Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
vivendo
dear ganzfeld,
i'm sorry i've been so absent, but i'm away from home and preoccupied by life and living and having amazing experiences which are shaping my future work and movements in ways i'm not even aware of right now.
too much to talk about than i know what to do with, but soon, soon
meanwhile, some notes i've made, things i've picked up, overheard, artworks, artists:
"walk on by, mr business man. you can't wear the clothes i wear"
"our still lives (keep falling)"
jess macneil
yullis vegetarian surry hills
"jumpology"
"cookies advertised for their home-baked quality as having 'no identical shapes' haha!"
"the english bring their cows and cut down the trees, but out of the cow shit grow magic mushrooms, eyes open, trees are planted. nature knows"
"i'm interested only in expressing basic human emotions - tragedy, ecstasy, doom and so on"
"i was a schizerino from the sole of my boots to the tips of my hair. i lived exclusively in the gerundive"
wolfgang tillmans
"freischwimmer 30 and 40, 2003"
prism tower, aloys gangkofner
the la trobe reading room
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
recently
I invite you to follow the Inter Collective's new project, Trans Continent, which will at this stage exist in cyber space, but eventually in more tangible spaces too, hopefully. (so long blogger, hello wordpress!)
I've started writing for e-zine SixThousand (sign up for weekly newsletters in your inbox, or visit the daily updated site)
and... I made myself a flikr account.
I've started writing for e-zine SixThousand (sign up for weekly newsletters in your inbox, or visit the daily updated site)
and... I made myself a flikr account.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
No Knead (Inter Collective) - LIMV Cookbook II Launch, Friday May 8 2009
10 'stations' are set up around the venue, each with a different theme (eg. Safari - rye•chunky relish•cheese•butter [optional]). Bread maker, electric breadknife, camping table, tablecloth, teatowel, butter dish, butter, chopping board, butter knife, topping, paper serviettes. The bread makers are synchronised, baking their loaves, and the timer on each bread maker counts down the synchronised minutes until the loaves are ready. As the night draws to 11pm the smell of bread fills the venue. 10 apron-clad assistants march out of the kitchen area in a line carrying their respective toppings and file out to their respective stations. At 11pm as The Bank Holidays finish their set, the apron-wearers throw fistfuls of flour into the air and pull out their bread from the ovens, shaking the loaves out onto boards and slicing them up with the electric knives. Crowds are gathered around each station, eagerly, hungrily, watching as the first slice is spread with the topping and eaten by the station-man, immediately after which every last crumb (literally) is devoured by the audience.
The No Knead project (a 'live installation') had been a long time in the making. Working with food was something the Inter Collective had been interested in for a while, and so when the Love Is My Velocity Cookbook II was announced, we figured it was the perfect opportunity. The major part of the work happened at the launch of the cookbook, which took place on a Friday night at the Hellenic Centre in Northbridge, with bands playing etc etc. We also had a diagram/drawing relating to the installation in the cookbook, and the installation continued (on a much smaller, single-station scale) after the launch every day at the cookbook exhibition.
The premise for the piece was to provide a multi-sensory art experience, a new experience of the everyday: integrating the ‘art’ within the social setting of the ‘music event’ so that the experience and enjoyment of both are not separate but collapse into each other. One of the major factors determining the success of the piece was that people interacted. We had been hungry for a direct and complete interaction with our work since the laneway project and so in this project, a lot of thought went into how best to make this happen.
Art which demands more from people than simply looking at it on a wall; art which dignifies the viewer/participant to play a part in it, activate the artwork, help it to exist. Categorically speaking, the piece begins from the initial kneading of the yeast, flour and water, and does not end until the bread is metabolically processed and digested.
From our experience, people can find this kind of art somewhat intimidating, particularly when it's interrupting a norm they are used to and comfortable within, or asking them to take part or be involved. It can be a really daunting experience for audiences, and if interaction doesn't really occur, we are left with a mutual feeling of misunderstanding and confusion... which is completely opposite to everything we aim for in our practice.
So, we went about building this project by drawing on the simplest and most familiar elements we could think of. Asking nothing of the audience but that they eat the bread. Bread, the most basic of food items. We took care to make the work visually engaging, so that every detail was clearly intentional, and were conscious not to force people into participating but rather provide them with a set of circumstances so simple and natural that they would take that initiative to be a part of the artwork themselves.
