This post got a little delayed due to me being absolutely floored by a cold. I actually had to take some time off, which is unusual for me. I haven’t been that unwell in years. Basically my brain was like an over-baked potato, so all things creative, and all things blog just had to take a back seat until I resurfaced. I’m functioning on about 60% now, so that’s something. Hah. The joys of winter.
Anyway- back to my original post.
A couple of weeks ago a collective I am part of (Cannibal Cubs) had a piece of work included in a group exhibition of women artists in at the Yard Life Gallery, SWG3 in Glasgow, Scotland. I was really stoked for our work to be included alongside this group of talented artists working across the country and beyond. I was also excited to be included in a show in Glasgow, having only shown in the city a couple of times. There’s a thriving art scene there, and it always feels like events are well supported and attended. I’d love to be part of more shows and projects happening across the country- I suppose it’s just me standing in my own way for this to happen a lot of the time.
The show opening night was also a rare chance to meet some of the other faces behind the works and the atmosphere was really positive, warm and welcoming. I haven’t been to many openings if I’m honest since Covid. So it was nice to do something like this and have it feel so rewarding. I sometimes find openings a bit overwhelming, and my social skills are probably a bit rusty for larger events. I need to be reintroduced to society like the beaver. Anyway.
Be sure to check out the show in Glasgow if you’re around there- it runs until January and features works across a variety of mediums- sculpture, needlework, pyrography, painting, printmaking, tufting and more. The organisers worked really hard to pull together something special- including a hand assembled catalogue- and the space is jam packed with a diverse range of works. Well worth a visit- I came away feeling energised (I need more of this) and looking forward to opportunities to connect again with such a dynamic and inspiring group.
You can watch a wee video about the show here. Or read about it here. You can find more info about the show and the Yard Life Gallery here.
A sneak peek at our piece:
Titled ‘REVOLTING’ we created a mixed media artwork with a range of elements, including hand tufted parts. The piece was intended to depict a mouse revolt against cat tyranny. Solidarity!
Making
I made a large scale piece the other week after discovering a huge roll of paper in the studio with a textural background all over it. It is mostly a mixed media collage of my drawings of mice (surprise!). It sort of developed from the process of making the piece for the Creative Resilience show. I feel like this large works might become a series. Having the new studio space has been really instrumental in encouraging me to shake off a lot of limitations. Making large, dynamic works feels quite natural now, whereas before I was quite timid about adventuring much beyond A3 sort of size.
It was made pretty quickly while listening to a combination of the Polyester Zine Podcast and The Great Women Artists Podcast. I neglect to listen to things for months and then binge ten episodes in a sitting! Standard. Easily my two favourite listens while working.
I made the piece on the floor, it was quite physical doing that and was what I needed to break myself out of a bit of a creative funk (albeit briefly). I find this time of year a bit tough for motivation and starting new projects. Or finishing them. I am still toiling with the commission I have been working on sporadically for months- although I did push myself to make some decisions about the final presentation of the work. It’s essentially an assembly job now, and I just need to motivate myself to pick up my tools and complete it. Next week…
I’ll be back with a post about a workshop I ran yesterday 🙂
I took a trip to Edinburgh a couple of weekends ago, had an interesting time catching some cultural and culinary highlights. Here is a quick round-up of some of my favourites.
I love Ade’s work- I could spend forever looking at all the details. I find insects endlessly appealing, and there are so many in these pieces. Check out more of his work here. His process videos always astound me.
I also visited ‘Anatomy: A Matter of Death and Life‘ at the National Museum of Scotland. No pictures of this as no photography was permitted- which makes sense when the exhibition contains human remains and some pretty graphic anatomical models. Collections of bone saws don’t appeal to everyone either (although every time I am in London I visit the Wellcome Collection which has a lot of medical instruments, and one of my favourite museum objects- Napoleon’s toothbrush! I love a random domestic object that has significance, not that I have a particular love of Napoleon or anything).
