God, she is an artist

God, she is a seamstress,
We do not always see the hands that hold us,
but sometimes glimpse the stitches.
As she repairs the fabric of our lives and world.
The very fabric of which is a grace from God.

God, she is an artisan ceramicist,
Breathing life into clay,
Forming and shaping fragile pots
With her very hands.
Her fingerprints remain,
where she smoothed down our rough edges.
And placed the light inside, shining through
the cracks she knew would appear.

God, she is a graphic designer,
Bringing something out of nothing:
ideas become concrete
through her words and her hands,
Connecting us perfecting us, making us new,
drawing us near - to one another and Herself.

God, she is an author,
Writing all our stories, redeeming our sub-plots,
swash-buckling our enemies.
Sending a hero, white-charger not withstanding,
And promising to make all things well
before the last page.


(The inspiration for this piece coming variously from Julian of Norwich, Janet Soskice, Jimmy Needham, 2 Corinthians 4, Hebrews 12, Genesis 2 and many other places!)

In Search of 'Identity': Grayson Perry.

Last month I went to see Grayson Perry’s ‘Who are you?’ at the National Portrait Gallery, not once, but twice – such is the joy of free museums in London! 

THIS EXHIBITION CLOSES IN 11 DAYS, SEE IT NOW!

Grayson Perry is a transvestite potter who has long been interested in innovative portraiture and the opportunity it provides to explore the disjuncture between the projected and real identity of individuals and groups. As with his work on class identity Perry has accompanied his exhibition with a TV series which you can catch on 4OD.

Perry’s first works to be encountered are a map of his own identity and a massive tapestry looking at British identity. It is in this context, of the individual and the corporate that the rest of the works should be considered.

I’m used to Perry being excellent, but he has really outdone himself this time. Perry uses a variety of mediums – tapestry, pottery, screen printing to explore what it means to be British, male, famous, disabled, a soldier, religious, even human. There is a strong undercurrent of gender discussion in his work, a family with 2 Dads are compared to a ‘conventional family’, the Huhne vase is stamped with penises and yet has been broken and pieced together to depict vulnerability, Alex is undergoing gender reassignment and is depicted in a bronze piece as a warrior.

(Huhne Vase)

One of the most fascinating elements of the exhibition was the way the pieces had been placed. Rylan was amongst the 18^th century authors and gentry, the Irish loyalists were with the officers from WWI and Churchill, Alex depicted as a warrior blowing a shofar and the three soldiers returning from war found themselves keeping company with the old adventurers, and the gay family in the same room as the Royal Family resting at Windsor. Sometimes there’s a faint whiff of humour in the work, the Irish loyalists are created using garish pinks and yellows, riding a horse more akin to a unicorn than a mount! Perry’s use of material can be thought provoking: when depicting a white 20-something single-mum from Kent’s conversion to Islam, he prints it onto a hijab; an article so laden with meaning and emphasis.

(Hijab)

Perry’s work on class proved his aptitude as an ethnographer; but through his recent work on identity Perry has also proved himself an artist. I was thoroughly impressed by the work and the way placement of the exhibition encourages visitors to consider the wider range of works on offer at the National Portrait Gallery.

‘Who Am I?’ closes in just 11 days be sure to catch it before then. As previously mentioned, entry is free.

Drawing as sight and expression: experimental art

Those of you who follow my facebook will have seen this photograph, it shows my line drawing of Ribe Cathedral and its inspiration, drawn in-situ at the Field of Heads.

To say I don't draw that often is a massive understatement, I never draw. To be honest, I think its because I think I'm not very good at it. And I don't like doing things I'm bad at. But sitting there, for a few hours recording the buildings of historic Ribe in the Easter sun was magical; and I learned two key things about drawing that you probably already knew.

Background
I drew a bit as a child, but never really had the patience to finish things, less so to shade things in; the negative feedback in the school reports followed all the way until Year 9 when art became more about ideas than drawing and I started to succeed; but by then I'd found languages, human geography, politics and the work of T S Eliot.

Drawing escaped out of the art lesson confines and bled into some of my favourite lessons, history and geography. I always thought that the drawing activities were a bit of a waste of time, to help people whose primary mode of communication wasn't words, unlike me.

I was wrong. And I'm sorry.