Sometimes it's not always the easiest route to be passive and wait for people to make that action, but it's always the most rewarding, and provides the truest, most genuine interaction.
The premise for the piece was to provide a multi-sensory art experience, a new experience of the everyday: integrating the ‘art’ within the social setting of the ‘music event’ so that the experience and enjoyment of both are not separate but collapse into each other. One of the major factors determining the success of the piece was that people interacted. We had been hungry for a direct and complete interaction with our work since the laneway project and so in this project, a lot of thought went into how best to make this happen.
Art which demands more from people than simply looking at it on a wall; art which dignifies the viewer/participant to play a part in it, activate the artwork, help it to exist. Categorically speaking, the piece begins from the initial kneading of the yeast, flour and water, and does not end until the bread is metabolically processed and digested.
From our experience, people can find this kind of art somewhat intimidating, particularly when it's interrupting a norm they are used to and comfortable within, or asking them to take part or be involved. It can be a really daunting experience for audiences, and if interaction doesn't really occur, we are left with a mutual feeling of misunderstanding and confusion... which is completely opposite to everything we aim for in our practice.
So, we went about building this project by drawing on the simplest and most familiar elements we could think of. Asking nothing of the audience but that they eat the bread. Bread, the most basic of food items. We took care to make the work visually engaging, so that every detail was clearly intentional, and were conscious not to force people into participating but rather provide them with a set of circumstances so simple and natural that they would take that initiative to be a part of the artwork themselves.
Sometimes it's not always the easiest route to be passive and wait for people to make that action, but it's always the most rewarding, and provides the truest, most genuine interaction.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
i can't wait to be... on the road again
a photographic road trip project by 3 x photographers (1 of whom is a friend o' mine). help them! a road trip in the guise of artistic necessity: i'm inspired.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
where black is the colour and none is the number
i want to paint again. big black holes this time. black on white, patterns, stark shapes, bold, simple, all the colour sucked into the centre.
inky swabs.
i've started reading henry miller again. here we go! gives me reason to write and plan and make a life of art. make art of a life.
waiting for BREAD pictures still...
meantime, something else that's sticking in my mind,
"you've got great arms, i've been watching them the whole time, they do amazing things, they're always moving."
(i drank a lot of coffee that day)
i've been to visit AGWA a bit lately and my visits have been strangely exhillerating. my favourite thing to stand in front of is the Jean Arp piece, "Torso of a Giant". i want to hug it. i want it to hug me, actually, it's huge and has amazing crevices and holes and dips. i stood in front of it for ages, sucking it up. i felt tiny, swallowed in by its bigness.
this is the bronze version... AGWA owns the preliminary plaster version, which gives it a different quality entirely.
something else on my mind this week:
Dale Frank.
as my brilliant companion ranted so eloquently: "there is no context, don't try and tell me there's a context. the work is nothing. but it's also everything, at the same time"
this work makes me think a lot about its relation to my own work. our pursuits are similar, our methodology too, the major difference i see is that Dale Frank's work is assertively masculine, virile (which i love about it), and mine is controlled, fragile, somewhat more feminine. circular. in my view this is something i am aware of, but not shying away from. yes, i am female. yes, there will undeniably be feminine influences to my work. but i'm not a feminist. i could go on, but not really feeling particularly wordy today.
and while we're on the subject, I've also been looking at Alex Spremberg's work again:
and he says:
"I consider paintings to be objects, not pictures.
The work is specific in its conception and its physical presence yet it does not pose any conditions on viewers.
When liquid white meets black both interact and find their place on the surface.
This interaction of opposites becomes even more intricate when variables such as gloss, semi-gloss and matte paints are introduced.
I am interested in initiatives that determine their own inherent results.
Painting that is located between intentional activities and unintentional occurrences.
Processes that create their own dynamics, where works are not made but occur as the result of factors that are beyond my control.
I want to be surprised by my paintings."
I think we need to meet. He is having an exhibition in June...
inky swabs.
i've started reading henry miller again. here we go! gives me reason to write and plan and make a life of art. make art of a life.
waiting for BREAD pictures still...
meantime, something else that's sticking in my mind,
"you've got great arms, i've been watching them the whole time, they do amazing things, they're always moving."