A few years ago I was studying for a PhD focusing on the curation of ‘difficult’ museum specimens (abandoned due to personal reasons), so I always have a special interest in exhibits which handle sensitive items. Naturally there are a lot of ethical considerations to such an undertaking, which museums have a duty to engage with more than ever (not to mention the provenance of their vast collections). This exhibit contained some items with ‘sensitive content’ warnings, and I found myself deeply moved, and at times disturbed, by what I saw.
The ‘exhibit’ (it feels strange calling it that) which will stay with me the most, was probably the skeleton of William Burke, of the infamous Burke & Hare murders in 1820’s Edinburgh. As part of the punishment for his crimes it was the judge’s wish that, after public hanging and dissection, his skeleton should be put on public display. Despite this being part of official judicial decree, I still find it hard to look at a human skeleton, particularly one imbued with this particular backstory. It’s a gruesome kind of fascination that draws you to a cabinet with such content.
I have previously visited the Surgeon’s Hall museum several times which also contains a lot of Burke and Hare artefacts- this museum is also well worth a visit (avoid the dentistry museum if you have the fear, it gives me the heebies). One of the items in this collection which stayed with me LONG after seeing it, and not included in the National Museum show, was a book supposedly bound in Burke’s skin. As far as contentious objects go, books bound in human skin are pretty high up the list (or at least my list). Ghoulish. I am unsure if this object is still on display today, or is just part of the larger collection.
The exhibition at NMS made me reflect on the public fascination with crimes like the Burke and Hare murders, in fact there was a good quote as part of the exhibit that commented on this public obsession at the time of the murders, and I wish I could have taken a note of it. It was very apt in encapsulating the alarming way gory details can be hungrily raked over by the media and lapped up by readers with equal fervour. The current popularity of true crime documentaries and dramas reflects a very old fascination indeed. I sometimes wonder if we disconnect from the ‘human’ side of these crimes- the impact on victim’s families, ignoring the risks of broader cultural ramifications of a fascination with violence and murder. This is pertinent given the controversy around the recent Dahmer series. Is this just a cultural handwringing reminiscent of the panic of the 90’s around the effect of violence in video games and Tarantino films?
I’m not sure how eloquently I can form the dark swirl of my thoughts around this, but standing in front of Burke’s skeleton I was brought very much into the moment, the experience of existing in a body, with a keen awareness of the very real harms that can be inflicted on the bodies of others. Looking at his hands, I felt a deep chill.
Being able to abstract the impact of crimes through a screen, or behind glass- does this diminish our ability to empathise with the bodies of others? At what point does it become acceptable for trauma to become entertainment, or vice versa? I feel like there’s probably a wealth of good writing on this- suggestions welcome.
Incidentals
To lighten the mood- here’s a few incidental shots of Edinburgh that caught my eye as I wandered around. I used to live in the city and always find new views, new places, and fresh perspectives on each visit. It’s a very international and culturally rich place, I always come away feeling like I’ve taken in some visual sustenance.
PS I said to lighten the mood- perhaps these seem like gloomy images, but it was late October in Edinburgh so you work with what ya got!
Thanks for reading as always. I’ll be back soon with another travel update, a new exhibition and some studio progress.
For some time I have been aiming to shift the direction of the collage element of my practice. I wanted to, among other things, create more depth in my compositions, and introduce more elements of my own creation (photographs/drawings). I felt a bit trapped by the sometimes repetitive nature of my high-colour, vintage looking collage pieces- and for a time I couldn’t really stand to look at these works.
A really busy early Corvid Eyes era piece.
I feel less like this now, but also recognise that dissatisfaction is a driver for me to keep creating. I would probably be a bit worried if I made some works or a work I was completely happy with… what would keep me going? I think that’s a fairly generic refrain from artists generally. Sometimes looking at old work is like looking at old photographs of yourself, and your response is dictated by how kind you are feeling towards yourself in that moment!
The developmental process in my collage works had been moving- predictably- slowly throughout 2021 and into this year. Previously this would have caused me some frustration but I have taken a more relaxed approach to allowing my own ‘process’ to happen. Being overly fixated on how my ideas should arise and be developed is something that has dogged my practice since my undergraduate days. One of the major salves for this particular problem is being around other artists and creators, and see the myriad ways they allow their ideas to ferment, and change.
