ceaac

[ceaac]

Art, Mindfulness and Community

Nov 24th, 2020

This will be an overarching post encompassing the themes of the three prior reflective accounts titled: Between the Lockdowns. Whereas the previous three posts have focused on specific sessions delivered, this post will delve into the core features of those sessions and other activities (in an attempt to develop their delivery as a facilitator/artist-educator) as a summary of my practice thus far.

The reflective accounts state a sustained effort of delivering weekly and fortnightly sessions between 20th August and 24th October, 2020. The duration of the sessions lasted up to three hours for each Poetry, Life Drawing and Music group. At the time they were delivered consistently and I had intentions to continue the sessions and expand upon them; for both my own and those who had attended, creative development. Unfortunately due to the situation of the world I am working towards their revival!

The prior reflective accounts position my practice within a sphere of my own well-being and offering art as a service. Essentially, each of these art forms have brought an attitude towards my own contentment inside the world. What has been delivered is a series of sessions that hope to share the positive aspect of engaging within the arts at a community level – either passively or actively, towards uncovering the features that offer a deeper sense of our felt experiences. For this to happen it is approached out of a mutuality, as delivery of these creative activities I am learning as those who partake. Perhaps more emphasis on the educational qualities of these sorts of activities is required, however art as pedagogy is generally overlooked by curricula and institutions. Never-the-less establishing a conversation of each art form is a much simpler and relaxing formula when performed interchangeably between people. As a facilitator I’ve tried to avoid imposing what a conversation means and instead engaged and encouraged others into whatever conversation is present, within which there is an interest by the group to play, draw or discuss.

Creative exercises, prompt, discussions; the thrust of the sessions often utilized aspects of mindfulness as a framework for each art form to be expressed; concentrative of the senses we inhabit. This is in order to relax in ones own body for the attention of a creative activity to ensue. I am not claiming the channelling of meditative states, as anything like that should emerge naturally, though we would regularly perform short breathing/listening exercises and practice periods of silences (particularly between readings). The sort of practice being referred has more to do with instilling a reflective ‘mindless’ action; releasing the body onto a subject, be it in music, drawing or poetry. The approach being encouraged is a feeling of letting go within a creative space: “write what you feel, try not to to think about it – draw what you see, play what you hear” etc. within the confines of media specificity. Of course everyone has the right to forfeit what they can contribute, some people have felt shy about what they can put towards a group. Noticeably within the music improvisations - nevertheless, the act of sharing or expressing ones creative ability confidently, within the contexts and concern of others, I believe is a rich and empowering experience and fundamental to sustaining an interest in any one creative format.

The consequences of this can then be read, understood and considering a persons sensibilities draw upon other processes in order for them to self-realise its possibilities or meanings. This is where community comes in. For this practice requires a dialogue with more than a single artist with their own art form, it envelopes others into the process of a broader picture – their feedback. As a facilitator taking either a passive or active role in sessions depended on the dynamics of the group in attendance. My role was one of participation and a means to identify the interests and needs of others in order to plan and develop sessions that offer pathways to manage a form of creative endeavor; constructing feedback or even inspiration amongst peers. In this sense the sessions were designed insofar to generate a conversation, between participants themselves and the facilitator; in order to inform the planning of future sessions and activities, which develops exercises and resources towards a deeper recognition and reflection of ones ‘mindless’ activity.

Optioneering is a term used in engineering, “creating design options that are visibly related to their parameters” (Generative Design Primer, 2020). As sessions roll-out, their intent is to improve the attitudes of others of their abilities. Adopting this process within a creative sense recognises individuals who’s participation allow the sessions to exist. The role of the artist-educator is to maintain individual interest of individuals’ own abilities in order to maximise the sessions intent. What is exercised is a way of merging a persons art practice, within a mindful framework and with community crucible to the work of art (art in this sense is italicised because acting as an artist-educator overlaps specialisms of social/community work, therapy & recovery and of course art). Individual expression is received, for the employment of an array of methods and techniques to underpin their practice with possible solutions – in the context of the arts’ creation, towards self-realisation within a wider community of people.

As mentioned in a previous post, a performance group of three artists of which I am one, Vega Collective seems to function as a living entity. Living insofar it adapts to the situations it can apply its existence to, this is what drives its narrative and subsequently the work it bestows upon its artistic actants. In simpler terms (perhaps truer in this regard), it is a means for a group of friends to be creative together and apply that creativity within opportunities. Ideas are informed by these opportunities and as artists we merge our interests together to provide a cohesive proposal for application. Vega is never fixed to any singular framework, it is a multi-disciplinary practice and multi-purposeful. Our creativity can be implemented in any setting: children’s birthday parties or the fine art gallery. Nothing can detract the quality of what we would have to offer ourselves to, which is the opportunities made available by trusted beneficiaries. This is an application of creativity, incorporating a range of approaches for us to be creative – it is not a recognised model of a livelihood under the current circumstances – as much as we all wish this collection of antics to be. Therein the relational rewards we receive is in solidarity with each artist, and those approaching our services, which is fruitful. People who are not otherwise the artists themselves have a voice in the creative discourse we employ, and we will be keeping it that way, for as long as humanly possible.

Considering the range of diverse applications this sort of artistic practice can be involved in, such as bespoke design formats of Vega or sessions delivered for groups of individuals covering a series of art forms. In addition, community arts practice can be implemented between communities. Community Triumph, is a company initiative which invests in and links local projects and sites with vulnerable families, children and isolated individuals. As an artist I work with Community Triumph and other creatives on project work, which involves developing the creative impulse of people within a variety of local areas. It is not possible without the engagement with organizations and individuals by community workers to maintain communication and delivery of the project to local residents, participants and organisers at the various projects and sites. This communication enables collaboration between the communities and an artist group.

The work functioned much like a game of ping-pong; community workers relay information about an area, artists respond creatively to the situation, which is sent back to the area, information is gathered by community workers, it repeats. One can assume creativity is being produced with community needs in consideration. In this way a variety of ‘things’ were recognized and responded to which amalgamated into a newspaper, its contents a community creation; as well as including the voices and input of local people it also actively signposts resources and activities between a variety of local areas. Community Triumph enables me, as someone interested in community arts, ways in which an artist can connect to local people through a mediator, react to a brief of needs and interests and addressing these in creativity. Most importantly; enjoying the process of the conversation being had between creative and recipient. If we are measuring success by individuals’ creativity enacting on the collaborating artists’ input; the projects did develop a genuine rapport from the contributions of myself and others, on reflection - as much as it is a benefit to me at this time, I feel I would gain more meaning from the input I am providing with a further role in communicating to individuals and organizers directly. This is something I would like to look into, but due to the ongoing pandemic, this isn’t entirely feasible right now...

Back to the point of communities - an analogy of the (somewhat enigmatic) process I have been referring to; is something akin to the story behind the image of this post – Monkey Christ. Originally a fresco painted by Elías García Martínez - an artist who lived through the onset of modernity - his painting of Jesus transformed itself into the above image upon a commissioned restoration in 2012. Arguably this is an abominate defacement and a set-back to Spanish arts & culture. The story of this ‘mishap’ is the work of an “81-year-old… with the best intentions… (who) maintains she had permission from the priest to get her brushes out” (The Guardian, 2020). For myself this event, despite the tragedy or the comedy, highlight where art forms might be heading.

That is because art offers a fix (no pun intended) for the situations we’ll be facing. Considering the function of art throughout all of human history as the fabric to collectivise the human experience and offer signature of its culture, traditions and people. Today’s world is bustling with individuals as a consequence of a histology of anthropocentric society. Engaging into an  ecological view of ourselves, ironically starts with each individual for us to understand where we fit  in it all. Art in the rising times “must include ugliness and disgust, haunting weirdness, and a sense of unreality as much as of reality” (Morton, 2018, pg. 138). For such an art to flourish, it’ll have to be made by a community.

Living in the polarized times that we are in (the conditions of Brexit or the divide caused by the Covid restrictions), art should jump into the solution. The above offers some insight into how that might look like. Hopefully by exercising art in this way we can recognise each other – not as rivals of conflated ideologies, but what we are; a mass of animals that have found themselves in a very precarious situation.