(i drank a lot of coffee that day)
i've been to visit AGWA a bit lately and my visits have been strangely exhillerating. my favourite thing to stand in front of is the Jean Arp piece, "Torso of a Giant". i want to hug it. i want it to hug me, actually, it's huge and has amazing crevices and holes and dips. i stood in front of it for ages, sucking it up. i felt tiny, swallowed in by its bigness.
this is the bronze version... AGWA owns the preliminary plaster version, which gives it a different quality entirely.something else on my mind this week:
Dale Frank.
as my brilliant companion ranted so eloquently: "there is no context, don't try and tell me there's a context. the work is nothing. but it's also everything, at the same time"
this work makes me think a lot about its relation to my own work. our pursuits are similar, our methodology too, the major difference i see is that Dale Frank's work is assertively masculine, virile (which i love about it), and mine is controlled, fragile, somewhat more feminine. circular. in my view this is something i am aware of, but not shying away from. yes, i am female. yes, there will undeniably be feminine influences to my work. but i'm not a feminist. i could go on, but not really feeling particularly wordy today.
and while we're on the subject, I've also been looking at Alex Spremberg's work again:
and he says:
"I consider paintings to be objects, not pictures.
The work is specific in its conception and its physical presence yet it does not pose any conditions on viewers.
When liquid white meets black both interact and find their place on the surface.
This interaction of opposites becomes even more intricate when variables such as gloss, semi-gloss and matte paints are introduced.
I am interested in initiatives that determine their own inherent results.
Painting that is located between intentional activities and unintentional occurrences.
Processes that create their own dynamics, where works are not made but occur as the result of factors that are beyond my control.
I want to be surprised by my paintings."
I think we need to meet. He is having an exhibition in June...
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
the overall strength of a magnet is measured by its "magnetic moment"
just came in from lying out under the stars. everything is vibrating, like magnets, the poles of magnets: repelling, resisting each other with so much energy. so much quivering expectant energy. out of the corner of my eyes i see little iron filings shifting around between the magnets, tiny movements, but everything is sliding, slipping. a single shooting star: it shocks me, as it would anyone after twenty minutes of non-shooting stars. so dramatic after all this subtlety, it had a long tail (does that make it a comet?), a big fuck off comet to end it all and i come inside.
buckminster fuller had undetected bad vision as a kid, making the whole world a mass of blurry coloured circles, and it wasn't until they discovered it and he got glasses that he realised this wasn't how things actually were. it gave him an entirely different perception of how everything fit together. he said he preferred the world when it was blurry.
buckminster fuller had undetected bad vision as a kid, making the whole world a mass of blurry coloured circles, and it wasn't until they discovered it and he got glasses that he realised this wasn't how things actually were. it gave him an entirely different perception of how everything fit together. he said he preferred the world when it was blurry.
Monday, May 18, 2009
HEART BURN. to do to last a few weeks. (you are only coming through in waves)
email alex spremberg, new job, return all the borrowed stuff i'm hoarding, washing, clean room, swim some more, grants, freerange, email jackson, find another book, finish old book, collective website, trans-continental projects, melbourne/sydney, call dad, pump up bike tyres, avocado, frozen peas, finances bleh, 6000 contribution, call roberto the mechanic, myer vouchers, aquarium...
all the tv people look really scary ugly these days. hideously distorted features, makeup. i can't tell if i just never noticed before or if they have actually gotten uglier.
you know when you can focus your vision, or un-focus your vision, rather, so intensely that you can consciously hallucinate? i like that.
it happened to me on the weekend, i drove for a long time, restlessly, before i settled at the foreshore in nedlands, i drove right to the end, where the boats go in, where i could see the moon beaming down on the river. the light was hitting the water so abstractedly, and suddenly i was looking at fish jumping, rain splashing into a pool, ticketape, crazy ants on the tv, static. it was great. i was also sober. yeah. i've been having some really great sober experiences lately, i think it's because i've felt really aware of myself, and my body and my place in the world, that i notice these sensations that i might otherwise be too busy or distracted to notice their effect on my body.
these are great leaps.
p.s. giant translucent elastic pools filled with water, suspended high above, light shining down through the water, argentinian bodies flung through the water, and belly flops, unrelenting fearless impressive belly flops. best tv i've watched in years. thanks eurovision.
