Hans-Peter Feldman Exhibition

Yesterday I went to the Arnolfini Gallery in Bristol, I saw an exhibition of work by Hans-Peter Feldman.
On the wall in the gallery his work was described as a 'light-hearted celebration of the everyday. Much of his work concerns itself with collecting, a pastime that has been his passion since childhood in the 1940's; from tin toys to mechanical antiques, postcards to thimbles.' (Arnolfini Gallery 2007)

The first thing I encountered was a darkened room with a collection of everyday objects rotating on a series of carousels, there was a light shining on these objects, with ever-moving, flickering shadows projected from them onto the wall behind - like a phantasmagoria show (the top image is my photograph of this space in the exhibtion). In another space in the gallery (second image from top) there was a series of glass cabinets containing collections of objects, presented like museum specimens. The objects in the cabinet were all of a similar size, and all seemed to be functional objects, although some seemed old, perhaps out of date - not the kinds of things that would be in common use now. Being placed in a glass case removes them from their everyday context, they can no longer be used or touched, instead becoming curiosities, exotic objects. I felt curious about how these objects were linked, why they were grouped together, did they embody any personal significance, what was their history?

I have also uploaded two of my line drawings from the exhibition (see two bottom images).

A poem about Things

I found this Poem by Jorge Luis Borges in Things 15 Winter 2001 - 2002

Things
My care, my pocket change, this ring of keys,
the obedient lock, the belated notes,
the few days left to me will not find time
to read, the deck of cards, the table top,
a book encrushed in its pages the withered
violet, monument to an afternoon
undoubtedly forgotten, now
forgotten,
The mirror in the west where a red sunrise
blazes its illusion. How many things,
files, doorsills, atlases, nails,
serve us like slaves who never say a word,
blind and so mysterioouslt reserved.
They will endure beyond our vanishing;
and they will never know that we have gone.

'When you know where something came from you are more likely to treasure it'

I recently read this article: 'Sitting in judgment, why discerning consumers should pay more for less' in Selvedge Magazine issue 20, Nov/Dec 2007, by Beth Smith.
The article made me begin to question what it means to design and make more objects when we already have more than we need. 'Greed has replaced need; consumption of goods bears no resemblance to the quantity we actually use.' (Smith 2007: 59). ‘One jumper will make you much happier if you’re cold, three jumpers (even in different colours) will not make you three times happier.’ (Smith 2007: 59). It made me begin to question a designers responsibility to design things that won't go out of fashion, that will be of good quality, that use ethically sourced materials, and perhaps have the potential to be adapted or modified by the user to respond to their changing needs or fashions. I linked this to the garments designed by Issey Miyake, able to be cut out and designed by each individual wearer (see image above).

The article then goes on to discuss buying '...locally from small producers, or the larger companies that support them. It's the antidote to the feelings of emptiness available on every anonymous high street...it makes you a participant as well as a consumer, where you have a sense of who's in your universe and how it fits together. When you know where something came from you are more likely to treasure it.' (Smith 2007: 59)
I have added links to the websites of companies mentioned in the article for their ethical design policies:
squint
Toast
Riedzioni
Luma
Gayle Warwick
Oecotextiles
Cynthia Ashby

Objects, Things and The Lyrical Museum

In Things and Words: Toward a Lyrical Museum, Mickail Epshtein writes about the idea of a Lyrical Museum. I have picked out some quotes from this text, alongside some of my notes and thoughts about this text.

Ephstein writes that things are usually in museums because they're '...very rare or ancient, unique and valuable in themselves.' or they '...are important as samples typical for an entire family or class of similar things...' or '...interesting because of their association with a prominent figure...a museum memorial.' (Epshtein 1993: 152). He writes that in contrast a Lyrical Museum would display: '...the things of everyday life, in general use, without a particular monetary, historical or artistic value; they are encountered everywhere and do not usually interest or surprise us. what is essential to such things is not their typicality but the individual existance marked by the habits and ideals of their owners.' (Epshtein 1993: 153)

'Usually a lyrical work is written not about Grandiose events... but about a 'magic moment', a passing smaile, a gentle breeze, or a speckle of dust

'...every thing, no matter how insignificant, can possess a private or lyrical value.' (Epshtein 1993: 153). The 'things' value is subjective, imbued by its owner - as a memento it perhaps carries or embodies a memory of a person, place or event. The object is the remaining, solid trace from the past, carrying a narrative either suggested by the physicality of its apperance (signs of ageing etc) or the verbal narrative told by its owner, finder or inheritor.