Bibliography:

Smith, L. (2020) Optioneering. Available at: https://www.generativedesign.org/02-deeper-dive/02-02_optioneering (Accessed: 25, Nov, 2020)

Parkinson, H. J. (2020) It’s a botch-up! Monkey Christ and the worst art repairs of all time. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2020/jun/24/monkey-christ-worst-art-repairs-of-all-time (Accessed: 25, Nov, 2020)

Morton, T. (2018) Being Ecological. London: Penguin Random House UK

[ceaac]

Between the Lockdowns: Music

(Reflection 3/3)

Nov 23rd, 2020

From an early age I have played the piano, I was never astute at reading sheet music – therefore never formally graded. I remember learning distinctive parts of a melody when my piano teacher played it. The application of this ability extended; at school during breaks, friends and I would use the music room at school and play together, later forming bands writing our own tropey, angsty songs made for a caricature of a teenager.

The aspect of writing music, transferred to a personal practice, writing songs to play with others. These songs were informed by the music I was listening to and the experiences and opinions that friends and I held. The harmonies of a chordal sequence, combined with a poetic lyric I wanted to sing about often generated the impulse for music making. I’ve been fortunate to know musical friends, so growing up we’d sometimes improvise together; unconcerned with the product of our shared creativity. In these ways, I am now drawn to the piano as a means of catharsis through sound, sometimes contemplative in manner, and sometimes with creative intent to write a song..

One of the dynamics that both interests and challenges me is understanding others through the creation of their sounds; languages begins to be communicated. related to us by their immediacy that established bonds between each musician. Our continued friendships and mutual interests in music making has led itself to further collaborations and a deeper understanding of what each of us can bring to the table (creatively speaking), if not a chance to play to a new rhythm or try a different key. As we informally learned our instruments together it solidified friendships with a communal activity. Music has been central to my sense of connection with others. Particularly a sense of listening and a patience as to when and how I’d contribute into an improvisational piece with others. This became something I enjoyed.

Music Saves Lives at Ground were sessions that attempted to address a similar dynamic, but open to the public. When Ground closed and lockdown ensued I focused on the research and development of the life drawing sessions. As far as planning went; Music Saves Lives has not had the same attention as it should of deserved. It is now a task of mine to develop a series of sessions employing a similar approach to the planned exercises of the life drawing. This effort will promote my ability to be more responsive to the needs of the group providing a diverse and inclusive range of activities to promote a shared improvisational experience. By doing so I hope to create inventive responses to the needs of individual members of group improvisations.

During the roll-out of the music sessions I was supported by a digital and electronic artist Brian Gilson –  who offered valuable support to the sessions delivery. Due to Coronavirus restrictions a limit of six were able to attend (including Brian and I) but non-the-less with an additional four players the sessions invited a range of instrumentation: percussion, saxophone, clarinet, guitars and bass, alternating between sessions. Rotating between what instruments I could (so as to allow others to play the piano) it challenged me, even if that meant keeping a simple steady beat within the group. To say it was an eclectic body of musicians would be an understatement. It was a wild gathering of sound-makers.

This was not unexpected, given the sometimes quasi-experimental experience with other musicians in the past. Non-the-less Music Saves Lives had attempted to ground itself within a mindful approach to music making and its composition. For instance it implored an emphasis on listening as a fundamental feature to the activity of improvisation. This is to piece together individually the sounds of each person and respond to these sounds as a dialogue between other instrumentation. This is underpinned by the insights gained through providing the life drawing; using our bodies to converse with the external world. Whereas music delved into listening to acutely inform our hands to position appropriately, sounding the notation that relates to what we have heard. More practice is required – more to the point, a development of exercises is necessary to approach this understanding more adeptly between a collection of people. Though in its crude delivery the notion of conversing is one of empathising with other musicians. Being able to hear other musical input within a soundscape and approaching it accepting its contribution as legitimate to the aura of the space the improvisation takes place.

Since this is a collective activity embodying a collaboration of individuals – it was difficult to get the balance. It did take a few sessions to learn to dedicate time to pragmatic issues – sound checking and an appreciation of the acoustics within the space. Otherwise everyone was partial to blare out inconceivable melodies hardly hearing of each others input – like shouting at one another.

Facilitators would ask the group to begin with a brief silence of thirty seconds, and for each person to focus on their breathing in that time. Eventually, when it felt ‘right’ someone would initiate the improvisation. For improvisations to start this way, musicians were additionally instructed to begin slowly, sometimes very slowly. This would introduce an evolving plane of musical experience where sounds of each persons input would layer offering a degree of foresight for others to respond – composing the improvisational practice. Improvisations would begin this way often exercising softly played notation as each person crept into the sound sphere being created. These improvisations proved more successful, however did eventually grow into an inaudible chaotic production of music. Never-the-less the improvisations were more controlled with this approach and people began to bounce off one another as a consequence

Encouraging this aspect of listening to one another members were selected or would volunteer to lead by beginning the improvisation. Others would carefully listen, leading off from the leads melody or rhythm, building up to include all other instrumentation present. This has helped provide a space that recognises each instrument a fundamental role in any given improvisation. It also gave a platform for others to lead a group improvisation that allowed a space for all musicians to listen to the sensibilities of another and describe the contributions of others.

Improvisations often lasted for ten to twenty minutes, and would end as a natural occurrence. Finding a resolve generally meant the music tapered off – from quiet to loud to quiet to silence. The created experience often reached a harmonious and concentrative state, oscillating in and out of focus until its finish. The improvisations which regularly revolved around a continuous melody, or a melody that would return after some exploration. As a facilitator of these sessions taking recordings were important for reflecting on the capability and potential of future improvisations. However, these were rarely made.

At the end of each improvisation the group would open up a discussion about their experiences of the music played. Sharing insights and providing feedback have been necessary to develop these sessions and create an inclusive space where all voices are heard and responded to.

As well as reflecting on our experiences after each improvisation, at the beginning of sessions discussions would be encouraged. This took the form of listening to a musical style: electronic, ambient, jazz, classical, world, fusion or experimental (facilitators planned to include previous weeks recordings – but this was never trialed). In this introduction asking attendees how a piece of music has made them feel; what sensations occurred or a combination of reactions/feelings. This aided a dialogue between those attending that began embodying a musical focus of the sessions. After which the group would lead into improvisation.

Only in a few of the sessions were specific exercises delivered – activities incorporating an awareness of sound recording with acoustic space with improvisation, breathing exercises, group synchronisation, playing to a drone or playing single notation one-at-a-time moving around the group. Activities were used as a pre-requisite to the improvisations, though did not embed a definitive focus per session. For my own development researching and employing a plethora of activities and exercises to aid the improvisational element leading off the insights of previous sessions is a goal of mine. Reading the the exercises developed by Pauline Oliveras and insights by Peter Micheal Hamel will stead me towards an array of mindful approaches to populate the sessions and improve the capacity to listening and improvisational exercises. From this research I will plan sessions in a similar regard to the drawing sessions. Using a constructed position of musical understanding to begin to invent new content that support improvisational activities in groups of musicians. By working towards this goal the improvisations will aim to embrace each others individuality concocting expressions into a greater whole which welcomes each persons input that drives the musical flow.

Unfortunately the disparate focus, and lack of structure has led a few musicians leaving early or no longer attending. Feedback by those musicians was a confusion of focus, which was fair enough. By incorporating a regular structure with a specific focus for each session through a variety of exercises and activities that offer a group or an individual to meaningfully engage. As a facilitator developing a reflective practice and responsiveness to peoples needs addressing their involvement within an improvisational framework I’d intend to garner their commitment.

The aim would be to maintain a continued commitment of those attending. Never-the-less there has been a consistent mix of individuals participating in the activities with others booking spaces for subsequent sessions. A maximum of six were allowed into the space, which offered a silver-lining insofar groups larger than six often do not reach the attentiveness as with smaller improvisational groups. This ‘rule-of-six’ may prove to be a good measure of group sizes, during and after the pandemic. A total of ten individuals (excluding Brian and I) were involved in the sessions, whose attendance rotated depending on the bookings.

Considering the sporadic and improvisational nature of these sessions, including its insufficient content of activities and exercises, there were moments of meeting the supportive and gratifying experiences akin to the times with my mates growing up. Perhaps this is due to the freedom these sessions employ – though uncontrollably chaotic at worst.

A significantly heartfelt moment arose when a member of the group began singing ‘We Shall Overcome’, as I began singing along with her, guitar emerged along with an electronic section. Maracas shaking, drum beating, the rest smiled at the spontaneity of the moment. It lasted for five minutes, that brought a brightness in me that I’d felt in others. We left in good spirits before the next lockdown. This short outburst reminded me of why these sessions are so important – the trick is how do you replicate that?