all the tv people look really scary ugly these days. hideously distorted features, makeup. i can't tell if i just never noticed before or if they have actually gotten uglier.
you know when you can focus your vision, or un-focus your vision, rather, so intensely that you can consciously hallucinate? i like that.
it happened to me on the weekend, i drove for a long time, restlessly, before i settled at the foreshore in nedlands, i drove right to the end, where the boats go in, where i could see the moon beaming down on the river. the light was hitting the water so abstractedly, and suddenly i was looking at fish jumping, rain splashing into a pool, ticketape, crazy ants on the tv, static. it was great. i was also sober. yeah. i've been having some really great sober experiences lately, i think it's because i've felt really aware of myself, and my body and my place in the world, that i notice these sensations that i might otherwise be too busy or distracted to notice their effect on my body.
these are great leaps.
p.s. giant translucent elastic pools filled with water, suspended high above, light shining down through the water, argentinian bodies flung through the water, and belly flops, unrelenting fearless impressive belly flops. best tv i've watched in years. thanks eurovision.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
bread baked, masses fed
i'm just coming down from the two month long project that was No Knead. And to think it all boiled down to literally minutes and seconds as we started the bread makers at their individually programmed times. I want to write more about it and hopefully get hold of a photo or two but right now i have ONE MORE DEADLINE to make, well two, if we're including the cake i'm going to make my mum this afternoon, but after that i'll have more time.
Come visit us in the old bank in Northbridge (214 William St) over the next 10 days to see the ongoing exhibition. Bread will be baking and ready for consumption around 1 or 2pm every day. Get your carb on!
Come visit us in the old bank in Northbridge (214 William St) over the next 10 days to see the ongoing exhibition. Bread will be baking and ready for consumption around 1 or 2pm every day. Get your carb on!
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
messy room, clear head
i'm really happy. i feel like i've buzzed around all day, was very productive, also fit in some down time, light exercise, happy weather, swam in the sea, read a bit, saw my mum, had good brief meetings with lots of people, worked, was nice to customers, did my job well, ate some good food when i was hungry.. i don't know, actually, this if funny but i get really happy when i'm hungry and then i get to eat. like, hungry hungry. it makes me want life more, and want to try harder. and then eating is so much more satisfying. i talked about art and got excited about it today, it was the first time in a little while i'd felt like i just wanted it all. give it to me! DOING things instead of thinking about them. my room's a mess but my mind is clear. it feels GOOD. days like this are what i live for. weeeeee!
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
laps and rainbows
yesterday i went to the pool. it was the first time i'd been in years. i spent a long time there, just sitting and watching the swimmers. it was a really fine day and the pool seemed quite busy for the middle of the day. i've decided it's time for me to have a small rest from life and not feel guilty about not doing a lot in a day, if i feel that's what i need right now, just to give myself some space. also I've found that doing certain activities in the middle of the day is a very different experience to doing things when everybody else is finished work and also doing them. like, going for a swim, doing grocery shopping, going to see a movie... it's interesting.
anyway, so i bought a pair of goggles and did some laps in the slow lane. my body had to re-teach itself how to swim properly again, like i said, it's been years. but of course, those skills are innate, it took seconds. what i liked about it was the repetitive nature of it, just stroke after stroke, lap after lap, it's very calming and non-taxing on your brain. i also, ironically, got really thirsty and had no water.
swimming like this reminded me of the Matthew Ngui artwork at the John Curtin Gallery for the BEAP festival a couple of years ago. it was a piece that had stuck with me, I really enjoyed it, maybe because of the long dark room with a big calming blue screen of water, a bit like going into an aquarium, something I'm also very interested in lately.
Matthew Ngui, Swimming: at least 8 points of view, digital video/sound
because it was such a nice day the sun reflected through the water and i was struck by how much that aesthetic embodied a lot of what i'm interested in, visually, in my art practice. i know it's quite simple, but i'm really drawn to pure light, which leads, subsequently, to colour. and water, as i noticed while swimming, interacts beautifully with light, producing the most natural arrangement of colours, the spectrum. little rainbows, everywhere. nothing especially profound, but how often do we really allow ourselves to appreciate how nice simple light interaction is?
