ARTISTS TALKING

# 11 [20 June 2008]

Spent the day in the studio fiddling with slide viewers , tracing photographs and filming my celestial machine, actually a bit of wood with some holes drilled in it. I'm supposed to be going to the Whitstable Bienniale tomorrow but I am overcome with lethargy and don't fancy the 5am start. Apart from all the video work I really want to see That's Entertainment at Transition-By-the-Sea mostly because it has work by Cathie Pilkington in it. Many years ago we went to the same college in Northwich, I had a secret crush on her.

# 10 [15 June 2008]

Re: Conversational Library loan – Bedwyr Williams, Chydig Bach Yn Too Much

Dear Anna and Lawrence

Many thanks for the loan of the book. I spent the morning reading and smiling, not just at what Bedwyr had to say for himself but also at having received something free. I will gladly give it shelfspace until it is requested by another.

I have been worrying (slightly) about the show at Store for a while. I felt bad for not enjoying it more. I am enjoying the book – lots. In fact I have been savouring it; the colour of each page, the oversized numbers, even the smell. Too much? Anna is right, it is far more balanced than the show and trips lightly along until the essay at the end, which I’ll read later. The storytelling attracts me most, that and the dressing up. I’ve just reread with pleasure the bits about Death and his velour robe and the sculptural revenge of Tyranny of the Meek.

I hope this isn’t making you feel sad

Thanks again




Alex

# 9 [14 June 2008]

I received a book from The Conversational Library this morning. It came with a letter from the Librarians, Townley & Bradby http://www.axisweb.org/seCVPG.aspx?ARTISTID=12215

which explained the terms of the loan and said a little about their feelings about the book.  Its such a lovely letter I've copied it out.

Dear Alex

Here's that Bedwyr Williams book which we promissed to hand over. We've probably mentioned it to you four or five times over the last few months; in fact, back in March when all 3 of us visited Store Gallery, did I actually restrain your arm as you went to buy a copy? Maybe not. Memory is a shifty beast, as any copper knows.

It's interesting that the thought of parting with it make the book more valuable, and makes one read it in a nervous way, dipping into it greedily, trying to retain a few of Bedwyr's bon mots even as they melt away like boiled sweets.

I say 'parting with the book' because we're lending it to you under the terms of the newly inaugurated  Conversational Library. The terms are:

please keep it for a length of time in some way proportional to your pleasure in receiving or reading it.

keep it or dispose of it in any way you choose

we won't ask for it back, but if someone else who's also received an item from the library requests the book, we'll ask you to post it on to them (if you've still got it that is).

As the keeper of an item from the Conversational Library, we'll send you regular updates on other items in the collection. We want to share books & written stuff that we've found interesting. And we like the thought that this book might extend the conversation we were having about the apparent flatness and lifelessness of Bedwyr's stuff in the gallery. But the ethos of the Conversational Library is informed as much by self centred practicality as it is by generosity: we've got more books than we can fit on our shelves, so we're hoping to disseminate then across the shelves of our friends as a form of external storage.

We were doing a bit of aforementioned nervous browsing as we wrapped the book up for you. Anna said she liked the book a lot more than the Store solo show. She thought the image+text format presented his work more favourably. For one thing, image and text are given fairly equal weighting, whereas in the gallery, the objects or images always have more presence than the little text panels. For another, his wry humour, the ironic detachment which allows him to to introduce issues (death of the Welsh language, school bullying etc) and then float away from them, come over better in the intimacy of a book.

ButwaddaUrekon?

Hope to see you soon

 Anna and Lawrence

I spent the morning avidly reading the book (except for the essay at the end, I'm saving that) and I'll post my response tomorrow.

# 8 [13 June 2008]

Well I made it to the studio, and it was sunny. Unfortunately I had lent my camera to a degree student and although she had promised to drop it off at the studio she hadn't so I was left looking at twinkling but with no means of recording it. I did make some more tracings and had a nice chat with Bryony who is trying to get her work back on track and avoid becoming an "artist in the community" or at least the sort of "artist in the community" who is just required to entertain. I'm sure I wasn't much help but I did get a present of 3 slide viewers which I immediately converted into little stargazing sculptures. 

Later I went to a private view at Peppermint Shed  which is a small informal gallery just outside Ipswich. Richard Scott was showing his lovely understated paintings. I have been asked to show some video work there next spring and I was scouting out the space. Like many people I'm always having a good moan about the lack of spaces to show in East Anglia (too close to London blah blah blah) so I'm quite looking forward to showing my stuff in a sleepy village. I might find myself alone at the private view drinking all the wine.

# 7 [12 June 2008]

I am failing to get organised at the moment. I have made a celestial machine at the studio which, on a sunny day, creates twinkling stars and I want to make a film from it but I have completely failed to get to the studio on a sunny day. Pissing rain? yes, hail? I kid you not, sun? no. Oh well I'm going to try again tomorrow. I'm also planning to meet up with fellow artist Bryony Graham, who wants to talk to me about work. When people say this to me I get a confused look on my face which rapidly spreads to my brain. I know now I will have trouble thinking of anything to say. I also got the Flyer for Sizemology today, its great. Otherwise I have this feeling that things are slowing, a sort of creeping dread which is mostly in my head. 