[ceaac]

Between the Lockdowns: Life Drawing

(Reflection 2/3)

Nov 22nd, 2020

Observational drawing has been something I have practiced since discovering an interest in the arts from 2011. Participating in a number of life drawing sessions, firstly in Warrington, then Leeds and now leading sessions in Hull. To me, life drawing is an exercise of looking.

In those earlier days of joining a life drawing group I noticed how awkward I felt stepping into the room – the situations were unfamiliar to me, subsequently the drawings were initially confused. Keen to improve; seeing others concentrating, looking between the surface of the paper and the model.

A rememberable moment of attending the sessions in Warrington was the meeting with an older fellow who’d sit relaxingly, and had finished a remarkable piece of draughtsmanship. I asked him “How do you draw like that?”, he replied calmly “By starting at your age”. 

It seemed for me to improve I needed to continue - so I did - until my drawings of models became satisfactory. Noticing when satisfactory drawings were produced I was not feeling awkward or frustrated in their making. Instead calmer, steady, surer. It began to become practiced; the shape of shapes, the length of arms, and I was beginning to feel pleased with the process. Bad days feel like the drawings suffered, often with a distracting monologue inside my head, focusing to clear it off, for a drawing’s sake.

Moving to Leeds life drawing was not much different in its setup and delivery, but boasted a busier space. Despite being crammed into a room of strangers I had to be mindful to displace as many distractions for the quality of imagery and subject. I often left satisfied, along with a dirty mess of charcoal.

Moving to Hull, I initially could not find a similar life drawing group, or at least one that was accessible or regular for me as the ones in Warrington or Leeds had been.

Artists at Ground offered facilitation work during Inside/Out sessions and later Poetry Saves Lives (sessions which were free and open to the public – social spaces to share ideas). Using the space in this way encouraged me to consider organising life drawing sessions of my own. The initial goal was to develop a life drawing session that would incorporate some of the professional training and experience I have as an educator and envelope the principles of Ground itself – mindfulness, accessibility and inclusion. Though the content of these sessions I owe to the chance encounter with

Garry Barker, who teaches on the Fine Art program at Leeds Arts University (formally Leeds College of Art) who kindly offered some much needed advice.

It was around this time I was offered artist-in-residence at Hull School of Art & Design. Developing upon the advice from Garry I piloted eight weeks of life drawing sessions with students, each session incorporating a different theme. Students remarked of the interesting content, benefiting them in their studies and creativity. However, some did not attend when knowing a model would not be present. Nevertheless sessions had a consistent number of keen drawers. As a group we were able to explore a number of activities adopting a different focus each session – more were planned in the pipeline. Then lock-down happened.

During lockdown I was eager to continue with the sessions; my tenure at the school would have ended post-lock-down, so I prepared to deliver them at Ground. When the lock-down restrictions eased, and Ground ensured safe Covid practice inside the building - with limited bookings of 6 (including myself and a second facilitator) - I setup Drawing from Life.

The underlining principles for the delivery of these sessions and its outcomes is based off the insights of using our bodies to construct imagery and develop ‘inventive’ ways of creating images. A lot of what I referred to was written in Garry’s Blog.

Invention of the kind these sessions provide comes in a plethora of forms. For instance, how does one create texture? One avenue is to search for a means of capturing texture with our sense of touch. Using rubbing’s of surfaces to look at the record of the textured surface and transposing these into a drawing. Or – drawing blind by feeling objects and interpretating the sense of its touch with a mark. Interesting discussions can ensue about the continually rolling tactile plane of experience we are forever given – but often passes unaware. Another example exercise: drawing and memory. Staring hard and focused at the subject to hold an image in your minds-eye then carrying the memorised image by physically walking to a different area of the room. This extends the process of ‘normal’ drawing; highlighting the situations of our eyes – of viewing a subject-matter that draws back and forth to the paper’s surface, where the image is released. An example of a seemingly straight-forward exercise such as drawing a straight line, can become an exploration of our bulges of vision we use – demonstrating perspective does not perceive a straight line as a straight line, but subtlety curved.

These exercises have been trialed and tested by Garry’s lengthy career as an art teacher. Myself, I tried to trial them with the associated insights as written on Garry’s Blog, which I found enabled drawers to explore an expansive array of approaches including material processes to using plum-lines and measurements as tools in looking and recording. There are many more exercises, which I would recommend anyone to read the insights on Garry’s Blog.

Approaching these many facets of a drawing practice with the underlining principle of using our bodies to ascertain the imagery or to understand a process. The inventive quality these sessions conjure often are an awareness issue. It is the role of the artist-educator to offer ways of interpreting the many faculties of experience contained within drawing. Embedding these sorts of exercises into a life drawing environment need to be delivered with an appreciation and understanding of the content to reach the meaningful dialogue people can acquire from it. I’ve only just begun, in the shadows of others.

Life drawing is far more than a consumer-orientated thrill seek, life drawing has been and remains a consciousness-expanding activity towards self-realisation (whatever the circumstance of its presence), it is I would argue, only heightened when organised and delivered by someone who cares enough about ‘it’. But considering the contemporary context that drawing in its observational form faces – being overshadowed by photographic and digital processes alongside exclamations of ‘the death of painting’ – the obsolescence of ‘2D’ image making and media specificity, for favor of virtual expression. A drawing practice that is the result of leading a record by conversing between our bodies and the things we are drawing – life drawing may risk falling “within the sphere of social taboo” (Hamel, 1976 pg.173) - as a form of musicality, regarding its inherent rhythmic and improvisational aspects. Life drawing may be sitting on the fringes of legitimacy, possibly due to the dubious intent of the life rooms past & present (as insinuated by its method of delivery). Never-the-less, I believe it still has much to offer, more than the sum of its parts. Offering a responsive atmosphere by acknowledging peoples developments and connecting them to fundamental features that drawing inhabits – one being our bodies and the conversations it has with the world.

Underpinning the approach I’ve taken to is an appreciation of mindfulness towards drawing, in order to support a relaxed and calm atmosphere. Concentrating on the image making, by focusing our bodies – using our breathe and being aware of our breathing with the musicality of mark making. Instrumental to the sensation, that was behind a much earlier insight of mine – displacing other pressures for the thinking through of actions and ideas for drawing imagery, towards a more conscious attempt. It is creating these atmospheres that as facilitator of these sessions I hoped to provide. Furthermore offering thoughtful activities others can gain insight from; absorbing others into an activity of discovery and wonder, using drawing as the vessel of that exploration.

Developing sessions in this way requires a space to discuss where people would like to lead their experiences. Via conversations with the group and individual drawers help in this regard. Often these discussions (and the ensuing decisions for planning) are supported by the reading of their artwork produced in session. It allows oneself to find elements where an intervening exercise could be provisional for their sense of achievement. Searching, not for the faults, but the subtle insights that a drawing provide, bridging a drawers ability with an exercise to promote a reaction from them that may cue them to this sense of achievement. For example: a person attending one of the sessions drew a larger-than-life circular head representing the model’s than what is proportionally or anatomically ‘understood‘. They laughed at ‘how bad it was’, it was a drawing expressing a certain concentration of the models head (heads often seem to be singled-out in drawings). Despite their claim of poor ability, it suggested to me an array of possibilities of why they drew it in the way they had – therefore informing the avenues they could engage in to benefit their sensibilities: perspective, memory or temporal exercises, some seemingly unrelated to the issue at hand. Exercises that would intervene that sense of looking and acting on that looking: faster drawings in order to see the whole than its parts, or purposefully slowing ones drawing down to a snails pace, holding a visual record of the recognisable shapes expressed in the subject before turning away to concentrate; jigsawing elements together onto paper, drawing from the ground and working up the figure etc. As often is the case, no size fits all, there are many directions that could highlight an aspect that would help any one drawer to reach a better understanding of their own drawing habits and is often informed by their own personal dialect with themselves. As a facilitator however, it is important to have a catalogue of approaches to recommend and challenge - at their own pace.

Drawing from Life provided a meeting space, a space where we can draw what we see, sometimes we drew as we appreciated the silence, in the company of others. The connection I’ve taken from doing this has had a remarkable affect on my own mental well-being. And, I believe that of others. By the attention and attending a social space to concentrate on a task at hand – in this case life drawing. But maybe this is simply nostalgia...