I found this here, it's by an artist called Andy Gilmore, who also appears to be all about the spectrummmmmmm.
anyway, so i bought a pair of goggles and did some laps in the slow lane. my body had to re-teach itself how to swim properly again, like i said, it's been years. but of course, those skills are innate, it took seconds. what i liked about it was the repetitive nature of it, just stroke after stroke, lap after lap, it's very calming and non-taxing on your brain. i also, ironically, got really thirsty and had no water.
swimming like this reminded me of the Matthew Ngui artwork at the John Curtin Gallery for the BEAP festival a couple of years ago. it was a piece that had stuck with me, I really enjoyed it, maybe because of the long dark room with a big calming blue screen of water, a bit like going into an aquarium, something I'm also very interested in lately.
Matthew Ngui, Swimming: at least 8 points of view, digital video/sound
because it was such a nice day the sun reflected through the water and i was struck by how much that aesthetic embodied a lot of what i'm interested in, visually, in my art practice. i know it's quite simple, but i'm really drawn to pure light, which leads, subsequently, to colour. and water, as i noticed while swimming, interacts beautifully with light, producing the most natural arrangement of colours, the spectrum. little rainbows, everywhere. nothing especially profound, but how often do we really allow ourselves to appreciate how nice simple light interaction is?
I found this here, it's by an artist called Andy Gilmore, who also appears to be all about the spectrummmmmmm.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
easter weekend
a new awareness, and strange succession of things. quiet good friday, quiet streets, walking through a silent still suburbia in the hot sun, those weird naked white trees that look like nude hairless appendages, long long bodies with folds of skin in the creases. the most public of all public holidays. talking on the phone with relatives - vaguely, distant conversation. i try to end it quickly, it is tiring. saturday night at a party. we don't really talk to anyone much. it's fine like this. not that we don't know anyone but it seems unnecessary to make conversation. we hang out in the disco room, the laser light is really cool, when you stand in it's beams, it feels like they're tickling your face, eating your face, a strange sensation. we go home, and after googling "how to roll a cigarette", we smoke. the house is ours. i assemble a quick playlist, which turns out to be perfect. funny how that happens. we fall into a deep quiet. "i feel really light" he says. i say, "i feel really heavy". we mean the same thing. then sleep. easter sunday, a strange mix of friends, family, traditions, feeling homely, a quiet night at work. that night we smoke a little more and watch twin peaks. i am heavy again and notice myself drifting, things slipping. it's ok. reading murakami puts me into an even more hallucinatory mood. today it's overcast, stormy. it smells like rain, the world is tapping by. we listen to In Rainbows. drums and cymbols, ping pong balls. i remember the dream i had last night. of all my clothes being for sale, and people buying all my favourite ones, and me, regrettably, selling them and feeling conflicted. everything is, as far as i can tell, real and happening.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
blog art
i'm meant to be researching residencies, but got disheartened when i read IASKA is not accepting any more applications due to "revising our artist in residence program"
and then i got distracted by looking at the plethora of online material published by and on Lucas Ilhein. he did a residency in Milan (on a development grant from Australia Council) and made this website which has some really really nice things on it. i think he has said this is like his pre-cursor to the blog-art he has more recently been doing, since the technology was not available back in 2000 when he made it. but it's great, i urge you to spend some time on it. obviously, i am particularly drawn to it because there is some italian floating around on the website, and that's always exciting. there's also german and cantonese, so, you know, multi-cultural...
anyway, looking at Lucas' stuff makes me feel like I need to get a whip-snap onto things and make this residency happen. we need it!
and then i got distracted by looking at the plethora of online material published by and on Lucas Ilhein. he did a residency in Milan (on a development grant from Australia Council) and made this website which has some really really nice things on it. i think he has said this is like his pre-cursor to the blog-art he has more recently been doing, since the technology was not available back in 2000 when he made it. but it's great, i urge you to spend some time on it. obviously, i am particularly drawn to it because there is some italian floating around on the website, and that's always exciting. there's also german and cantonese, so, you know, multi-cultural...
anyway, looking at Lucas' stuff makes me feel like I need to get a whip-snap onto things and make this residency happen. we need it!
some huge, cosmic love.
