I've finally finished writing my performance. I was really worried yesterday, I felt like it wasn't hanging together at all. Today it feels different - maybe because I read it out loud. The reason I enjoy the lecture format is because, when spoken aloud, ideas are more easily related. When you are speak with someone, the conversation naturally jumps around; trains of thought are allowed to run on, and intimations of meaning or association - inflexion, physical gestures - are just as important as the words you say.
Although a lecture isn't a conversation, it allows for the same thing to happen. Ideas hang in the air, waiting for something relevant to give them meaning. I'll have images (my incredibly bad powerpoint slide show) that give space to the words spoken over them, a pictorial space that both pins down what I'm saying, and yet adds more context that frees up possible associations.
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All I have for you today is some pretty bleak Wikipedia links.
The Behavioural Despair Test. A really unlikely way of testing anti-depressants - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forced-swim_test
and
The Pit of Despair, which pretty much does what it says on the tin. A sure fire way to create psychosis - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pit_of_despair
I don't want to get in to a debate on the ethics of animal testing (because it is a complex debate and I don't have time, not because I'm not interested in it), but I find it fascinating that these tests were/are deemed to adequately replicate human psychological conditions, and in the case of the Behavioural Despair Test, to prove the worth of drugs
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And just as an afterthought, here is the youtube video of the paragliding donkey that was in the papers a few weeks ago. The image of the gliding donkey inspired a work that will be in the show on Monday, so I've been following the story with some interest.
I was going to post the original footage, but I prefer this version, because it has bad metal and pointless extra editing.
I used this image as the basis for a proposal for a piece of public art.
It must be the best 'silly-season' picture of 2010. A paragliding donkey in Russia.
I'm fully writing my performance for Monday now, so not much time to blog, but here is an interesting link to a follow up story about the donkey that appeared in the photo.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2010/aug/06/the-sun-russian-donkey-stunt
I like the duplicate donkeys - the faked identities of animals with no interest in identity. W.G Sebald would have liked it, very Borgesian.
It must be the best 'silly-season' picture of 2010. A paragliding donkey in Russia.
I'm fully writing my performance for Monday now, so not much time to blog, but here is an interesting link to a follow up story about the donkey that appeared in the photo.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2010/aug/06/the-sun-russian-donkey-stunt
I like the duplicate donkeys - the faked identities of animals with no interest in identity. W.G Sebald would have liked it, very Borgesian.
BLOODY HELL.
I've only got two days of writing/practising before I present all my work at the Royal Standard on Monday.
I was back in London yesterday playing a gig in Kilburn. The name 'Kilburn' sounds sort of pathetic. I wrote a poem about Kilburn once. Here it is, for reference.
It's like cleaning my teeth with a razorblade;
but in a good way.
“Where are your shoes?”
Says a girl opposite me on the bus.
I nod towards the bus driver, who turns, smiles and winks.
“He has them” I say
“I swapped them for this toothbrush”
“Where are you going?” She asks.
“Kilburn” I reply.
In normal circumstances that would have killed the conversation,
but luckily my gums were bleeding;
she was intrigued.
We spoke for a while,
until we reached Kilburn.
I stood up to leave,
but passed out,
before I could get off the bus.
I have faint memories of her stealing my wallet,
but obviously,
as someone without any shoes,
she didn't find much.
She did however,
steal my toothbrush,
which, though the root of today's problems,
was the only one I had.
------
I'd never been there before, but it's quite an accurate portrait of the place.
Actually that isn't true. I quite liked it. We ate noodles at a place with formica tables, and then we drank in a beautiful pub (actually, we drank rum that we bought from the offy, but we did drink it in the pub). And we used the Overground to get there, and as I may have mentioned, the Overground is my favourite mode of London transport. It's for poor people who want to get round the city without going through zone 1 and it goes to semi-ridiculous places and it's a bit slow and annoying and always busy but without anyone ever understanding why. Fantastic.
Kilburn High Road reminded me a bit of Green Lanes between Manor House and Wood Green. Good kebab houses and a constant stream of human traffic - it's a mainline between two stations (Brondesbury and Kilburn) and it feels like it is both a destination and also a pit-stop between places.
And, obviously, it is home to the 'Kilburn Bandits'.
I've only got two days of writing/practising before I present all my work at the Royal Standard on Monday.
I was back in London yesterday playing a gig in Kilburn. The name 'Kilburn' sounds sort of pathetic. I wrote a poem about Kilburn once. Here it is, for reference.