From the sessions I have provided at Ground feedback of the exercises are described as insightful, and stimulating. Presented are a few of my observations of those attending: a man who suffers from arthritis was able, for a time, to engage in an action of moving a wide range of his body. Unfortunately the arthritis remitted back a stiffness, however he and I agreed upon reflection to engage in the activities slower, working within the comfort of his abilities and building up towards faster and more energised actions, when it felt appropriate for him. Emerging a discussion of what is adaptable for each of us considering the confides of a circumstance – resulting in a suggestive line representing a figure in five seconds. An Arabic speaker referred to the sessions picked up on the drawing terminologies being used – his English improved (albeit a breadth of words relating to drawing). Along with improving his English skills, so had his drawings. He is now making steps to sell his work at a community market. One session invited the participation of an ex-drug user and ex-offender on approaching ideas of perspective. The two men both took more than I’d expected from the session and one enthusiastically told me he would take what he learned back to their home to improve his drawing he had made in the session, remarking “I’ve never thought of that before!”, in relation to the ideas covered. Working with an individual with aspergers who attended regularly and seeing how his drawing were improving confided with me a renewed appreciation sparking off a ‘hobby’ – a continuation of practice. Stating a satisfaction he could now ‘properly draw’ by the recognition of his own achievements. Additionally, one woman who attended spoke of the ‘performative’ nature of my delivery, which may have supported an aura of ‘fun’ – a common description of my persona I gladly show.

Since providing these sessions at Ground were on a voluntary basis with no funding, sessions made use of what resources were available. As a professional model could not be hired for the evenings I offered myself as a clothed model for figurative imagery, or pairing up attendees to draw each other. Exercises sometimes used still life setup as the subject instead. Resourcing sessions with the cheap or free provisions available such as: lamps and torches to create dynamic and dramatic lighting and shadows, recycled paper of varying qualities, boards gathered from an ongoing refurbishment next door and drawing tools at hand in Ground – supplied most of the sessions. Asking others to bring their own equipment aided to alleviate some of the material needs, whilst (I hoped) gave ownership to drawers of their practice and what it is they need as drawers (individual to them – some took preference to charcoal, others to pencil or pen). This is a positive sign in terms of budgeting a life drawing group, it can be resourced at a low cost.

This does not discredit the need for funding. Since it is integral for me to provide these sessions for free to the public as part of an inclusive practice, offering an accessible experience (Beverley Road is one of the more economically deprived areas of Hull). Attendees were occasionally asked to donate £2.50. However as the artist-educator the energy imparted to deliver these sessions and managing the small change of donations given to my efforts ended up for the general facilities at Ground. Regardless, the monetary donations did not reach the total of £40 needed to hire a model – even after the suggestion a contribution of £10 towards one. For the future – a big colourful sign and drilling myself to mention donations at the start and end of each session. Furthermore funding would allow a broader scope of approaches and activities, especially explorations of materiality that could inspire drawers with materials processes. Using smoother and rougher grains of paper, or discovering a new drawing implement or tool; better quality materials can have a significant effect, at least from personal experiences. Though the challenge to make-do with what you have is always enlightening (if not frustrating at times).

Despite the lack of funding (and there not being the means to invite a model, or particularly decent materials to work with), I expected little interest (as with some students at Hull School of Art & Design during the residency). Fortunately it invited a committed group of people, due to Covid restriction it was a sizable group of six (including facilitators) whom I hosted over the ten weeks. Excluding facilitators the sessions reached a total of seven people who took part. I had to juggle the attendance on a first-come-first-served basis. Whenever someone expressed that they could not make it, someone else took their place. The sessions were fully booked and boasted a committed range of people.

I am proud of myself to of had the ability to organise and deliver the content that maintained individuals’ interest to keep attending despite shortfalls. Perhaps the truth is more fundamental than my perceived success of the sessions; being the provision of a social space where like-minded people could join and share a creative experience during a pandemic.

Drawing from Life has of course stopped during this second lock-down. I intend to restart the sessions again – leading off from a focus on lighting and tonality. I am looking forward to drawing in the dark with others, and creating inventive challenges for dramatic image making before moving onto a new focus determined by the feedback and imagery of those attending.

In regards to running these sessions, both at the school and at Ground I feel confident in my abilities to provide valuable insight that encourage others to figure out for themselves a deeper insight towards their own methodology to achieve the best of their creative abilities. Leading an ever changing dynamic set of activities, that concentrate on people’s developments and needs. In a wider context project co-ordinators at Bite the Biscuit and Hull Community Diggers have kindly suggested delivering activities within their associated spaces. It is an exciting possibility to draw in these spaces, making use of a larger interior or working outdoors to expand the potential of what Drawing from Life can offer today.

Bibliography:

Hamel, P. M. (1976) Through Music to the Self. Tilsbury: The Compton Press Ltd

[ceaac]

Between the Lockdowns: Poetry

(Reflection 1/3)

Nov 20th, 2020

The below text was written in response to the themes of spacious, wounded and scarred in the run-up to a poetry session; formally named ‘Poetry Saves Lives’:

As they moved towards Poetry Saves Lives -

“Get ‘im off the cliff! Get ‘im off the cliff!”

Its a revolution out there!

A call to arms!!

Like when Shiva met that prince that time,

“FALL ‘IM OFF THE CLIFF!”

And BAM!

Its Poetry Peeps everyone.

It’s spacious here.

Where your wounds and your scars,

Are healed into stars… (Urg).

A group of literary-minded people, who shared an online platform on Tuesday evenings proposed a name change for the group. In the preceding session, discussions about scapegoating arose as a feature fundamental to societal development. At the time frustrations were amounting, partly due to the situations of the pandemic, but large crowds were gathering; “Are there not other alternatives!” – I grovelled. As the facilitator, holding ever feebly the online space such a position had bestowed – the name change rolled out over any semblance of hope for an exclusively ‘Saves Lives’ creative programme; the envisionably fundable brand. However, the social tension were eased – when we threw out Poetry Saves Lives…

In this post I want to begin to bridge a personal concern, the issue of trying to make a living. Firstly by reflecting on my experiences facilitating a poetry group. This will be the first of three reflective accounts. Poetry has been for a long time been something I’ve appreciated and attempted at myself, but meeting other poets and discussing our writing, I’d of shied away from the idea. After completing a post graduate certificate in education, I felt a little more confident in group environments, thereupon I took on the opportunity to facilitate the poetry group as the current facilitator at the time was eager to start-up something new.

It was at Ground, on Beverley Road, a community arts centre which has supported my development as a socially engaged artist. Working with colleagues in a combination of facilitative roles, supporting administrative tasks, engaging in the cultural and professional development of myself and the organisation and  delivering sessions – as above mentioned, one being a poetry group.

As I began to be more engaged at Ground my first responsibility was leading off the interesting work

Sam Donaldson had initiated – Poetry Saves Lives. These sessions were a development of a support group led by Icarus, which opened group conversations around emotional well-being. Poetry Saves Lives focuses on the same premise however utilises poetry to bridge issues facing others otherwise difficult (and not-so-difficult) to discuss. The idea being; by using poetry as a means of sharing emotional concerns, discussions about a situation or feeling within a group dynamic were more easily conversed.

As I write this now, I am asking myself why I’d chosen to lead off the running of these sessions - in something I’d no serious confidence in? I suppose I was keen to teach, to continue to apply the practice of what I had learned during my teacher training and experiences delivering and facilitating sessions with people with mental health and complex needs. I felt confident introducing myself to strangers and developing the relationships needed to hold a space for group discussions. At the time Poetry Saves Lives offered a pathway into that line of work I enjoyed especially as it overlapped some of the practices I had witness during my teacher training; Sarah Williamson teaches at the University of Huddersfield and illustrated over time the effect of handing over the basis of discussions to someone else within an educational context.

Sam’s original aims of the sessions were focused on emotional discourse, bridging an esoteric awareness with present issues. I proposed that an open to the public poetry session could provide an educational outlet as well as a well-being one. Approaching the sessions with this in mind, as a facilitator I took on an active role embedding a plethora of poets: local and abroad, old and new, spiritual, political, descriptive and metaphorical – to attempt to present a breadth of information to discuss. By framing literature within conversation, providing various styles and contextualizing texts with current ones being shared, attempted to allow ideas and interpretations to develop through the course of conversation that pitched alternative views and perspectives, sometimes leading towards inspiration amongst members (certainly myself).