In contrast this makes me consider the objects in charity shops or rubbish dumps. The objects we no longer want, the things that aren't special enough to keep - what happens to them? In charity shops a higher value is given to things that look relatively new, with as little traces of their previous life as possible. I link this to the rag bags I recently documented from a charity shop - the things no one wanted - thinking abut their lost and hidden stories of their past - who wore them? why were they discarded? What makes the difference as to whether an object is valued and kept or thrown away without care? Is it arbitary and subjective (about personal experience and memory), rather than about any inherant physicality or material value of an object? 'A thing out of signification creates a break in the network of connections with others and with oneself' Epshtein 1993: 154). In terms of my own design process it makes me question, would it be possible to design and make objects that would have a personal value or link to the individual who bought them?

Notes on collections: display and memory

I have been thinking about the way seemingly ordinary objects, can have personal value imbued into them by the way they are collected, thought about or displayed, and the way we read that display or collection. This happens in a more formal way in public spaces such as museums, galleries or shops, but it can also happen in domestic spaces. On shelves, or mantle pieces, cabinets or tables - objects, souvenirs, mementos telling a story about an individuals life. Yet while some things are proudly displayed, others are hidden away and never seen, stored in cupboards and boxes, in the attic or under the bed - collections locked away, preserving the physicality of our memories from the past.

I linked these thoughts to these quotes:
'The cupboard seems to have had a near mythical importance to Russian communal apartment-dwellers. It was the most prized piece of furniture, serving at once the contradictory desires for privacy and display that the apartment itself, with its flimsy partitions and drab decor, could never satisfy. The carefully arranged treasures in Lyuba's cupboard included: a plastic apple - a souvenir of her native village in Belarus - a Chinese thermus flask decorated with a floral design, a porcelain dog, some artificial flowers, a samovar and a set of folk style porcelain cups.' (Travis, T. 2000. 'Things with Souls The Object in Late Soviet Culture'. In: Things 12 Summer 2000. page 38)

'...collecting can be seen as an ongoing attempt to cope with the fact that time goes by.' (Winzen, M. 1998. Deep Storage. Prestel - Verlag. Page 22)

' As Stefan Hoderlein says, 'time is constantly being lost, but we can keep, store or retrospectively appropriate or invent photographs, traces, documents, and memories'.' (Winzen, M. 1998. Deep Storage. Prestel - Verlag. Page 22)

The lifespan of objects and things

I have recently read this text: Epshtein, M., 1993. Things and Words: Towards a Lyrical Museum, in: Tekstura: Russian essays on visual culture, University of Chicago Press.
This article describes the idea of a Lyrical Museum which, instead of displaying rare or valuable objects, would consist of ‘the things of everyday life’ (page 153). Things valuable because of their personal significance.
The article also discusses the life or journey of an object from the warehouse via shops and the home to the rubbish dump.
The ‘Twentieth Century created two great symbols of the alienation of things from man: the warehouse and the dump. The first absorbs the things that have not reached him, that flaunt haughtily their perfect surfaces and bright labels. The second the things abandoned, without attention and care, dusty, filthy, rotting and rusty before their time’ (page 158)
This led me to begin thinking about a designers responsibility to consider the lifespan of their product. How will an individual relate to the object they buy? Will it be kept or thrown away?

Notes on 'Objects' and 'Things'

I've been reading an article in Things magazine (issue 12 Summer 2000), by Tim Travis, called Things with Souls The Object in Late Soviet Culture. I have picked out some quotes from the text and some of my thoughts and notes in response to what I've read:

The article discusses some differences in the English Language and Russian language. In Russian 'vesch' is translated as 'thing', however it has a more specific meaning that is lost in the translation 'vesch is one endowed with spirit or essence - a thing with a soul.' (Travis 2000: 41). This is in contrast to 'predmet' (object) 'which refers to an inanimate, functional entity' (Travis 2000: 41). This idea of 'vesch' or 'thing' brought to mind the idea of mementos and personal - perhaps uncouncious -collections of things, that when seen on their own, without the person they belong to, become a kind of absent portrait, because they contain an essence or trace of the person who used them.

Tim Travis also discusses the idea that '...the things that are drawn to and circulate around each person reveal a lifetime's changing tastes, habits and memories - the geological layers of a personality...' (Travis 2000: 41) if we looked at this type of collection of objects we'd begin to read the narrative of an individual's life. The things that would tell this story most clearly would be 'The trivial everyday things that entwine with and articulate a persons character...' (Travis 2000: 41).