 I have also been asked to write something about one of the other blogs on this site. A simple request that has caused a stupid degree of angst. Which should I choose? What are my criteria? anyway I think I've decided.

# 6 [8 June 2008]

I am home, up to date and ready to start thinking about exactly what I am going to do. As I am without funding I am going to have to be sensible about my approach, my dreams of hiring billboards across the country might have to be shelved. Even placing adverts in magazines such as AN becomes prohibitively expensive without support. I have decided to produce a postcard. There is no news on the Antarctic Survey site as to who the real artists will be this year so I am satisfying myself at the moment by downloading the "picture of the day" and tracing it. 

 In other news I am having some of my work screened in Liverpool towards the end of the month on the BBC big screen. Sizemology has been curated by Bren O'Callaghan and includes work by Pippilotti Rist and Hiraki Sawa. On the imaginary poster I am way down the billing, like some music hall performer showing off his two headed chickens.

# 5 [4 June 2008]

Barricaded the door to my room last night. I was unable to air the room because the window opened straight onto the road. All night shouting and stamping and cigarette smoke filtered down from above. I left as early as I could the following morning to drink coffee on Bethnal Green road and plan the day ahead. I have a blister on the sole of my foot from yesterday's adventures so I may have to take it easy. I decided on the usual suspects at Tate Modern before Danielle Arnaud and Rokeby.

I bought two books before my trip: Heart of Darkness and The Picture of Dorian Gray. As I am obsessed with avoiding the unknown and worried about my advancing age they seemed a good choice. I'm not being erudite rather they were part of the new Penguin Popular Classics series and at £2 looked just the part for the bachelor artist about town.

I so enjoyed the show at Rokeby that I wrote a sort of review and published it on  Interface without even thinking about it, probably a bad move but what the hell.

# 4 [3 June 2008]

I am finding it difficult to get back into writing regularly, struggling with the remembering and recording of things that might be interesting. At the moment I'm spending a lot of time staring at the stars and trying to recreate that feeling of losing myself in space. Day two of my London holiday is detailed below.

It rained all day.

At the Chisenhale Gallery I saw Anthea Hamilton's show Gymnasium which I really enjoyed. It was a light and airy confident arrangement. Later I saw a group show at The Whitecross Gallery, with some lovely and very reasonably priced drawings by Jock Mooney and some chucklesome photographs by Etienne Clément, and a very expensive but undeniably fabulous paper sculpture by Jörg Obergfell, While I was giggling gently I overheard the owners discussing who they were going to offer shows to. I remembered I had sent them some stuff recently and tried to listen in while fighting down a desire to run away - I didn't hear my name (I didn't really expect to) so I went for a pint.

# 3 [2 June 2008]

On the morning of the letter's arrival I was preparing to go on a short holiday. I had decided to spend three nights in a budget hotel in Bethnal Green. I had arrived without hitch despite the fact that a railway bridge had collapsed outside LIverpool street the previous night. The hotel seemed modern and clean and I sat in the lobby waiting to be shown to my room. A woman arrived took the key and beckoned me to follow. We left the hotel by the front door and walked down the road to a dilapidated terraced house. My guide opened the front door with a hefty kick lead me down a dingy corridor, pointed down some stairs into the basement and left (rather hurriedly I thought). There was a large bloodstain on the headboard.

# 2 [1 June 2008]

I have been away, staying in a basement in Bethnal Green. As a consequence the first few entries of this blog have been written offline. 

This morning I received a letter from Dr John Shears of the British Antarctic Survey's Artist's and Writer's Fellowship. It was a nice letter which said:

"Now that the judging panel has met and made it's final selection of the two successful candidates, I thought I would write and thank you for your application to "not go to the Antarctic".

 The panel were most intrigued by your very unusual proposal and I would like to thank you for sending it in."

I wasn't too surprised and only a little disappointed. Just to explain. A few months ago I was working on a residency for BCA Gallery, in some sort of homage to Raymond Roussel's "Impressions of Africa" I was making a film about a trip to the South pole largely made under a table in the studio. While working away I spotted that the Antarctic Survey people were requesting submissions for this years artistic antarctic romp and mischievously decided to put in an application not to go. My proposal was made mainly on the premise that there must be too many artists there already but also in reaction to my own cowardice when it comes to adventure. As part of the application I had hoped to advertise my non-appearance at the pole but also to produce some sort of epistolary diary by writing to an artist or writer who was brave enough to go.

I wasn't denigrating the work or ambition of those artists who have made the trip, one of my fondest art experiences was following Simon Faithfull's palm pilot drawings as they were posted online. Personally I felt that my going would not add anything to anyone's understanding of the Antarctic and I would probably get cold and suffer indigestion.

Once submitted I found myself getting more and more keen on the idea of success, of gaining approval for my project and was delighted when I heard it had got past the first cut - then things went quiet, ominously quiet and to be honest I forgot all about it.

So there I was, rejection in hand, wondering about what I should do next. Flippantly I thought, surely this means I have to go to Antarctica, to stowaway and then suddenly pop my head up and say: "well you told me I couldn't not go". This was probably the better idea, but it was my second one. My first thought was: "well, I can not go to the antarctic without help"

My plan is to:

1. Track, as best I can, the progress of the two successful artists and if possible set up some sort of communication with them.
2. Advertise my none appearance at the pole.
3. Write about what I do while not there.