Organizing and facilitating these sessions has been an enriching experience finding and presenting texts from a multitude of people. Unearthing obscure and local poets, by my own preparations and from those attending, which included listening to the readings of attendees’ own writings. At times people would write a poem during the session and freely share it – like the image for this post. The poem was written by a kindhearted Algerian, a multi-linguist and skilled musician. The poem reads:

Is ugly beautiful

Or seen as beauty

Nothing good for us

Bad in us

It depends what we

Think

Art can be easy sometimes

Like flowing flakes paint

On walls

Allowing a space for poems written by those attending to be shared is important, however not everyone can settle into it so easily. To help towards that aim I would mimic a sense of familiarity and locality by collecting poetry made in Hull. By reading the poems written by local poets is to encourage people to write and share their own - providing poetry produced from Hull is to provide a texture of its land and artistry.

Some members prefer the atmosphere; a place for literal contemplation and discussion. Having asked these people about their own written expression, they sometimes dismiss their abilities in their reply. Over the course of running these sessions, those of them attending had started to suggest to themselves their own artistic potential.

Promoting and encouraging writers of the land where Hull finds itself upon has enabled me to get to know a local identity. But this is juxtaposed when bringing to light a balance of writers, from varying histories, genders and geographies. Broadening the ideas and experiences we can discuss. This is of course made possible with the presence of those attending, but some of the effort of ensuring a breadth of literature expressed is the responsibility of the facilitators.

Discussions are a central component of these sessions. Obviously some front-of-house skills are required – friendly hello’s and how are you’s, a round of names (tea making facilities also help in this regard) etc. But being prepared to ask a repertoire of questions about any one piece of writing and attendees’ interpretations or feelings. To ask these questions I found it helpful to absorb myself in the listening of a reading in order to come to a genuine interest to share, and open up a platform for opinions and insights to be discussed; finding visual features, recognizing a structure; a rhythm or rhyme, trying to figure out my own meaning of the subject or the writers intent. It helped to repeat every poem a second time. In exceptionally difficult circumstances or where there was a unanimous interest in a poem, we’d repeat a third or fourth reading. One must actively engage in the interest of the material (whatever the writing). The facilitators had to try to form their own appreciation and demonstrate that appreciation by sharing it to the group; in order to start things off, if indeed the material itself did not trigger a conversation on its own.

My role as facilitator became one of knowing when to contribute and when to open a space for others to talk. Allowing ideas and opinions to be exchanged freely - but being prepared to reel in discussions when they became wearyingly off topic. Some members were themselves active poets and writers, and it became a pleasure to participate in the conversations when a well-formed  literary understanding took sway. In rare instances however - a piece of writing has left everyone with nothing to say... sometimes it is appropriate not to say anything.

With that in mind, letting others run and mediate the discourse of a particular text is the facilitators aim; recognition of peoples ideas bouncing off each other, how a text can change considering perspective – are all important aspects for any one evening to feel a success; in creating a wordy stew - a melting pot of discussed ideas.

Feedback from people described the evenings as ‘fun’. Considering the intentions of why the group was setup initially and my input to embed educational values, it wasn’t an intended consequence. However ‘fun’ is often used to define peoples experiences of the group. Arguably, (from my point of view) intense – albeit the commentary is positive, at least in regards to the well-being of others.

If it is ‘fun’ – I believe it has a significant affect on a deeper issue at hand (which I hope the below posts, and presumably the above will allude). Depthness is to be expected when divulging into any art form – no matter how silly-sounding or traumatic-grappling. The trick is to appreciate the message from which depth it is conjured up from. A group conversation serves to enhance that appreciation.

As a group, we are not approaching texts necessarily analytically, simply to initiate a discussion of whatever is conjured within each of us through the reading. As with listening and viewing (or any sense perception) any piece of art. Whatever the piece has conjured is valid for discussion. Listening skills were a foundation of the group long before I was involved. In doing so it enables the imaginative, empathetic and emotional breadth of the human experience through the lenses of poetry. I believe poetry interplays with the musicality of words by their sounds – words act in this sense as a means to an end, what matters is the tone of its expression that imparts the things we care enough for the thing to take meaning. In this way the role of community is important (if not the incentive of producing art, whereby we declare the existence of our expression). 

On these terms the facilitators have to be prepared to act on the discourse of others; for example - during the first lockdown ‘Poetry Saves Lives’ carried over as an online space. The group became significantly smaller and during this time (which the introductory poem of this post was written) it was proposed to rename the sessions to ‘Poetry Peeps’ (fortunately this didn't effect too much of the marketing material), consequentially passing ownership of the group to others (upon leaving Ground, Poetry Peeps has continued with thankful help of new facilitators).

The consequences of sharing a space such as this is outstanding – relationally, literally and as such I believe paves an understanding of our here and now that helps individuals’ sense of themselves. Considering some of the imaginative and interpersonal exchanges imparted over the course of these sessions has been fruitful - even if that has meant being described as a ‘Jellyfish’ (literature’s inert ability to pull things out of the subconscious can be resounding - but possibly a topic for another time), which never-the-less provided the gratifying experience of owning the name and its connotations of ‘Jellyfish’. Such descriptions have opened the possibilities of my sense of self, and I believe it has for others.

Embracing the name change to ‘Poetry Peeps’ and realizing myself mirrored in texts; I hoped to have illustrated an appreciation of the relational and circumstantial aspects of this group, being fluid in conversation and adept to change. The facilitator should be prepared for this - as it has the potential to drive people’s self-esteem (measured on the grounds of participation and contribution to a group of people), though being open to challenging, or sometimes even disturbing discussion. I can only speak for myself – being a facilitator has given me a sense of responsibility and purpose, through a continued practice of providing cultural material, whether engaging in writing myself or collecting a series of writing to present to trigger conversation.

Providing my observations of those attending, some initially seemed withdrawn within the group. Over time they have shared their readings with more propensity and ferocity. Among those whom withheld a disagreement with things became more sharing of it. Others have been able to speak up and out, more of. This is supported by the inclusion of any and all literature (regardless of thematic relevance). As a principle the sessions ensure a more inclusive and accessible platform to contribute or discuss; enabling the group to jump from topic to topic, freely. It seemed to offer a pathway for the most withdrawn to participant in larger group discussion.

It is often men who attend these sessions, and it has been remarked during one of the sessions that Hull boasts a predominately male poetic scene. Questions of Hull’s diversity; creativity seems to be largely a male pre-occupation in the city. In my opinion, wildly underfunded. But this is likely to find balance over the years as women are becoming more included in many areas of life, including the political and cultural structures that exist. One woman did comment impressively about the emotional intelligence men at the group seemed to show. Perhaps a sign of changing pre-conceptions? Being a sensitive group, drawing in more men than women from all walks of life – some more old fashioned than others. The diverse male attendance does open up more uniquely the questions and situations of masculinity. I can appreciate not everyone feels comfortable in a roomful of men however. Then again, there are poetics circles in Hull that are women-only.

These session are one of a number of poetry groups within Hull. But one of the few considering its regularity - twice a month. It has been one of the more popular sessions at Ground, hosting up to ten to fifteen people (pre-lockdown).

The structure of the sessions underpin the inclusive and conversational principles. Every session has themes. Generally two. These themes are obtained via word association at the end of a session; someone starts off with a word, another leads off from it, which holds some connection to the word prior, someone else leads off that word until we reach the final person – who’s word becomes a theme. We repeat this action again, starting at an opposite end/or different staring point – until two themes are conjured for the coming session.

Acknowledgeably, this is a fun exercise selecting themes to inspire the following weeks content. More importantly it also gives the chance for others to speak and share (albeit in a single word) to a group of people. Even a small thing as this helps one express themselves in a way.

It being a routine of the session, perhaps even ritualised, the idea that no one person is selecting the themes. It is a group effort, that’ll focus our attentions on acquiring thematically relevant texts for discussion – but (as aforementioned) this is not expected of every participant all the time. Integrating the word association became somewhat expected and enjoyed by those attending. Initially it was simply one theme, however we found that finding text to relate to a single word was difficult. It was later proposed by members of the group to include a second theme. This allowed us to open up thematic connections, refer more easily to other texts, which solved the problem of relating to obscure one worded themes.

The word association has offered some poetic and juvenile pairing of themes, leading onto some interesting and humorous iterations. Below is a brief list of a few weeks themes pulled together through this process to inspire the content and the ensuing conversations:

26th May: Scintillating and Vague

7th July: Celebration and Rainfall

4th August: Aquarius and Tescos

18th August: Icarus and Spirematical

15th September: Biscuit and Base

6th October: Amazing and Car

20th October: Tree and Compare

For a period of time I used the themes to create poetry to generate interest, during the first lockdown, which you can find on

Ground’s Facebook page between these dates: 28th April - 30th June. Stopping this – since it was a creative undertaking and in order to preserve my own integrity, and the organisation’s. Regardless, the fact remains the themes inspired poetry – albeit a facilitator’s. Lesson’s learnt using poetry as a ‘marketing tool’, but I had hoped to promote much more.