Kilburn
I've got this new toothbrush.It's like cleaning my teeth with a razorblade;
but in a good way.
“Where are your shoes?”
Says a girl opposite me on the bus.
I nod towards the bus driver, who turns, smiles and winks.
“He has them” I say
“I swapped them for this toothbrush”
“Where are you going?” She asks.
“Kilburn” I reply.
In normal circumstances that would have killed the conversation,
but luckily my gums were bleeding;
she was intrigued.
We spoke for a while,
until we reached Kilburn.
I stood up to leave,
but passed out,
before I could get off the bus.
I have faint memories of her stealing my wallet,
but obviously,
as someone without any shoes,
she didn't find much.
She did however,
steal my toothbrush,
which, though the root of today's problems,
was the only one I had.
------
I'd never been there before, but it's quite an accurate portrait of the place.
Actually that isn't true. I quite liked it. We ate noodles at a place with formica tables, and then we drank in a beautiful pub (actually, we drank rum that we bought from the offy, but we did drink it in the pub). And we used the Overground to get there, and as I may have mentioned, the Overground is my favourite mode of London transport. It's for poor people who want to get round the city without going through zone 1 and it goes to semi-ridiculous places and it's a bit slow and annoying and always busy but without anyone ever understanding why. Fantastic.
Kilburn High Road reminded me a bit of Green Lanes between Manor House and Wood Green. Good kebab houses and a constant stream of human traffic - it's a mainline between two stations (Brondesbury and Kilburn) and it feels like it is both a destination and also a pit-stop between places.
And, obviously, it is home to the 'Kilburn Bandits'.
I went to the Walker gallery the other day. It wasn't great, though it did have more pre-renaissance painting than I was expecting, which was good to see. I liked the room of sculpture and plaster casts - how they were all shoved together in one space, flailing limbs and frozen screams.
They had a few of George Stubbs' paintings. I like it when people paint animals, especially horses. There is something absurd about horses.
This one particularly caught my eye. If you can see below, Stubbs was responsible for bringing a new genre, 'Animal Terror', to British painting.
The human-faced-Lion doesn't look very terrifying. It looks like a teddy bear.
"Stubbs borrowed one of the King's horses and produced the expression of terror in the animal by pushing a brush on the ground towards it".
Terrifying.
They had a few of George Stubbs' paintings. I like it when people paint animals, especially horses. There is something absurd about horses.
This one particularly caught my eye. If you can see below, Stubbs was responsible for bringing a new genre, 'Animal Terror', to British painting.
The human-faced-Lion doesn't look very terrifying. It looks like a teddy bear.
"Stubbs borrowed one of the King's horses and produced the expression of terror in the animal by pushing a brush on the ground towards it".
Terrifying.
I just had a trip to A Foundation. I saw three good exhibitions.
Artur Zmijewski has an exhibition called Following Bauhaus, in which the artist known for his creation of situations in which conflict arises and is then examined, set up an art school based on the Bauhaus school that operated in inter-war Germany.
I might come back and write some more about Artur. I was interested in setting up a free art school, and I like the idea that someone so hyper-critical could suddenly begin to make productive (as opposed to deconstructive) art.
Tatsumi Orimoto is exhibiting a wealth of photos relating to his singular practice in a show called, Live In Translation. I like that he uses his Mother in his work, it is sort of sweet/disturbing. There is something alluring about his bread man persona. I'm instantly reminded of Bedwyr Williams.
Jon Fawcett also has a show there (it's a big old gallery - comprising an old furnace, knife factory and coach shed).
Jon's work explores techno-mysticism, science-fiction made real and unreadable functions. I particularly liked Wheel, a video of an overtly technical machine being assembled in paradoxical locations by a group of men.
I would love to write about Jon's work more - I love all the references to conspiracy theories and writers like JG Ballard. The work has this hyper-finish that brings to mind Heideggerian techno-fear and prelapsarian longing.
But I don't have time. I've suddenly realised that I have loads of work to do and I've not even had lunch yet.
Artur Zmijewski has an exhibition called Following Bauhaus, in which the artist known for his creation of situations in which conflict arises and is then examined, set up an art school based on the Bauhaus school that operated in inter-war Germany.
I might come back and write some more about Artur. I was interested in setting up a free art school, and I like the idea that someone so hyper-critical could suddenly begin to make productive (as opposed to deconstructive) art.