'The Thing consists entirely of touches that invisibly sculpt its essence... each one is meant to be touched, lifted, moved; some even have knobs and handles that seem to be extended towards the human hands... their form may be machine made, but their essence is shaped by the hands whose warmth they exude.' (Travis 2000: 45). This made me think of old and worn shoes and clothes with frayed patches of fabric or scuffed heels. They tell a story of how they've been used and worn - a story of all the places they may have been and of the person who wore them. The imprint or trace on these objects, gives them a sense of 'vesch'. I have also begun to consider the ergonomics of design, how we relate to the physicality of the objects we use, how the fabric around a button hole will become more worn because of repeated use, yet the area underneath a pocket flap may remain bright and new looking for much longer. Will these considerations have an impact on the way I begin to think about designing an object?

Collections from a charity shop rag bag

Having drawn collections of everyday objects in Helston Folk Museum I wanted to explore different types of collections. I went to a charity shop and was given three rag bags of things they couldn't sell in the shop. I documented what I found in these bags. I see the clothes shoes and bags found in the three rag bags as a kind of collection. They all individually made their way to the charity shop from different peoples collections of things. Somehow they became things that no one wanted anymore, things with no value, neither in a practical sense or as mementos. When they arrived at the charity shop they weren't wanted there either - a tale of rejection and abandonment? - A group of objects that that became a collection by accident; by the accident or chance of being discarded and then 'collected' and found by me? Do they share any other similarities or characteristics other than this chance factor of having been thrown away and then thrown together? Some are old and worn out telling stories of the people who used them in the past, whilst others are new and seem unworn bearing no trace of any previous life. Some are for men, some for women. Some seem as though they were made quite recently, whilst others were perhaps made a long time ago. All of them are textiles in some way.
I began to draw and photograph some of these items, seeing them as a kind of portrait, I also began to write fragments of narratives in my sketchbook, imagining their past.

Photos and notes from Barcelona

I recently spent a few days in Barcelona, I photographed a wall in a tiny back street, the road was narrow, surrounded by high walls, flaking and old. In some areas there were scratches and writing on the walls - places where people had left their traces on the street. The peeling layers of paint, and cracked plaster revealing bricks beneath, seem like layers of time and memory. The way the patterns on the wall have faded, peeled and are dissapearing over time seems like the way memory works. Looking closely at the patterns, the colours seem subdued and muted - were they once bright, crisp and colourful before they were covered over the years by layers of grime and pollution? These layers are like stains, worn and faded patches on fabric or clothes, becoming thin and worn over time.
There are so many layers in these images. The exposed concrete on the top photo seems to float over the pattern, slowly engulfing it over time. Over the top of this someone has scratched words onto the wall - yet another trace; these separate layers all merge together to form the story of this wall. Perhaps a story of splendour and ornate pattern, then abandonment, neglect , forgetting and being reclaimed in new ways..

Notes about Van Gogh's painting of a pair of boots

This painting seems to speak about the way objects can become more than just an object, to embody an essence or trace. This painting seems more like a portrait, speaking of the person who wore the boots. The boots carry a narrative, yet the narrative is incomplete, we are left wondering who wore these boots, where they came from, what did they do, where did the boots walk? At first I thought perhaps they're like shadows, a memory of their wearer. But the way they're painted doesn't seem like a shadow, the paint has a physicality like wrinkled skin, this make them seem alive, telling a story of years of wear and tear. Yet they also tell a story of care and repair, the boots seem to glean and shine, as though they've been polished many times. It's interesting to look at the way they sit, in one way they seem to sit poised and expectant perhaps waiting for the return of their owner, yet also they seem to lean to one side as though tired and heavy. I am interested in the way an object, a pair of old boots, can embody very human characteristics, to speak about time, memory and narrative.