The groups were not strictly subscribed to poetic literature; sessions would begin with reading a segment of philosophical or non-fictional text relevant to the themes, which initiates us into reading and listening; someone speaking to the group. Particularly the discussions about specific philosophical extracts have incited some with interest – a sparking of enthusiasm where philosophy is a vessel of articulating and challenging ideas. It has been best received when these extracts are well curated (relevant – to the themes of the evening, but as well when they overlap current affairs). Others are of course invited to find an introductory extract, but only in a few cases has this happened, and often texts have been stringently linked to a theme. From my experiences people have brought something to share when it easily jumps to mind and sensing its particular relevance to the themes. Everyone is reminded that thematic relevancy is not mandatory. When the sessions have opened with philosophy, it has helped dis-allude a barrier some see of the subject. Certainly with those who have considered philosophy ‘above them’, a topic for ‘clever people’.

It is important for the facilitators to try and remain as thematic as  possible when selecting their readings. Thematic relevancy helps us all to stay on point – to discuss and share literature (albeit loosely on occasion) according to the themes selected from the previous session. This can be difficult to achieve in regard to the introductory philosophical extracts. A reason for this is because associated philosophy referring to ‘Biscuit’, even a  broad term like ‘Celebration’ can be anything but easy to find at the best of times. Because of the responsibilities of the facilitator are to provide a thematically relevant body of text, both for an introductory extract and series of poems to follow, whilst my bookshelf does not host enough philosophical texts to meet each weeks themes (I would imagine accessing the library would offer more inspiration sourcing and finding relevant literature, than that of my own shelves). Never-the-less it has helped me gather a literary bundle reacquainting myself with my own books and their authors present on my shelves. Retrieving an extract concerning medieval agricultural practice for ‘Tree’, Martin Heidegger for ‘Vague’. Occasionally, I was able to source something good enough to get things going. At times the introductory extracts had appeared as if crowbarring a segment of philosophy at the beginning, but is that not poetry as well (as a literary icebreaker)?

Facilitators remaining thematic helps introduce the themes for interpretation supporting the form of the sessions. No-one can be sure what will be shared, but offering this piece of consistency helps to establish a varied platform of discussion over the course of the sessions.

Using an extract of thematically relevant philosophy or non-fiction at the beginning contrasts the emotively charged pieces of poetry later. As mentioned, the emotive power poetry can imbue is not always facilitative of conversation. Whereas a well picked piece of philosophical text can at least provide a point to elaborate further on, given its nature of being an extract. Having some prepared philosophy picked for the session can help the group to get back on track, or help to introduce people to the dynamics of the session.

In my opinion these sessions provide a model for group literary discourse. The themes help drive any particular set of texts within its context for discussion; discussion being the thing we are mutually there for, to piece together as a group of people the questions and  meanings we find ourselves sharing from a piece of text.

As a creative I have taken inspiration from the poetry group. Drawing upon the insights others have shared, incorporating ideas and influences into my own writing. It has been a reciprocal space for ideas sharing that enables us to see others perspectives – this is essential for empathy.

[ceaac]

Drawing into Ecology?

Jul 26th, 2020

In the image are two highlighted features found in certain moments of elated fancy – or as I might like to call them: visions. There is the highlight of the shadow cast of the cars and a telephone pole with its wires. At a particular time; they looked like the teeth of something eating the world of artificial colouring – amongst the disturbingly beautiful deadness of the telephone pole – besides the other forms of a contradictory and complementary nature lining the street under a blazing corona sky; the blue of empty summers, planeless and ancient. For a moment was I noticing a swerving of sorts, a blend of imaginings? Do these ‘visions’ that come with a mild intensity of a hypnotic fancy stare at the tightrope of ecology?

Maybe a distressing apparition, but these are witnessed from a transience sense of neutrality; my fear is only reflected by the inseparability to the situation. This interest has also led me to look out of my window, notice the wonder of the clouds; striking, crystallised and golden. Like clockwork I watch the starlings hop from antenna to gutter to wall to feed, together with a carefulness of each others surroundings. Poking heads left to right, up-down, stepping, contracting little treads and relaxing muscles so delicately small, hop to scurry away. Flying, between the wires and right angles embedded in architecture. Their movements across this landscape makes me feel as if a different world enters our all too ordinary one; the paralleling shadows of repeating structural design; the tiles are disturbed by a flurrying of twisting living silhouettes. I guess somewhere in this sensation is the same kick as what birdwatchers get? I had begun to notice their timings, but after overhearing talk of financial stress, the neighbours have since left with the bird feed – the starlings are rarely seen again with such differing encounterance of their eager and keen gatherings.

Seeing ecology in this way as a warping fluid and static communicative experience is paradoxical, but it is no different as looking around the forests or skies and witnessing the insects and birds exchange between each other amongst the landscape they reside. It is like observing habitats, but it is trying to include everything; the impression of the shadows against the temperament of the cars and their situation, the telephone pole with its drooping wires reminiscing the threads of webbed leads of docility – and of course my present mood between the lot. As soon as one sets foot into it, its fleeting and ever passing, hard to capture, to hold still, I scribble in marks before closing the book. Walking home or to the studio; travelling like in a dream – a wandering one of waking tremors. The growing, moving discourse of nature – things emerge as points on the horizon with the gargantuan bulges of shaped texture scatter itself in propensity to the central point of the image – the gravity of it. I fall off losing myself to realise it, I find myself exploring to witnessing the situation then realising the image once more, falling off again then exploring, finding, falling etc.

In trying to describe the subject of ecology, I am at a loss as to how to cohesively capture this and these sorts of sensations in paint, from my understandings of it. Things are one thing, imaginings are another. Definitely more experimentation is required in regards to the latter – as the above statement inquires in descriptive poetic terms; an attempt at searching into it. However the actual thing of paint have had me impulsed to resource from raw material. To grow the plants, press the seeds, refine, source and mine the necessary ingredients’ required to make oil paint. It is quite the venture I assume a relaxed role to build it, for now. I hope to live to see some fruition of the sensation in the years to come; I wish to live a long life with a rich garden that sustains me.

By doing this I will feel, hold and handle the stuff of seeds, soil and water, between the pottedness of plastic and ceramic order – at least some part of my practice will seems more ‘ecological’ by rearing the materials needed from the land of my garden. Making my own paint, all grown and sourced - though this is an ambitious undertaking, amongst all the other matters in life. With that said ecology plays out an impulse in me to behave and interact with the world. The word ‘ecology’ I am using it in an interchangeable and general sense drawing upon the activities of the land, with all its plants, bodies of water and animals, and between ourselves as acting individuals within communities, the buildings they emerge from, and our institutional and political systems tied into them. An expanding situation emerges whereby looking at trained and learned material processes such as permaculture that hold relationship with the term ecology may offer insight: Drawing and the Twelve Principles of Permaculture.

I want to paint my environments with this in mind, in doing so I hope to find a means of expression that inhabits something worthwhile to those engaged with the art. But painting for me provides an anchor of experience for visual digression. Writing on the other hand demands much more of a different sort of cognitive process; getting to the point. Whilst I find performance a much broader field to apply into day-to-day experience – and in my opinion it offers possibly the most applicable of artform’s within communities – when working supposedly ecologically.

This might be a time to write about Vega to draw upon what I might mean by that. At least for the first time liberating a definition of it outside of an application form. Vega is a collaborative project including myself, Thomas Parker and Adam Ekin. It has been an organic process (as with all art) – but what interests me with this project as opposed to my painting or writing is the attitude it adopts towards adaptation – Vega is always changing and may possibly never find fixture. The project is as much an external affair as an internal creative disposition – you could see the project as an attempt at mediating circumstances in and around it – like a heart would beat faster or slower depending on ones current situation, whilst providing the necessary flow of blood to all the bits of the body. And Vega would be incomplete without the humanity to undergo it. That said the project spills with connections, in all walks of life.

Vega is organic; and like all organics it embodies certain rules, (eating, shitting, sleeping, growing etc.) that has until presently enough, kept the project going still venturing into a void of creative platforming. What have been the rules of Vega thus far?

