist, both literally and figuratively.
The words I’ve started drawing in a small notebook (from Thailand!) are used within the book to refer to Frankenstein’s creature, who remains unnamed throughout the narrative.
My Memory Festival project, All that was left, uses text extracted from the other festival projects, but only uses those parts of the text that don’t convey specific meaning. Something has been said or is about to be said, but the message is lost.
The installation is up and available for viewing at the Roundhouse Community Centre until Sunday, Nov 18. The opening celebration takes place this evening (Nov 14) beginning at 5:30 pm.
Here’s what the stacks of text looked like before I started the installation on Monday:
Good documentation of artwork is important––especially if you produce site-specific installations. Unfortunately, I’ve “lost” a number of my projects by not getting proper documentation.
The photos I take of my work aren’t bad…I use them all the time to illustrate this blog. But having a professional photographer document my projects makes a big difference.
On the left is my photo, using a compact digital camera; on the right, a similar view by Scott Massey (SITE photography).
This may be obvious, but there’s something deeply satisfying about having my work on display in an exhibition.
My blog is subtitled “negotiating doubt” with good reason—as I’ve noted elsewhere: “The process of naming oneself as an artist is perilous. My identity as an artist never remains fixed and constant. It fluctuates according to my work schedule, the professional opportunities I’m given, or the time elapsed since I’ve last completed a work.”
Having my work in a gallery is an important acknowledgement of my identity as an artist. I don’t stop being an artist when my work isn’t being shown publicly, but the process of identification is more tenuous and subject to doubt.