Drawing as sight
As regular readers of this blog will know I love old buildings, particularly cathedrals with towers I can climb. I like to think I'm good at reading architecture to guess at age and influence, but drawing Ribe cathedral made me really look. I could see the different stages of construction with more clarity; two identical windows started to take on their own identities. Drawing Ribe cathedral as part of the surrounding landscape helped me to think about the city as a whole and how it had been shaped by this very physical influence. I can see with hindsight that drawing a cathedral could really help a young historian or geographer in their endeavours. Colour me humbled.

Drawing as expression
I understand that art doesn't always have to mean something, but I love it when it does (Wallinger's 'Where There's Muck' is my favourite of the Tate Britain collection). Whilst sketching the cathedral I became aware that as the artist I had great power over how you would perceive Ribe cathedral, especially if you have never seen it. I could accentuate certain facets, I could completely erase others! This editing process could be conscious or a mere result of my inaccuracy as an artist; but in the process of replication I was editing. That is some power!

The concluding post on Denmark is coming soon! And there's plenty of other things to tell you about, but those can wait for another time.

Joy in People: Jeremy Deller

I have recently been developing an obsession with the Southbank. Last week I went twice, once to see Comedy of Errors, starring Lenny Henry, review to follow – we saw it for a fiver! - and once to see Jeremy Deller’s exhibition at the Hayward Gallery.

Jeremy Who?

Admittedly not a traditional artist of the high form I would forgive you for not knowing the name. I first encountered Deller whilst working on a piece for my MA on the archaeology of sites of former protest. I was really fascinated by the ‘Battle of Orgreave’, so much so I jumped on a train to look at the site, got into all sorts of scrapes and met nice northern ladies in bun shops.

Anyway, Deller was also pulled into the orbit of Orgreave and produced a re-enactment of the battle, with former miners playing policemen and former policemen playing miners.  ‘Its going to take more than an art project to heal wounds. But was definitely about confronting something; to look at it again and discuss it’. I thought this sounded like a man I could get on with and when his name appeared on the Hayward list I paid it a visit.

‘To look at it again and discuss it’

This is the thread that runs through all of Deller’s work. The Joy in People exhibition included some of his earliest works (illicitly exhibited originally in his bedroom whilst his parents were on holiday), to It is what it is (2009), a discussion on terrorism and UK involvement in Iraq. He looks at the domestic proximity of cafes (2009) and bedrooms (1993) to big open landscapes , Exodus and Beyond the Walls (both 2012). Working with a number of mediums; including paper, photography, music, film and in fact people, Deller provokes discussion on a number of issues from war and peace, Britain’s heritage, to ageism and the plight of a transvestite wrestler.

His methods are arresting. 

They take you by surprise and they encourage discussion. 

Only Deller would build a life-size operational 1970’s style cafe for a carnival float; and encourage visitors to sit, drink tea together and contemplate what is worth saving, and protesting about.

By the people for the people

Deller uses a number of actors to people his exhibitions. One part of the gallery was a big black wall with ‘I <3 Melancholia’ written on the wall and a youth dressed in black just sat reading for hours. The people in Deller’s exhibitions often don’t say much, or directly interact with you. Rather they are there as sign posts and discussion points. I must say I totally missed the real person who had experienced war-torn Iraq sat in ‘It is What it Is’. In sum, ‘Deller makes art by the people for the people –and it is often fun and uplifting as a result’ (Sooke).

Common-Culture

I went to visit this exhibition with a dear friend who ‘appreciates art’. I think going on my own to this exhibition would have been an altogether different experience; the discussion would have been decidedly one-way. In its ability to provoke discussion Deller’s work is communal and it encourages community cohesion. At another level this is ‘common-culture’ in that it makes art from the common every-day world. I think it has taken me quite some time to see Deller’s work as ‘art’; a few years ago I would not have recognised scruffy t-shirts and quirky placards as art. I credit my MA, Dan Curtis, Elle McAllister and Caz Challis as well as the numerous artists at TAP for teaching me that ‘art’ doesn’t have to be ‘pretty’.

I loved this exhibition so much so I bought the pinbadge. Its on til 13^th May and is a steal at only £10. It truly celebrates ‘Joy in People’.

Psychogeography on holiday

We’ve had some nice weather in Essex lately; I requested it for my ‘Summer holiday’; and no-one says no to this face! I’ve been using the lovely weather to explore local landscapes in new ways.

London and Love Lane

Psychogeography has enjoyed a long and fruitful relationship with England’s capital city; I have long enjoyed merely walking round  a part of London, with no cause but interest.