We accept all contributions – integrating content into the wider narrative. In integrating content artists remain sensitive to the other components of the narrative and the situations outside of it. This hasn’t been so much of a problem as the story is about a giant living spaceship sailing the dying days of the universe’s decay. A relatively open book in terms of imaginative fancy. The issue has been in writing, whilst collection remains a performative exercise (even this blog post may find entry into the world of Vega - from a performative position; an ego of mine trying to analyse the artist inside). The process of writing Vega serves to delve in the products of the art for commission or need for creative application and we piece together the connections between them.

I am pleased to say a number of ours efforts has attracted some attention; we have been invited to interviews to discuss our ideas further or shared them with interested parties. Our proposals are prepared with a practice to integrate and adapt, we have often been unable to allude a ‘concrete’ idea or that due to the high number of applicants they have been unable to provide feedback, or non at all. This has fostered some animosity to aspects of the organisational fabric of the arts and I am sure I am not the only one. Therefore, I have come to a conclusion that there is an attitude within the infrastructure concerned with dead ideas, at least you can mark a grave stone by them (and a ticket price). Though our undertakings of preparing applications and their received feedback has offered support, insofar has helped provide an internal framework for Vega to apply itself into a real-world context. Therein Vega functions as it always has, as an archive, supporting its many layers – until the next opportunity.

It has been the case that Vega thrives in conversation; it is a communal context, not an applicant. Whether working between collaborating artists or with those we’ve been offered a platform with - by mutual partners; it provides us the means to actively perform the work thus understand and develop it’s ideas further. Layered into it are the elementary parts of the story alongside the situations that the art needed to resolve (such as a project proposal or invitation to talk) – this has required Vega to become a multi-disciplinary interface generally focused towards finding the next platform that may lead on to more platforms. Vega is a void of exposition.

Working in this way is highly interactive, encouraging within practice as much outside participation as possible, including responses and impulses – recording the attitudes and opinions of those engaged. Drawing upon a diverse range of ideas the project forms a complex web of parts encased within the Vega package – so to speak. As mentioned it is the artist’s job to adhere the seemingly unrelated into a cohesive whole. In doing so artists practice a form of letting go of the confines of the narrative alongside others to find a renewed sense of meaning and direction, without killing the idea.

I believe here lies the concept of artist as community mediator – a catalogue of others. But with this I bare a warning of a purest pursuit; for one would be engaged in turning themselves inside out! To what end if not to make a living. In this sense the artist functions as a sort of traveling merchant, exchanging the goods of ideas primarily above the modern doctrines of economics. Perhaps a visual analogy of travel could be understood in this: The Zig Zag. Engage with communities like an electrical charge, but what is the voltage?

Appendixes:

Barker, G. (2020) Drawing and the Twelve Principles of Permaculture. Available at: https://fineartdrawinglca.blogspot.com/2020/05/drawing-and-twelve-principles-of.html (Accessed: 25, Jul, 2020)

Barker, G. (2020) The zig-zag. Available at: https://fineartdrawinglca.blogspot.com/2020/05/the-zig-zag.html (Accessed: 25, Jul, 2020)

[ceaac]

The Story of Art as Community Practice

Jun 18th, 2020

Communities need stories. A story can be seen as a sequence of events; take a text of writing, such as the following:

“What do you see down there?”, I cried “I don’t see anything!” he shouted back, “Hang on Charlie, alright”, Garry continued, “I think, I think there’s something there”, stretching his arm pointing a little further the pull beneath us both was too great, by the pressures of the gaping abyss. Garry’s ankles began to slip from my gripping hands, “Garrrryyy!” I called losing my balance I was sucked into it as well. Looking for answers I was submerged in it all, whilst trying to make sense of it, breathing deeply.

Now consider this blog post as being a story (or at least part of a bigger story). Thereupon reading this post look back in your mind to remember this weird little bit of it. The reason being is to try and demonstrate that stories need a memory. Though this blog post doesn’t necessarily have any protagonist, climax, or perhaps any satisfying ending; it is at least a part of something brought out and positioned into a series of other scrollable posts, made from the pressings of my fingertips and aching of my eyes. This ‘part’ of ‘my’ story is an example of a bit of information we can choose to refer in some narrative frame – e.g. ‘Charlie’s worrying me’ or ‘Is there even an approach here?’ or ‘By Jove! That’s my idea!’ - if not a combination of the three.

Stories have a lot to do with a community, we learn from others as they do us as we integrate each others’ experiences when we are willing to share persona’s.

I like to imagine a persona in a community similar to the above bits of the post or alike as a drawn mark of some sorts; a bit of information in a dynamic of other bits; after-all we are bodies and as bodies we’re stable enough to live out a life as much as the structure of a drawn mark might last out its days – until it degrades or it is wiped away. Stories, art or community – these things are created. Conjured up by bringing together all the bits and pieces, a pile of sense is made; at least upon reflection.

These are rather stringent links; a narrative of a story is different to a drawing on paper let alone the varying consciousnesses of what’s required for a community. But there lies in each the traces of themselves - much like waking up, going about our day and then falling asleep; the traces of our day-to-day we can make a story out of it (albeit rather dull under lockdown). We can pull into view any artwork from the past; seeing it in the present and by seeing the work there, its traces of its existence we conjure up the necessary feelings accordingly that our bodily attentions allow us. But what about traces when things are being made, imagined or lived - than looked at?

Is there any insight to gain by framing painting as a view into community? Whereas a community does not function materially (except the bodies of the individuals); community operates in the attractions and repulsion of psychologies, as opposed to marks and their colours – and their placements. In regards to community – whatever it is that is placing these ideas and actions into our bodies it is fluid, and art is no different of it’s release. The flow of things in their makings and movements conjoin into a story of it.

So what is that story? Can we position it into one we’re comfortable with? Only with delicate care can you handle a diverse and varied range of stories in order to invent a path forwards for a work of art. Acquiring this requires a community who are happy to share stories and a means of listening to them that bridges insight into a sense of now. Is this what it means to empathise with others, artistically speaking?

I believe the story of a piece of artwork can tell us a lot about the dynamic of a community. But how integrated is a work of art to the lived experiences of a community?

For the past half a century we’ve been driving an overtly individualistic culture whilst suffering an onslaught of Neo-liberal economics. Leaving for most assemblages of community to the facilitation of consumerism. It is an unfortunate state of affairs that art plays an unwitting role in this debacle. And as somebody who lives in this part of the world, well it is not hard to be influenced. This is problematic as communities function along a common memory. If that common memory were to be built purely on those principles we’d be in a bigger pickle I can assure you.

So how do we begin to carefully shift this memory? I suspect ecology has something to do with it...

Appendixes:

Barker, G. (2016) Up close and far away. The macro and the micro. Available at: http://fineartdrawinglca.blogspot.com/2016/05/up-close-and-far-away-macro-and-micro.html (Accessed: 18, Jun, 2020)

Barker, G. (2018) Drawing as the trace of a touch. Available at: http://fineartdrawinglca.blogspot.com/2018/01/drawing-as-trace-of-touch.html (Accessed: 18, Jun, 2020)

Barker, G. (2018) Drawing as a model for life experience. Available at: https://fineartdrawinglca.blogspot.com/2018/02/drawing-as-model-for-life-experience.html (Accessed: 18, Jun, 2020)

Barker, G. (2020) The frame and the screen. Available at: http://fineartdrawinglca.blogspot.com/2020/05/the-frame-and-screen.html (Accessed: 18, Jun, 2020)

Charles, M. [Mark Charles]. (2018) The Doctrine of Discovery: A Lecture by Mark Charles in Fresno CA [Video]. Youtube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRRDuInkgrI&ab_channel=MarkCharles

[ceaac]

Why I like the Past

Apr 16th, 2020

I like history – or at least I enjoy a  particular set of activities in my mind of trying to piece together my own understanding of a historical order (whereby sensibilities can be drawn into question) of events. This has led me to look for  the implications of history on the way people lived at given times. I try and search around for a fundamental property of our collective relationship.

History is a guide, a pointer to bits of events; I am born – start school – make a friend – have various birthdays – I am now at my present event; typing on the computer at 00:17am.

Pretend there is an alternate reality and this is our future; a black hole whirls in ending all life on Earth – the aliens studying us, fly away.

‘Ending all life on Earth’ is used to represent an end of human history so we can imagine it as a big history book, start to finish. The aliens are there to illustrate an outside perspective; an alien perspective. When the aliens open this book they can jump into it at any point. They could read about pre-history and understand early tribal communities, delve into the parts about kingdoms and empires, learn the developments of societies across the world; at any and all points these events took place they could read about it and piece together a picture of humanity.