"Sometimes, when one is moving silently through such an utterly desolate landscape, an overwhelming hallucination can cause one to feel that oneself, as an individual human being, is slowly unravelling. The surrounding space is so vast that it becomes more and more difficult to keep a balanced grip on one's own being. I wonder if I am making myself clear? The mind expands to fill the entire landscape, becoming so diffuse in the process that one loses the ability to keep it fastened to the physical self."
(Murakami - The Wind Up Bird Chronicle)
(Murakami - The Wind Up Bird Chronicle)
Friday, March 27, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Northbridge
Remember the EMPTY Arcane Bookshop on William St?
And have you noticed all these new signs that have been stuck up in every empty window on William St?
Well last night I noticed another one at the Bookshop, nestled among the others, but stuck on the outside of the window...
Which reads...
Brilliant! Whoever you are, I hear ya!
I don't imagine it will last long, which is why I went back to photograph it today...
And have you noticed all these new signs that have been stuck up in every empty window on William St?
Well last night I noticed another one at the Bookshop, nestled among the others, but stuck on the outside of the window...
Which reads...
Brilliant! Whoever you are, I hear ya!
I don't imagine it will last long, which is why I went back to photograph it today...
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
untitled, with gumboot.
so, i have now switched books again and am reading Murakami, The Wind Up Bird Chronicle. I am such an erratic reader, but I think this book I will finish pretty easily. I have it on good authority that it is excellent.
Also I have been really struggling without a studio at this point in my life. I have been having dreams about the paintings I want to be making, amazing stories of colour and light, narratives in the blobs, feelings swelling and bulging in colourful masses, really really interesting and progressive works. But I feel completely stifled because I simply don't have the space (or time, to some extent, or money, really...) to be able to work through these ideas and create some new work. Really new. Not just another painting like all the rest, but different and interesting works. Works that I have the time and space to work on.
This, and the library, are what I miss about uni. Having a designated space which I could leave and come back to, and use solely for the purpose of making artwork, channeling that creative energy in one place, large open working areas.
Whinge, whinge... I've had a difficult-ish week.
What I really enjoy about not being at uni, though, is feeling like I can work at a pace that suits me, and feeling opened up to a real world of possiblity and opportunity (I suppose I'm speaking largely about the work I'm doing with the collective, but also to some degree the [small] amount of personal work I'm doing too). I am now an artist, not an art student. This is pretty exciting, and refreshing, and enjoyable. Though at times challenging, as the last few days has proven.
Speaking of the collective, we are doing a performance for the launch of the Love Is My Velocity Cookbook II, which I will detail more later, probably once it's done, but will take this oportunity to ask if anyone has a breadmaker or an electric knife, we are now collecting them (yes, we want several, as many as we can get, even) to borrow... if you can help, let me know!
In other news, my housemate Briony is having an exhibition tomorrow (Friday) night at HQ in Leedervile, as is my clever friend and collaborator Laura (who doesn't have a blog, silly girl!) at Perth Galleries in North Fremantle. Go and buy their artworks!
And anyway, how exciting is it that we are approaching gumboot season again?!...
Hooray!
Also I have been really struggling without a studio at this point in my life. I have been having dreams about the paintings I want to be making, amazing stories of colour and light, narratives in the blobs, feelings swelling and bulging in colourful masses, really really interesting and progressive works. But I feel completely stifled because I simply don't have the space (or time, to some extent, or money, really...) to be able to work through these ideas and create some new work. Really new. Not just another painting like all the rest, but different and interesting works. Works that I have the time and space to work on.
This, and the library, are what I miss about uni. Having a designated space which I could leave and come back to, and use solely for the purpose of making artwork, channeling that creative energy in one place, large open working areas.
Whinge, whinge... I've had a difficult-ish week.
What I really enjoy about not being at uni, though, is feeling like I can work at a pace that suits me, and feeling opened up to a real world of possiblity and opportunity (I suppose I'm speaking largely about the work I'm doing with the collective, but also to some degree the [small] amount of personal work I'm doing too). I am now an artist, not an art student. This is pretty exciting, and refreshing, and enjoyable. Though at times challenging, as the last few days has proven.
Speaking of the collective, we are doing a performance for the launch of the Love Is My Velocity Cookbook II, which I will detail more later, probably once it's done, but will take this oportunity to ask if anyone has a breadmaker or an electric knife, we are now collecting them (yes, we want several, as many as we can get, even) to borrow... if you can help, let me know!