In early 2022 an opportunity to exhibit arose with a venue in Aberdeen known for its support of local artists and creators- Parx Cafe. I decided to utilise this opportunity to host the first public outing of my ‘new style’. Initially I was quite worried about how I would pull the show together in what felt like a short space of time, but like many other creative types, sometimes I need the fire of a deadline to make me move. For a time I thought about including some quite loose, scribbly, experimental works, but decided my confidence wasn’t high enough for this kind of show, and also, I was mindful that these works would be displayed in a cafe environment to a range of people, so they should suit the space and the overall atmosphere.
The scribbly work that didn’t make the cut (haha collage joke soz).
After the initial stage of ‘oh my god what am/what am I doing/everything is embarrassing’ which is required for every public showing of work, I settled on creating a series of digital collage works which I would present as risograph prints. My thinking was that the show would be summery, the works printed on brightly coloured paper, and hung in hand painted coloured frames. My work can be quite dark, in theme and aesthetically, so this method seemed the perfect antidote to a potentially very gloomy, buzz-kill hang. I think #summergoth might be the most appropriate hashtag here.
Work from ‘Omens’ (2022)
I compiled a collection of twenty or so works, produced in the space of a few weeks. I sometimes find my ‘flow‘ when I’m working on a project and am able to fully embed myself in the process, drying my eyes out for hours on my laptop merrily reworking compositions until I am satisfied (as much as I can be). The theme of the show emerged more concretely as I worked, and was inspired by an earlier series of photographic works I had produced. The set of black and white photographs were taken on my 35mm camera during those mandatory ‘lockdown walks’ of 2020 and 2021. Trudges. Anyway, because of the circumstances of the time I found myself seeking meaning in the things I saw, examining everything as a portentous image. The collage works took a similar bent, incorporating some of my own photographs, alongside my drawings and found imagery (as an aside- a lot of people ask me where I find my imagery for my collages, and it’s an accumulated mass from years of collecting from open source archives, magazines, books… I’m a hoarder of any scrap of paper my brain deems useful).
various collage bits
The works for ‘Omens’ were a departure from previous pieces due to the amount of space I allowed to remain in the compositions, choosing to centre many of the works within a border of negative space. Looking back over works from the preceding couple of years, I can now see that this was the direction my work was moving in, but these compositions solidified this move. I was startled by the effect that space had on the works, giving the selected images space to breathe, instead of taking my usual ‘wunderkammer’ approach to collage, ramming every piece from top to bottom, with no control over my colour palette (I did learn to reign myself in after some very valuable input from a mentor- thank you Anne). Looking at the works it seems like such a simple and obvious change, but in fact it took my a long time to feel bold enough to strip my work back in such a way. Each chosen element holds more emphasis, more power- at least that’s how I came to understand this reorganisation.
Work from ‘Omens’ (2022)
Sometimes my works felt like jumble sales, or those ‘hidden object’ games, providing intrigue in searching and a small joy in finding new features continuously, but I started to feel like the wealth of imagery I was including was obscuring my insecurity in some ways. In the last fews years I have tried to undertake a bit of self-reflection to enhance and develop my practice. This sounds very formal but it actually just involves coffee and staring. But one revelation I did hang onto was why after my photographic based degree I pivoted towards collage. Why did I chose to step away from the production of photographic images for so long? I graduated in 2009 and I probably only started working seriously with photography again in 2016, why did I abandon this tract of my practice?
Like many artists, after the initial rush of post-degree show excitement and some unexpected opportunities, I started to experience real anxiety about being able to sustain the momentum I had built up in my final year of study and the first fruitful months as a new graduate. I remember feeling like my project ideas were becoming more forced and lacking. I felt like I just had to keep taking photos, I had to keep pushing myself. I probably just needed a break. I remember staging really pointless photoshoots and looking at the results knowing they were lame. Outside the environment of the art school, with group crits and studio mates, I stumbled into a weird vacuum. It’s very easy as a result to lose confidence in your own abilities, the direction of your practice- yay, identity crisis! I’ve also easily slid into being a cheerleader for the careers of others and significantly neglecting my own- but that’s a whole other story!