During some temp work in London I have been engaged in some urban wandering and it has got me seeing London from a completely different angle. Leather Lane, for example, is hidden just off Holborn Circus and is profuse with leather and lots of wonderful little coffee shops. Little Essex Road is in the middle of the law quarter; I’ve never seen a road that shared so little with Essex!
 Love Lane was a road I discovered by accident wandering towards East London. When I walked it, it seemed one of the least ‘Love’ filled roads in all of London; there are no front facing businesses on the road and there were very few people using the road. The only thing that seemed vaguely love related was Shakespeare’s Garden at the end of the lane. Traditionally  road names reflected usage; you can find examples of this all over London; you would have found chickens on Poultry, pork at Swinegate and so maybe traditionally people found love, of a kind on ‘Love Lane’. A little research suggested that historically ‘Love Lane’ was a hotbed of prostitution ; today the road plays host to a City of London HIV and Chlamydia clinic. Maybe I was looking for the wrong kind of love down ‘Love Lane’?

Cambridge, Maldon, St Andrews, Ely.

In the last few weeks I’ve had the opportunity to get out and about in the local (and not so local) area. I have been really indulging my early Medievalist; getting my hands on modern day settlements that retain their three-road Medieval structure. 

Cambridge, Maldon and St Andrews all qualify as ‘quaint little English towns’ and are based around three main streets. Such a simple settlement pattern not only makes it easy to get home if you are a drunken fresher; but also makes it much easier to direct tourists to the church/ river/ ice cream shop (delete as appropriate). It never ceases to amaze me, that a settlement system introduced over a thousand years ago can still provide the essentials for a modern town; even if we are no longer trying to hide our swine in the back streets (or are we?).  On the subject of settlements has anyone else realised that even though Ely has a Cathedral and Cambridge does not; Ely is in Cambridgeshire, why is that?

One day I drove the car out and around north Essex. I stopped off for some proper East Saxon jam in Maldon. Maldon is the scene of a semi-famous Saxon epic poem, the Battle of Maldon (that’s the one where Byrtnoth showed some fatal ofermod – whatever that turned out to be!); its got the three-street structure and some pretty, old buildings. I later enjoyed my East Saxon roots with another Essex girl in Cambridge; but I also drove through many other evocative Saxon settlements; Essex is full of them – Tillingham, Dengie (after the Dæningas, awesome name), Althorne, Osea Island.  Driving around rural Essex you could almost be forgiven for believing no one had arrived since those vicious Vikings of 991 (who arrived during the Battle of Maldon); its thoroughly unspoilt with lots of wiggly-roads and old field boundaries.

Essex is home to one of the best places in the world; Bradwell on Sea. It has been a Roman fort, a Saxon monastic community and now a nature reserve and hamlet on the shores of the Blackwater Estuary, where it meets the North Sea. This space has been a special place for me since before I can remember. Just to sit on the beach (in snow or sunshine) and watch the Thames barges/ windmills/ birds tumble in the breeze (delete as appropriate) is magical. It is a place I feel automatically more peaceful, able to notice even the drifting bird flying on the air current and the barge passing silently past.
What is it about this landscape that is so capable of making me stop and notice passing birds, to be peaceful? Which places are special to you? What is it about that space or landscapes that makes it special? Why don’t you share your special place with someone?!

Southend; walls, barges and berries.

One of the aims of the psychogeographer is to get people (including themselves) to see familiar places in a new light. Armed with only a camera, and with a whole afternoon to spare, I set out for Old Leigh; another special coastal place. I tried to essentialise the landscape in a few key images which took my eye; the images that epitomised ‘Leigh’. I tried to frame the images naturally and resist the urge to edit my photos; instead I wanted to focus on taking good photos, first time round, like we used to before digital. You can see how I got on here.

Leigh: sea wall, coast and blackberries

Looking for images made my other senses somewhat heightened; to the sounds of spinnakers flapping in the wind and the water lapping the shore; the crunch of sand in my trainers and of salt on my lips. Experiencing the environment holistically got me thinking not only about the beauty of the environment but, as ever, different perspectives on space and ideas.  I’ve never really seen myself as an arty-creative before, but looking at textures in my environment even got me thinking about bigger ideas; looking at a bench being engulfed by a hedge I started to think about what we let engulf us; and more to the point, why? 

Bench on the seafront, Leigh

What environments do you live in or pass through every day? How do you feel about them? How might you engage with your environment in ways that help you perceive it differently? And what about your special places? What connects meaning to space to make it place? Would you share that space with someone you care about? Would you share it with the internet?

Enjoy getting out into your communities this weekend and take great photos!