In other news, my housemate Briony is having an exhibition tomorrow (Friday) night at HQ in Leedervile, as is my clever friend and collaborator Laura (who doesn't have a blog, silly girl!) at Perth Galleries in North Fremantle. Go and buy their artworks!
And anyway, how exciting is it that we are approaching gumboot season again?!...
Hooray!
Friday, March 6, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
reading reading reading
it's quite overwhelming how much there is that i want to read, and i feel quite certain i could spend my entire life reading and still never feel like I'd exhausted my perpetual reading list. I just finished Middlesex by Jeffery Eugenides, I then started a book of interviews with Bob Dylan called Dylan on Dylan (if this blog is anything to go by, it's clear I was on a little Dylan binge a few weeks ago), before I got distracted by Oscar Wilde and The Picture of Dorian Gray... " We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely. All art is quite useless." Ohhh, Oscar, you devil!
So, that's a lot of novels... and the amount of critical reading I'm doing is diminishing at an alarming rate. I'm a bit lost without the uni library, and not convinced that the State library is an adequate substitute. Help!
So, that's a lot of novels... and the amount of critical reading I'm doing is diminishing at an alarming rate. I'm a bit lost without the uni library, and not convinced that the State library is an adequate substitute. Help!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
backpedalling
So, my posts are becoming increasingly few and far between. This is mostly because I've been really really busy doing lots of work, in all its forms, and tying up lots of loose ends. However now that I'm entering a period of unemployment (somewhat) I am looking forward to being able to dedicate more time to thinking again, and less time to wasting time making money. Ha!
Here are a couple of things I've been doing...
I've started doing a bit of writing for ye olde street press, X-press, so have been spending my spare moments doing research and writing a few stories. My first story was about the exhibition at the Fremantle Arts Centre called the Yellow Vest Syndrome. I got to interview three of the artists in the show who worked collaboratively during a residency in the Moores building (Daniel Bourke, Jeremy Davis and Lisa Purcell). It was a really great experience to have a talk to them, and really affirming to hear about other young Perth artists working in similar ways to how I have worked with the Inter Collective. They held an interactive BYO tshirt tie-dying session a few weekends ago, which I think worked really successfully, in terms of interactivity and participation: people got right into it without hesitation and, maybe because they were creating something they would potentially wear, seemed to take more care and pride in the outcome of it. I have noticed that otherwise, these kind of 'interactive' art projects are started with the best intentions, but almost always end up in a 'who can draw the biggest/most offensive cock-and-balls' competition.
We finally got to materialise something with the Inter Collective a couple of weeks ago, as we were asked to do a temporary installation for a function for the Planning Institute of Australia. It was a challenge: we worked with almost no time or money, but were quite happy with what we did, despite the fact that we had very little interaction from the function attendees. Laura posted a lot more about it on the Elusive Isolation blog. There are pictures, too! Read it and tell us what you think!
Here are a couple of things I've been doing...
I've started doing a bit of writing for ye olde street press, X-press, so have been spending my spare moments doing research and writing a few stories. My first story was about the exhibition at the Fremantle Arts Centre called the Yellow Vest Syndrome. I got to interview three of the artists in the show who worked collaboratively during a residency in the Moores building (Daniel Bourke, Jeremy Davis and Lisa Purcell). It was a really great experience to have a talk to them, and really affirming to hear about other young Perth artists working in similar ways to how I have worked with the Inter Collective. They held an interactive BYO tshirt tie-dying session a few weekends ago, which I think worked really successfully, in terms of interactivity and participation: people got right into it without hesitation and, maybe because they were creating something they would potentially wear, seemed to take more care and pride in the outcome of it. I have noticed that otherwise, these kind of 'interactive' art projects are started with the best intentions, but almost always end up in a 'who can draw the biggest/most offensive cock-and-balls' competition.
We finally got to materialise something with the Inter Collective a couple of weeks ago, as we were asked to do a temporary installation for a function for the Planning Institute of Australia. It was a challenge: we worked with almost no time or money, but were quite happy with what we did, despite the fact that we had very little interaction from the function attendees. Laura posted a lot more about it on the Elusive Isolation blog. There are pictures, too! Read it and tell us what you think!
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