Early collage work (2009)
Collage became a new fixture for me in the autumn of 2009. I found some interesting open-source books on a trip to London and was really excited to try out some compositions. The ‘Une Semaine de Bonté‘ phase! Collage, as a method, wasn’t new to me, so it felt safe. A safe way to explore ideas without the feeling of exposure photography was giving me (wait- is that a photography pun? sorry). Looking back now I understand that it was a feeling of my ideas, or lack of them, being exposed, which didn’t make me feel very good either. Collage was also a way to circumvent drawing in creating works. Drawing was something I had left behind, with a similar ill feeling, in my early years at art school- and probably warrants a deeper exploration, so I’ll save that for another post (the anticipation! for no-one!).
Early collage work ‘Consumption 02’ (2009)
Against the rather uncertain origins of focusing my practice on collage, the ‘Omens’ show represents for me, a positive step towards feeling more comfortable within my own practice (but not too comfortable- also dangerous). Including my own photographs and drawings allowed me to claim a greater sense of authorship over my works (which may seem counterintuitive as they are still my works), and create a new, stronger aesthetic for the show.
Work from ‘Omens’ (2022)
The works are also an attempt to make visible my attempts at creating my own visual language. I didn’t want to impose any particular reading of the individual pieces, but instead leave them open for the viewer to decipher using their own memory bank of symbols, signifiers and meaning imbued in the mundane. While researching themes for this show I came across this Joan Didion quote which embodies this idea quite specifically, but succinctly,
“Survivors look back and see omens, messages they missed. They remember the tree that died, the gull that splattered onto the hood of the car. They live by symbols. They read meaning into the barrage of spam on the unused computer, the delete key that stops working, the imagined abandonment in the decision to replace it.”
Work from ‘Omens’ (2022)
In the creation of these works I had tuned into this idea of messages, of seeking meaning in the mundane, of how memory is created, of how we react to the barrage of visual stimuli we encounter every day, consciously and subconsciously. Our minds are well versed in collage, pulling together disparate elements all the time, particularly when we dream. Whilst working, the combinations of images and materials I selected occurred to me often very intuitively, in a dreamlike way, and I tried not to overly question why I chose this image to accompany that, etc. On one hand this sounds kind of flip or ill considered, but I have, for a long time, been genuinely interested in the role of the subconscious in art making, and how I will have deep associations within my own mind between image and memory, image and sensation etc. I tried not to fight against that while I was working and engage too much with my over-active critical mind, saving that portion for the work selection stage.
Work from ‘Omens’ (2022)
I enjoyed the process of creating this series of works, even if I put myself under pressure initially. I was pleased how they fitted into the bright, airy space at Parx, and that my vision for a colourful summer show came together without looking too much like a rainbow exploded. I’m very grateful for the opportunity to showcase my work, particularly during a stage of transition in my practice. It always feels like a risk to show work that is a departure from what came before, particularly in the instagram age. For artists it can feel like a huge knock to share works that are going in a new direction and face a significant drop in engagement and reach as a result (that’s before we factor in the capriciousness of the algorithm). It almost felt better to share the new works in a physical space than an online one- because I am oblivious to how people respond, or don’t, to the works. I suppose you can judge success in sales, or online shares, but you are largely removed from the process of audience engagement outwith the space. This is a blessing for me during the upheaval of turning my practice in a new direction. Years of exhibition space invigilation have rendered me resilient to off the cuff comments about my work, or harsh interrogation, but there are times when you feel more vulnerable. Like a crab shedding it’s skin for a new one, there’s a period when it’s incredibly vulnerable- and that’s where I am right now. And it feels like an okay place to be.
Thanks to anyone who took the time to read this, or to visit the show 🙂
DRAFT EXCLUDER 