Tatsumi Orimoto is exhibiting a wealth of photos relating to his singular practice in a show called, Live In Translation. I like that he uses his Mother in his work, it is sort of sweet/disturbing. There is something alluring about his bread man persona. I'm instantly reminded of Bedwyr Williams.
Jon Fawcett also has a show there (it's a big old gallery - comprising an old furnace, knife factory and coach shed).
Jon's work explores techno-mysticism, science-fiction made real and unreadable functions. I particularly liked Wheel, a video of an overtly technical machine being assembled in paradoxical locations by a group of men.
I would love to write about Jon's work more - I love all the references to conspiracy theories and writers like JG Ballard. The work has this hyper-finish that brings to mind Heideggerian techno-fear and prelapsarian longing.
But I don't have time. I've suddenly realised that I have loads of work to do and I've not even had lunch yet.
As I've finished making the videos for my presentation on the 9th, I thought I'd present a load of the source material here, in its original form, as well as related videos that I looked at but never used.
Obviously, this isn't representative of Liverpool. It's more representative of how Youtube operates as a filter. The stranger the title of the video, the higher up the listings it comes on a generic search term like 'Liverpool' or 'Toxteth'. The shorter the video, the easier it is to watch and comprehend. And the weirder the content, the more I'm drawn towards it.
Obviously, this isn't representative of Liverpool. It's more representative of how Youtube operates as a filter. The stranger the title of the video, the higher up the listings it comes on a generic search term like 'Liverpool' or 'Toxteth'. The shorter the video, the easier it is to watch and comprehend. And the weirder the content, the more I'm drawn towards it.
I've been alone all weekend, it's taken me about three hours to get the wi-fi working, I need a wee and I'm sitting on the side of the table which means that I can't stretch my legs. I'm having a bad day
I've been working until late in the studio since Friday. I finally met Harry Lawson - I think he is the only one of the Royal Standard crew that I hadn't already met.
He wears a fine moustache, and when I met him he was also sporting this rather brilliant space shuttle t-shirt.
What a fine shirt.
I was going to write about the exhibition at A Foundation, which looks really interesting. It was only when I got down there today that I realised (by virtue of the sign on the front door) that A Foundation is open Tuesday - Saturday.
Yeah, it's been a real shitty day. I'm drinking wine and soda in pint glasses.
So, instead of that, I'm just going to present this documentary on Paul McCarthy.
A fair amount of the work I've been doing over the past two weeks has used the Viennese Actionists' various events and performances as source material. I feel like Paul McCarthy was the American inheritor of their disturbing and anti-value approach to art making. He feels like a 90s artist to me - even though he has been making his performance to camera stuff since the 70s. There is something very post-modern and self-reflexive about his approach to his art work as 'psychological', or 'cathartic'. But the ironic finger flex quotation marks are only in the telling of it, when I watch his films I'm genuinely filled with horror and sickly fascination.
Anyway, here is the link. I can't embed it because my computer keeps asking me to install Quicktime so I can't check if it's working. Yeah, it's been that sort of shitty day.
http://www.ubu.com/film/mccarthy_destruction.html
I've been working until late in the studio since Friday. I finally met Harry Lawson - I think he is the only one of the Royal Standard crew that I hadn't already met.
He wears a fine moustache, and when I met him he was also sporting this rather brilliant space shuttle t-shirt.
What a fine shirt.
I was going to write about the exhibition at A Foundation, which looks really interesting. It was only when I got down there today that I realised (by virtue of the sign on the front door) that A Foundation is open Tuesday - Saturday.
Yeah, it's been a real shitty day. I'm drinking wine and soda in pint glasses.
So, instead of that, I'm just going to present this documentary on Paul McCarthy.
A fair amount of the work I've been doing over the past two weeks has used the Viennese Actionists' various events and performances as source material. I feel like Paul McCarthy was the American inheritor of their disturbing and anti-value approach to art making. He feels like a 90s artist to me - even though he has been making his performance to camera stuff since the 70s. There is something very post-modern and self-reflexive about his approach to his art work as 'psychological', or 'cathartic'. But the ironic finger flex quotation marks are only in the telling of it, when I watch his films I'm genuinely filled with horror and sickly fascination.
Anyway, here is the link. I can't embed it because my computer keeps asking me to install Quicktime so I can't check if it's working. Yeah, it's been that sort of shitty day.
http://www.ubu.com/film/mccarthy_destruction.html