Thoughts about the scale of my drawings

Scale seems important to consider within my work. I have started a series of images that are of a smaller size than I would usually work on. I began making the drawings smaller (top) to find a way of creating a greater sense of intimacy with these images; linking to my earlier ideas that drawing the everyday is a way of getting a greater sense of intimacy with the things and spaces around us. I have linked this to textile based illustrations (right) created by Laura Mccafferty because she also draws the ordinary and everyday to create small scale images. In the fashion illustration book Imagemakers Martin Dawber notes that '... Laura elaborates on everyday events such as going to the hairdresser or doing the grocery shopping... Routine is vividly captured in floral patterns using applique, hand stitching and paint. She usually works small, which gives the viewer the feeling that they are peeking in on a captured moment' (Dawber, 2004, Imagemakers, p46).
I have been thinking about the way I draw these images, there's a process of editing, in which I focus on some areas with concentrated detail, and then simplify or leave other areas blank. I link this to memory and story telling and the way we remember some things in great detail, yet forget others or even imagine the missing parts. I've begun thinking about how people might relate to these images, seeing the simplified areas as a space where the viewer can add their own narrative by imagining these missing areas.

inspirations

I want to start developing my drawings into prints and designs for textiles, so I have started to look at Textile designers who inspire me. These are some of the designers I have been looking at: Luciene Day, Nadia Sparham, Pat Albeck, Orla Kiely, Tricia Guild and Neisha Crosland. These are some of the website I have looked at (I can't get my computer to add links at the moment so I've just typed their adresses rather than adding a link). patternprint.bogspot.com, decor8.blogspot.com, neishacrosland.com, orlakeily.com.

trace, time and the everyday

In my sketchbook I have begun to explore the idea of trace and time. Over a period of four days I have drawn the same corner in a room, documenting the way the space has slightly changed each day, tracing a human presence and absence. I have been thinking about mark making when I'm drawing, I have been using a continuous line - thinking about the way this can suggest a trace or residue of a moment in time.
'...to see the familiar with quite new eyes, to think about our marks and imprints, which like our memories, can remain indelible or fade from sight.'
quote from: Whiting, D., Exhibition Reviews, Caroline Broadhead. In: Crafts, Sept/Oct 2001. p59.

Doing a series of drawings of an 'everyday' space has made me question - what is the 'everyday'? It seems to be subjective - is an image only read as being 'everyday' depending on your cultural or social context or background?

objects

I have been going back over my sketchbook and thinking about the signifance of the drawings I did in Helston Folk Museum, thinking about the way we percieve objects in collections. 'In galleries (or museums), objects are frozen in time and are abstracted from their stories...'. It seems that how we read them depends on what we're told (e.g. labels) and where we see or find them, for example in a museum or in a charity shop, in a cupboard or on a mantle piece. 'for all their materiality, objects are slippery; their meanings change according to the circumstances we encounter them in...'
quotes from: Sharrad, P., 2004. Following the Map: A Postcolonial Unpacking of a Kashmir Shawl. In: Textile vol.2, p 64-79.

Drawings and Notes from Helston Folk Museum

On Friday 19th Oct I spent the morning drawing at Helston Folk Museum. I wanted to explore the way objects can carry a sense of narrative, time or trace. Whilst in the museum I became interested in the fragments of information the veiwer is told about an object. I liked not knowing much about an object - just a name and a date - it allows you to imagine, like a child's story book with the words missing and only the pictures remaining.

Whilst I was drawing a pair of battered miners boots I began thinking about the significance of mark-making. I began drawing them with a continuous line, thinking about the line representing a trace from the past to now. I also left parts of the drawing missing, and focused on certain details - I was thinking about the way memory works, we clearly remember some details from the past but forget others.

When I was drawing a group of dresses in the museum an elderly man began talking to me. Afterwards I noted down from memory fragments of our conversation. It seemed to add to a sense of narrative linked to my time spent there.

drawings and notes from my sketchbooks

The quote from Merleau Ponty made me think about making links to drawings and notes in my sketchbooks. In my sketchbooks I am interested in drawing everyday objects, people and places, noticing the extraordinary in the ordinary. I feel these notes and images begin to make links to ideas of phenomenology, perception, time, ways of being in the world, the idea of objects being more than just an object...

Initial notes about quote

These notes have been scanned from my notebook, and were written on Wed 10th Oct having just been set our brief to begin a blog and choose a quote to explore further. They are my first initial thoughts and ideas in response to reading the quote by Merleau Ponty.

Initial thoughts about quotes

This is the quote I have decided to make an initial response to:

'I see the next-door house from a certain angle, but it would be seen diferently from the right bank of the Seine, or from the inside, or again from an aeroplane: the house is none of these appearances...But what do these words mean? Is not to see always to see from somewhere? To say that the house itself is seen from nowhere is surely to say that it is invisible?...The house itself is not the house from nowhere, but the house seen from everywhere. The completed object is translucent, being shot through from all by an infinite number of present scrutinies which intersect in its depths leaving nothing hidden.' (Maurice Merleau-Ponty, The Phenomenology of Perception, 1962)