After a conversation with Alice about Italian Still life painter Giorgio Morandi, I went searching for sheets of coloured card on which to experiment with photographing my series of sculptures from the ‘non-spaces’ project. It’s fascinating to see how much the glare from the coloured card effects the objects. The dark blue which is my favourite gives a kind of softness and warmth to the glazes. The yellow is too sharp and harsh while the grey and light blue make everything look washed out.
It’s fun to take the shapes, forms and colours out of the context of the original project. Instead I’m simply working with their material properties in a kind of collage. This method has a lot in common with the work I saw recently at the Moderna Museet in Stockholm about ‘Concretism’. Concrete art ”accustoms man to a direct relationship with things and not with the fiction of things” by rejecting the creation of the illusion of space and three dimension on canvas. Similarly, I don’t want to create an illusion her. I am not interested in conveying any deep meaningful message, I’m only concerned with the balance of form, colour and of positive and negative space.
In other news, I’ve started constructing larger sculptures using repeated press moulded sections in a white molochite stoneware. I’m really excited by the possibilities of working in this way. I like the control over the overall shape from the press mould. It restricts the decisions I can make so I only have to decide where to place them. This new clay is great to work with too – it dries quickly , supporting itself, and so far none of the joins have cracked. I want to see if it’s possible for the shapes to interlock and interact once they have been fired to form one larger piece.
On Thursday we culminated the Room/Space project with an exhibition of the work we have produced over the last month. My playful and brightly coloured body of work explores the concept of non-spaces and is an attempt to draw attention to the transitional invisible spaces we pass through every day without being aware of them. In order to highlight this my work was presented in alcoves in the arch spaces of the walls in the HDK’s stairwells, spaces we don’t often linger in but which become complex and beautiful architectural spaces once you start to look carefully.
A collection of 14 hand-built sculptures sit inside four shelf spaces of varying height along the staircases, the steps offering the opportunity to view them from many different angles. During feedback it was pointed out that these forms look like little figures interacting with each other, each with a different personality. The space between each of them gives them a sense of isolation though, which communicates the anonymity and isolation of individuals as they interact in non-spaces. Students pointed out that the forms were familiar and look significant in some way, although they weren’t sure where they recognised them from. Perhaps a well-chosen title could be a key to understanding the pieces. Maybe something like ‘Stannar vid‘, which is the automated voice announcement on Gothenburg trams to tell you your next stop. It suggests the way the staircase is a space for ‘getting to’ somewhere else, not a place just ‘to be’.
The colours turned out much patchier than I intended but this nod towards rust and weathering also suggests the wear and tear caused by many people passing through a space day in, day out. I need to work on my glaze application, dipping and spraying would have created a more even surface colour than painting on. I’ve learnt the important of thinking ahead to decoration in the making stage too – the manganese in this dark clay has eaten away at the glaze. The red glaze turned out much pinker than I intended – with more time I would have perfected the colour matches by making more glaze tests.
Klara mentioned how she began noticing scratches and paint splatters on the wall which echoed the forms of the sculptures and other students mentioned the key word ‘curiosity’. I believe this display of work has been successful in changing he way we interact with this non-space but equally, by using forms inspired by tram interiors people explained how not only was this space transformed but that when they travelled home on the trams they would be looking out for these forms and textures by searching the other way around. Two spaces transformed in one!
Thanks Will Treasure for some of the photos 🙂
(Started yesterday 11am)
Outside this morning, the generous icing of snow on the ground of my new accommodation at Olofshöjd is beginning to thaw. This is my fourth day in Gothenburg, Sweden since arriving by plane from Manchester via Brussels on January 14th, my third at Olofshöjd, the city’s central student accommodation run by SGD Bostäder. It’s a surreal experience to be an International Erasmus students from the flip side of the coin. Despite the outward similarities, the culture here already feels pretty alien to the UK. I’ve already made the faux pas of forgetting to take my shoes off before sitting down at our local student café and have had some very strange looks when paying for my groceries with cash (everyone here uses card). I’ve also been confused by the sophisticated queuing system here where you take a ticket before waiting for your number to be called, which they seem to have at most reception desks. I’m somewhat familiar with this system in the UK, at McDonald’s for example and when you got your feet measured at Clark’s for shiny new school shoes, but here it’s everywhere. The city’s network system of trams has also been a little difficult to navigate, but unlike the UK where it’s almost impossible to get away with cheating the public transport system, here many locals hop on and off the trams without paying, even though I hear you can get a hefty fine if you’re caught.