They may notice widespread ramifications of an event. They may notice the relationships of smaller events, which seamlessly lead up to the same thing.

Imagine a little further that these aliens also had the auto-biographies of every individual person who ever lived. It would be an extensive collection. Then imagine trying to study all the relationships between all the events (large and small) ever recorded. You might go a little crazy, because what is being illustrated is a super-complex interwoven picture of a particular set of activities connected to the circumstances of another’s set of activities, and another’s and so on and so forth. We could go further and suggest that these aliens have video footage of every blade of grass, bacteria, giraffe, mollusc, fish and all the animals that ever lived on Earth. The aliens could even have complex 3.D maps of every point that the atoms of the Earth have traveled throughout this time span, and begin to study the relationships of it all.

Let’s step back for now, and look at what there is; the history books that any one person can delve into at any one lifetime. Comparatively to the aliens, its a slim read – between each person their reading is proportional between other readings. Simply put we can look at events but never the complete picture.

My knowledge of history is a slice. Not least because I haven’t read all the books and T.V. programmes of it all. The same is true for my knowledge of science, art, and in fact everything considered a knowledge for anything – I have access to perpetual slithers. What is knowledge? Knowledge is something refereed and when one come across knowledge it is remembered. When we are born do we know nothing? A great deal of us seem to know exactly how to use our bodily functions; our bodies know how to live. It is the body we use first to engage in the world to understand its properties; a baby’s limbs kick and jerk in order to sense the world. With the body it senses soft and hard qualities of things, making connections with ears and eyes, touch is continuously reaching for our mothers tit or the history book. The body helps us connect to the world, so to me the body is instrumental to the thing of knowledge. Bodies have a genetic history towards human biology, and more presently; you and me. The relationship between the body and knowledge is a deep one.

The process of evolution is on-going and happens as a random occurrence on the individual level; each body (and all the atoms that makeup the genes inside it) evolve (requiring and acquiring knowledge in doing so) with random genetic mutation into environments to be life. Little by little all the animals have found a fit in a moment in time and their understanding in any environment as we continually evolve. Into what, or would it be inter-sectingly through what?

I’m not sure exactly but whatever knowledge really is it needs the body to remember it. As a topic, history is an interest of mine but more accurately all topics are an interest of mine but in varying proportions in time. It just so happens I find a heightened sense of enjoyment and interest with the local and world history my body has access to. So what is it about history that I felt to write this of it?

As I explore the avenues of my mind; I can refer to set of images. Non of these histories are true or false. For me what history offers are bits of information I can pull into view (wound up with other bits in parallel within my ordered pre-conceptions) as I search for another way forwards towards ‘inventive’ ideas. In creative terms; I enjoy mixing up my pasts. However if that is an angle to inform a practice, it must be kept ‘up-to-date’ - to be ‘up-to-date’ of knowledge my body only has access to, I have to choose the readings I do. And in choosing what history to read:

As mentioned I enjoy a certain view of history and piecing together my own chronological understanding of events and the social implications with our relationship to one another. And my view of history is shrouded by the closest (UK elections) and/or most intense (K-T extinction) of events; until my present. It upsets me that more than likely the histories of our earliest past and of the first emerging communities and societies, are hidden only in the fragments of our modern age.

How do we get there? Experimental archaeology is a very interesting field; exposing present-day experimenters to conditions set by their estimations of the past; connections are found. Walking the body through working the structural limitations of building mud houses or testing the limits of replicated armour, archaeologist piece ever finely the historical record. It is a field that overlaps others. Could it be occasionally the archaeologist feels themselves somehow misplaced in one given situation of their experiment?

I can by no means provide any scientific answer, but I can point you to my artistic perspective; by reading history I base my understanding of a creativity I enjoy. Trying to go beyond the superficial readings I interchange with other topics to form imaginings of two points in time. As mentioned, by no means is this accurate as it must bring into question the sincerity of the accounts I have read. No doubt my mind will change in time. However, it is fun to pretend.

Now. If you don’t mind, I have a date with Leonardo da Vinci at the Palace Promenade...

[ceaac]

Marks, Masks and Millenniums

Apr 12th, 2020

Take a look at the image of the equation and the cave painting and ask yourself what is their relationship? I would argue they are a lot closer than you’d think; neither a moment apart. A drawn mark lies in a realm of thought and action; a space for ideas. The observant reader may recognise a significant intersection of time between them. Chronologically there is a progression of this practice of marking a surface; starting with (quite possibly) shadow play, transitioning to making a mark - from this recording stories; an oral tradition of ideas passed onto subsequent generations.

Fast forward a few thousand years to the emerging civilizations and the creation of societies - marking develops into symbolic arrangements for instance with religious iconography elicited feelings to any one particular religion with reverence, love, servitude - whatever it may of been. Other marks developing at the time denoted towards numerical properties applied into concepts such as currency and geometry, and other marks seen in the writings of many bygone languages. The development of marks, symbols and images is woven with human existence. Look to semiotics for more information about that. I like to think of Jean Baudrillard and his ideas of simulation and hyper-reality as we race into our contemporary age.

From a creative position I am interested with how marks are brought into the world. A careful arrangement of shifting to settling atoms determined by physical laws is required for a mark to be drawn. Despite the infinitely wonderful and varied forms a mark can physically exist as; what makes marks so interesting are the implications they leave behind; the relationship with other marks. As a painter I spend a considerable amount of time with a marks execution; when the atoms in my arm and hand move in such a way, for the paint to arrange itself in such a way, it has the property of intuitively informing where the next mark goes and the one after that and so on and so on until something is made. What is it that is made? I believe a good analogy to illustrate what a series of marks tend towards is that of making ‘masks’. For something to be a mask an individual has to wear it. Paintings cannot be worn, can they?

Try not to think of the material implications of wearing a painting and consider the individual involvement of wearing a mask. For when we wear a mask, we are no longer are ourselves, we are something else. A carrier, or someone being carried by the wearing of a mask. A balaclava over the faces of bank robbers are carried by their masks towards riches or to jail. Or someone who is welding; a mask gives the wielder shielding from and sight of the extremely hot temperatures emitted by the weld. Masks are used to try and help us, to take us through something we would otherwise struggle without. We hope to wear a mask with intention, or is it the intention that wears us?

This can of course mean you don’t physically have to wear a mask, in order to be wearing a mask. We find ourselves wearing them for different activities. For example this blog can act as a mask. Constituted out of many marks synapses spark electrical signals to atoms of my brain conjuring words, letters and their relationship between others in my mind. I move my body to record it, I sculpt this blog post; rephrasing sentences, spelling, finding shorter nuances to ideas etc. Fundamentally I am carving into a computer database so as to wear something that puts me in a position to make some sense out of (in this case) an art practice.

What’s similar about a 9,000 year old stone mask and a Facebook selfie? By poising this question I want to suggest an inbetween-ness - between the masks we find ourselves wearing and the impulse of why we make masks to begin with. Could this illustrate our connection to the world  by bridging these comparisons? Consider how are we are all taking to wearing the facemasks in light of the Coronavirus, in what way does it aid us traverse this moment with each other?

[ceaac]

This is my 1st blog post... again

Apr 11th, 2020

Several times I have been in a position of starting a blog. All of them now dwindling with use over years of inactivity (this even being a recycled account). In any case, I am here to start again.

Possibly a product of the continuing quarantine we have all found ourselves in; ideas have been jostling around my head in regards to the ways that an art practice has a dialogue with an artist. Now, I feel I should translate what I think it is in terms of aesthetic principle and practice.

This is problematic, because creatively speaking there is no one agreed framework in which to write about it. As would a theoretical physicist find it difficult to explain why magnets repel each other to somebody who has no knowledge of the scientific doctrines of physical laws which describe that natural occurrence; I will probably struggle ascertaining the English equivalents to artistic experience.

Why would I want to do this? If only to build bridges between the enigmatic qualities of the things we reach to speak of - the unknownable. Maybe this might suggest more on that matter:

The Problem with Mountains and Words

Whereas the sciences use of advanced calculus equations to illustrate the inner workings of the universe to suggest to us more questions - arts use of a different sort of symbolic gesture; within paint, performance, drawing, sculpture, film, gaming etc. points us towards the same human direction - to more questions...

I shall try my best to point to some of them.

Appendixes:

Barker, G. (2020) The problem with words and mountains. Available at: http://fineartdrawinglca.blogspot.com/2020/04/the-problem-with-mountains-and-words.html (Accessed: 10, Apr, 2020)