Tuesday was our first day at the Högskolan för design och konsthantverk (HDK) on Kristinelundsgatan where David Carlsson introduced us to our first project brief – quite an open project but one that can generally be summed up with the question ‘What is a vessel/container?’. We began with a seminar exploring the connotations and meanings of the two words (in Swedish: Kärlet and Behållare). Are the two synonymous? I don’t think so. A container might be thought of as less precious than a vessel, closed off, while a vessel is expected to have an opening. Container has undertones of functionality and purpose while a vessel might be more decorative, a flower vase. The word ‘vessel’ itself rolls more elegantly and poetically off the tongue than ‘container’.
To help me think about how I want to approach this project I chose three images I felt drawn to that explore the idea of the ‘vessel’:
This honeycomb object ‘Made by Bees’ is by a Slovakian designer called Thomas Gabzdil Libertiny. I found it in a book at the HDK library called Process by Jennifer Hudson. A collaboration between nature and technology – the artists placed a hollow mould of the archetypal vessel into a beehive and the bees subsequently filled in the negative space with wax resulting in a unique organic vessel. Unlike ceramic vessels this will decay and disintegrate, changing form over time. I find the ephemeral quality of this material fascinating. Unless fired, clay will sprout spores and mould too eventually (as I discovered when I left a load of damp porcelain in a box for months and it turned orange). I am also drawn to the playful nature of this object with the use of bees which reference the traditional use of vases to hold flowers. Interestingly vessel translates into Welsh as ‘llestr’ and a beehive is a ‘llestr gwenyn’ – a bee vessel.
I found this image of old watering cans on my phone from a trip to St Ffagans. I chose these more for their aesthetics than anything – the visibly soldered joints, the balance of the forms and crescents. They also made me think about the other components we add on to vessels to make them more functional to us such as spouts and handles, and how these change what the vessel communicates. These above are put together in a way which make them look like they are recycled from other pieces of waste metal.
The third image is of a ceramic vessel I found on Tuesday when we visited the ceramic collection at the archive of Gothenburg’s World Culture Museum. Its rounded base caught my attention because it relies on the form finding its own balance and centre of gravity. Depending on the weight of what goes inside it would sit differently. It reminds me of drinking horns and ice creams – awkward shapes you can’t put down unless you’ve finished eating or drinking from. I like the idea of objects that are difficult and so force us to think and question what we take for granted.
Proposed sculpture maquette 2
Proposed sculpture maquette 1
Photos of a series of greenware sculptures I’ve been working on. Thrown and assembled in White st Thomas stoneware.
Over the summer we’ve been asked to explore the theme of ‘collections’ documenting each of the following five:
1. A collection you have visited in person
My friend’s dad collects old milk bottles. There’s a room beside their kitchen where they’re all kept, lining the shelves from wall to ceiling with even more flowing from crates on and underneath the table. Most come from Wales but some from London where it was discovered the family’s ancestors used to be milkmen. Most date from around the 1930s but some date as far back as he 1880s, the older ones having wider necks. Here the collecting is an action, an ongoing process, collecting for fun.
2. An historical collection
I visited Middleport Pottery in Stoke-on-trent where they produce slipcast Burleigh ware. There they keep a collection of all the old plaster moulds the factory has used over the years and new designs are often inspired by this collection. It describes how tastes in ceramics have changed over the years from the flowery, intricate complex vessels of the past to the simple and sleek modern ones of today.
3. An artist who references collections in their creative practice
I travelled down to visit my flatmate in Eastbourne over the holiday and she took me to visit the Towner Art Gallery where I found this unusual collection of discarded dogballs collected by Jo Coles, a Brighton based artist. Here is the statement from her website (http://www.jocoles.com/) : I walk and I collect. I connect with a place through the objects people leave behind. I use these small details from human life to evidence living history. I save these objects for posterity before they disappear into the ground or are collected by street cleaners and whisked away into landfill. I’ve created order by imposing a system of collecting on these seemingly random pieces of rubbish.
Coles’s collections describe our ‘throw-away’ culture, elevating the everyday to intriguing works of art.
4) An unconventional collection
I came across this creepy collection of mannequin limbs and torsos in a field recently while working at a music festival. The theme of the festival was surrealism so I suppose that’s enough of an explanation for them to be there. It’s an interesting collection symbolically though, in an art gallery context it might be interpreted as a kind of anti- war protest with references to the horrors of concentration camps. Plastic bodies suggest that human lives are as disposable as mass produced goods.
5) A collection you have encountered in your own home
This collection of junk sits underneath our bungalow, most of it only kept because of its sentimental value. It includes the dolls house dad built for me, the threadbare mustard yellow chair that used to be my granddad’s, random books, CDs, children’s toys and golf clubs that are unlikely ever to be used. It’s a pile of things that don’t really belong anywhere else in the house but to an outsider might communicate lots about the type of people we are. It’s a personal collection that wouldn’t have any resonance with people outside my immediate family and yet you’re likely to find a similar collection of ‘homeless’ objects in any house.